Finally Some Common Sense
In an Ha'aretz report, IDF soldiers are now learning polite Arabic exchanges with which to communicate with Palestinians crossing through their checkpoints. "Please," "Thank you" and "Good Morning" should have been phrases introduced eons ago, but thankfully are now entering the soldiers' day-to-day lexicon as they encounter the hopefully harmless masses of workers going through the daily perceived hassles of checkpoints and soldiers. Let's all keep in mind that real peace isn't made between leaders and treaties. It has to happen on the ground when people see each other as real people. Kol HaKavod.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Hodesh ELUL Tov - and a new look...
As Elul has begun, I thought i would return to the blogosphere and while I was at it, give a new fresh look for the upcoming 5771.
Mara (+) and I are currently in Chicago visiting family and friends which is always a good time to take a break eat tons of my former favorites, get in touch with our inner-consumer and do some reflecting.
1. Despite missing family and friends, I'm glad I live in Israel. This week most of our conversations surrounded pregnancy and everything that has to do with that. Few conversations were about anything having to do with the situation of world Jewry or Israel. What can ya do? Most people were interested in our own lives, basically the big three: Baby, renovation, job. That's life.
It is hard being away and trying to keep up on the news. It's like this distant hobby that one has. An obsessive interest in something that has no affect on our direct lives, but for some reason some of us care about it nonetheless.
2. It's sometimes hard to be an optimist when I read headlines such as this: Hamas, 10 other groups reject all forms of compromise with Israel.
Well, I guess we'll have to wait it out.
3. Look out for an upcoming missive on the state of tfilah in the North American Reform Youth movements.
As Elul has begun, I thought i would return to the blogosphere and while I was at it, give a new fresh look for the upcoming 5771.
Mara (+) and I are currently in Chicago visiting family and friends which is always a good time to take a break eat tons of my former favorites, get in touch with our inner-consumer and do some reflecting.
1. Despite missing family and friends, I'm glad I live in Israel. This week most of our conversations surrounded pregnancy and everything that has to do with that. Few conversations were about anything having to do with the situation of world Jewry or Israel. What can ya do? Most people were interested in our own lives, basically the big three: Baby, renovation, job. That's life.
It is hard being away and trying to keep up on the news. It's like this distant hobby that one has. An obsessive interest in something that has no affect on our direct lives, but for some reason some of us care about it nonetheless.
2. It's sometimes hard to be an optimist when I read headlines such as this: Hamas, 10 other groups reject all forms of compromise with Israel.
Well, I guess we'll have to wait it out.
3. Look out for an upcoming missive on the state of tfilah in the North American Reform Youth movements.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Is Co-existence Possible?
You Know You're in the Middle East When...
Mara and I are house/babysitting for friends, and when the Arab electrician came to repair the boiler (hot water heater) I was privy to a unique phenomenon. Ziyad went back out to the car to fetch a part, and his trusty sidekick in broken Hebrew asked if by chance we had a spare prayer-rug as now was tfilah time. "Sure," I offered throwing together a door mat and some newspaper which seemed to make the grade. He then proceed to kneel down and prostrate on the living room floor - despite all the raucous of homework, YouTube, telephones, and of course electric work on the boiler.
This of course has been going on for close to 1400 years, but the question that proceeded to intrigue me is in regard to a hypothetical reciprocal occurrence. Would a religious Jew be able to go in to an Arab/Muslims home [in Jerusalem] and explain that he needed to daven minha? And they would be ok with it? Of course religious Jews have a stigma among Jerusalem Arabs - especially in light of the on going debacle in Sheikh Jarrah, but religious Muslims have no less of a stigma among Western Jerusalem's Jews? What about fear of terrorism? Of course not all Muslims or Arabs are terrorists - not even close. But have all terrorists been Muslim or Arab. Basically, yes. Have there been incidents when service providers, who even maintain a long standing relationship with their clients, turned and committed acts of violence? Unfortunately, there have.
The moral of the story is that maybe, just maybe, last Thursday afternoon we caught a glimpse of co-existence. He finished his prayer, sat entranced momentarily, ate a few cookies that we offered him and packed up. The boiler switch was fixed and the kids who bore witness to the whole thing acquiesced, muttering a "yeah, ok, that was kind of weird, but also kind of cool," and went back to the computer.
You Know You're in the Middle East When...
Mara and I are house/babysitting for friends, and when the Arab electrician came to repair the boiler (hot water heater) I was privy to a unique phenomenon. Ziyad went back out to the car to fetch a part, and his trusty sidekick in broken Hebrew asked if by chance we had a spare prayer-rug as now was tfilah time. "Sure," I offered throwing together a door mat and some newspaper which seemed to make the grade. He then proceed to kneel down and prostrate on the living room floor - despite all the raucous of homework, YouTube, telephones, and of course electric work on the boiler.
This of course has been going on for close to 1400 years, but the question that proceeded to intrigue me is in regard to a hypothetical reciprocal occurrence. Would a religious Jew be able to go in to an Arab/Muslims home [in Jerusalem] and explain that he needed to daven minha? And they would be ok with it? Of course religious Jews have a stigma among Jerusalem Arabs - especially in light of the on going debacle in Sheikh Jarrah, but religious Muslims have no less of a stigma among Western Jerusalem's Jews? What about fear of terrorism? Of course not all Muslims or Arabs are terrorists - not even close. But have all terrorists been Muslim or Arab. Basically, yes. Have there been incidents when service providers, who even maintain a long standing relationship with their clients, turned and committed acts of violence? Unfortunately, there have.
The moral of the story is that maybe, just maybe, last Thursday afternoon we caught a glimpse of co-existence. He finished his prayer, sat entranced momentarily, ate a few cookies that we offered him and packed up. The boiler switch was fixed and the kids who bore witness to the whole thing acquiesced, muttering a "yeah, ok, that was kind of weird, but also kind of cool," and went back to the computer.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
PURIM 5770 - Reclaiming Public Spaces
Purim in a Pub was a pretty big success..
So, Gila (a fellow Israeli HUC student) and I decided that it would be cool to organize a Megilah Reading in a pub instead of a local synagogue. Some liked it, some were against, but we are all about trying to bring the Torah to the people. And, strangely enough, the people are not necessarily in synagogue.
Yankee's bar in downtown Jerusalem was packed and the everyone was there from Ahmedinajad to "Heather from Birthright Bus 7."
Yankee's bar in downtown Jerusalem was packed and the everyone was there from Ahmedinajad to "Heather from Birthright Bus 7."
We read the megillah from Perek Aleph through Yud, played some music and drank a lot.
Everyone left (hopefully) wanting more.
So, the next step will be to set up a monthyl Beit Midrash. Maybe the same pub, maybe not, we'll see. Be on the lookout for "שיעור ושתיה" (A lesson and a drink) coming soon - Rosh Hodesh Iyar to a pub near you!
When it Rains it Pours...
Last weekend I, along with my classmates spent the weekend at Kibbutz Yahel and Lotan in the Arava. As hail and storms flooded the country north of Beer Sheva, we made our way down to clear skies and lucid air.As we made our way out into the pomello fields all of a sudden a few drops, and then more, and we headed for the van to get out of the pouring rain.
The Arava gets only about 2-3 days of rain a year, and I was lucky enough to be there for it!
As it turns out though, the kibbutz members weren't as thrilled as we were. "It's actually kind of annoying," one said. "The rain is not letting us harvest the fruit, and tourists came hear to have an outdoor picnic." Boohoo.
In all of our discussions with Kibbutz members - from Yahel and Lotan - the most interesting pearl of wisdom that I heard came from Yair, a 23 year old student (who was an EIE student in Chicago). While there is a known phenomenon of formerly religious Jews calling themselves "Datlash" (דתל"ש) or "Dati L'She'avar (or formerly religious); we were now informed of the latest trendy epithet: "Raflash - רפל"ש " for Reformi L'she'avar - formerly Reform. Wow. It has always been a big question as to how the second generation of liberal Jewish olim would turn out - now we have concrete testimony.
I'm not sure whether this actually leaves a hopeful or pessimistic impression of the Israeli Reform movement. On the one hand it might be a good sign to say that something is established enough for people to begin leaving it. On the other we know that it's not, and that the next generation of secular Israelis will likely not affiliate with the movement.
I hate to end on a pessimistic note, but the next entry will be more uplifting.
Here's a cool picture of the date palms of Kibbutz Yahel. (courtesy of Tamir Nir)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
More on Avi...
While family and friends had assembled in Los Angeles to eulogize and bid farewell to Avi Schaefer over 150 of us gathered in Jerusalem's center to speak, remember and watch the online-streamed funeral. Most important was for those who knew and loved him just to come together. As I stood and watched young and old friends, family members, former hanichim, madrichim, Tzevet members and just general people who felt connected to Avi, I began to realize the impact of Avi's life and the reeling affect his loss will have.
I thought about the pivotal period of life that I met and got to know the Schaefer twins. It was the Spring of 2004 as two identical wiry boys with braces on their teeth and a quiet disposition graced us with their presence. "We're not really interested in the ancient history," Yoav explained to me in one of our earlier meetings. "More the modern stuff, y'know, history of the wars from '48 on..."
"Ok," I replied, "we'll see," I thought.
A year later we sat around bowls of houmous, and discussed why the Rabbis of the Talmud were less inclined to mention the travails of Bar Kochva's failed attempt at redeeming the Jewish people from Roman rule.
I loved hearing about Avi and Yoav's adventures and explorations throughout Europe and Morocco, watching them appear on Yair Lapid, and getting them to do numerous speaking gigs for the army when I was in Dover Tzahal. I always felt comfortable and proud sending a group to hear Avi's story and his perspective, and knew that he would always be able to articulate his feelings in a way that people would respond to positively.
On Monday night we stood and listened, and cried and hugged each other.
Avi was the 'New Jew' - an image out of an Alterman poem - the two heros returning home to the kibbutz after closing 21 or 28 days. I remember seeing them at synagogue during a visit with their father. Anxious to show me their scrapes and scars from crawling drills during tironut, they reluctantly admitted to me that, "hey y'know, we're a little bit older so we just try to help the kids out..." (being of course 19 amidst a conglomeration of 18-year-olds)
Watching Avi grow from a timid teenager to a strong confident 21 year old I realized that he was living the dream.
It is true that "Everyone dies, but not everyone truly lives."
Avi truly lived.
While family and friends had assembled in Los Angeles to eulogize and bid farewell to Avi Schaefer over 150 of us gathered in Jerusalem's center to speak, remember and watch the online-streamed funeral. Most important was for those who knew and loved him just to come together. As I stood and watched young and old friends, family members, former hanichim, madrichim, Tzevet members and just general people who felt connected to Avi, I began to realize the impact of Avi's life and the reeling affect his loss will have.
I thought about the pivotal period of life that I met and got to know the Schaefer twins. It was the Spring of 2004 as two identical wiry boys with braces on their teeth and a quiet disposition graced us with their presence. "We're not really interested in the ancient history," Yoav explained to me in one of our earlier meetings. "More the modern stuff, y'know, history of the wars from '48 on..."
"Ok," I replied, "we'll see," I thought.
A year later we sat around bowls of houmous, and discussed why the Rabbis of the Talmud were less inclined to mention the travails of Bar Kochva's failed attempt at redeeming the Jewish people from Roman rule.
I loved hearing about Avi and Yoav's adventures and explorations throughout Europe and Morocco, watching them appear on Yair Lapid, and getting them to do numerous speaking gigs for the army when I was in Dover Tzahal. I always felt comfortable and proud sending a group to hear Avi's story and his perspective, and knew that he would always be able to articulate his feelings in a way that people would respond to positively.
On Monday night we stood and listened, and cried and hugged each other.
Avi was the 'New Jew' - an image out of an Alterman poem - the two heros returning home to the kibbutz after closing 21 or 28 days. I remember seeing them at synagogue during a visit with their father. Anxious to show me their scrapes and scars from crawling drills during tironut, they reluctantly admitted to me that, "hey y'know, we're a little bit older so we just try to help the kids out..." (being of course 19 amidst a conglomeration of 18-year-olds)
Watching Avi grow from a timid teenager to a strong confident 21 year old I realized that he was living the dream.
It is true that "Everyone dies, but not everyone truly lives."
Avi truly lived.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Mourning the Loss of Avi Schaefer
Early Friday morning on a street in Providence, Rhode Island, the world lost Avi Schaefer. Hit and killed by a drunk driver Avi remains a treasured student, friend, brother, soldier and hero. A student at Brown University, Avi had just completed 3 voluntary years of army service in the IDF.
I first met Avi when he was a young 15 year-old student at the NFTY-EIE High School in Israel program during my first semester as a teacher. While his twin Yoav was in my class, Avi was a known presence, and often struck up conversations over lunch and on tiyulim. As he and Yoav made their way back to Israel after high school, whether for just a visit and finally as olim, I always enjoyed hearing them tell their tales of adventure and travel and struggles with the challenge of being Zionists and strong Jewish advocates amidst an adversarial Californian environment.
Upon induction to the IDF (a month after my own), Avi and Yoav took to combat units feeling a strong sense of national responsibility and שליחות. Whether it was appearances on Yair Lapid's show or Nefesh B'Nefesh, Avi (and Yoav) never shied away from the opportunity to share their beliefs and to explain why they believed what they were doing was right.
Every time I called their mobile phone, not knowing who would answer, Avi without fail, always first inquired about me and my well being. "How's your service going?" he would ask with genuine curiosity as to my well being. "It must be tough to be so much older than everyone else," he once inquired. When I told him that my cushy army desk job pailed in comparison to he and Yoav's months of guard duty in Hevron and the Lebanese border, he would reply with a smile and say "hey, everyone's got to do what they're good at," and remind me that I had inspired them to be where they are now.
While not all of his army service was easy the decision to leave Israel and study at Brown University was also quite difficult. It is clear to me that in his first semester at Brown, Avi felt a strong sense of shlichut and was determined to be an Israel advocate, and to show the world through his campus that Israeli soldiers are not monsters and can even be peace-loving, calm and articulate people.
I recomend reading Avi's opinion piece "To those interested in creating peace in the Middle East" published in the Brown Daily Herald to begin to get a sense of who Avi was.
In a split second a selfish and despicable human being made a decision and took the life of our student, friend, brother, soldier, hero and role model. In Avi's short life, he was able to impact so many. Our thoughts are with his parents and brothers.
יהי זכרו ברוך
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
6 Years and Counting...
On Dec 9th 2009 I celebrated my 6th "aliyaversary". I suppose it's not monumental or even a round number, but seeing as I was in New York for my 5th, the 6th is much more meaningful. It is still an anomaly of sorts to celebrate the date of immigration to another country and goes to show the loaded ideology attached to this story.
Of course the Israel today, and my experience/life here, is not the same Israel that I romantically fell in love with and idealized as a high school and university student over a decade ago. It is however my home and I have committed myself to her.
The Difference Between Love and Like...
No, this is not the opener of an off-color joke, but a real issue that I (along with many others) struggle with on an almost daily basis. I am compelled to defend Israel against the likes of terrorists, Israel-bashers, Goldstones, Jay Michaelsons, and the like - yet often something annoying transpires leaving a friend or loved one to proclaim "Uch, I hate Israel!" While I realize that sayings such as these are rarely literal, I can't imagine getting stuck in traffic in Chicago and screaming out "I hate America!"
Now, we have real problems here. The education system is screwed up, real-estate prices are getting out of control, we have a growing environmental crisis, the social-Jewish spectrum is more divisive than inclusive, and oh yeah, that pesky conflict with the Palestinians.
On the rare occasion I am even embarrassed to associate myself with the Jewish establishment. [Like, for instance, with a recent ruling in favor of extreme right-wing Jews in the case of a disputed residence in the Arab neighborhood of Sheikh Jarah in East Jerusalem.]
However...
...there are lots of things that I see on a daily basis for which I am proud, and which help to reaffirm my decision to live here. For so many the choice to live here is conditional. No more are the days and sentiments of Yosef Trumpeldor ("Wherever a nail is needed - I will be that nail; Wherever a hammer - I will be a hammer") where no matter what happens here there truly is no other place.
On Dec 9th 2009 I celebrated my 6th "aliyaversary". I suppose it's not monumental or even a round number, but seeing as I was in New York for my 5th, the 6th is much more meaningful. It is still an anomaly of sorts to celebrate the date of immigration to another country and goes to show the loaded ideology attached to this story.
Of course the Israel today, and my experience/life here, is not the same Israel that I romantically fell in love with and idealized as a high school and university student over a decade ago. It is however my home and I have committed myself to her.
The Difference Between Love and Like...
No, this is not the opener of an off-color joke, but a real issue that I (along with many others) struggle with on an almost daily basis. I am compelled to defend Israel against the likes of terrorists, Israel-bashers, Goldstones, Jay Michaelsons, and the like - yet often something annoying transpires leaving a friend or loved one to proclaim "Uch, I hate Israel!" While I realize that sayings such as these are rarely literal, I can't imagine getting stuck in traffic in Chicago and screaming out "I hate America!"
Now, we have real problems here. The education system is screwed up, real-estate prices are getting out of control, we have a growing environmental crisis, the social-Jewish spectrum is more divisive than inclusive, and oh yeah, that pesky conflict with the Palestinians.
On the rare occasion I am even embarrassed to associate myself with the Jewish establishment. [Like, for instance, with a recent ruling in favor of extreme right-wing Jews in the case of a disputed residence in the Arab neighborhood of Sheikh Jarah in East Jerusalem.]
However...
...there are lots of things that I see on a daily basis for which I am proud, and which help to reaffirm my decision to live here. For so many the choice to live here is conditional. No more are the days and sentiments of Yosef Trumpeldor ("Wherever a nail is needed - I will be that nail; Wherever a hammer - I will be a hammer") where no matter what happens here there truly is no other place.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
"For you were a Stranger..."Much has been said, written and commented on involving refugees from Africa and specifically Darfur who have made it across the border and have found haven in the Jewish State.
Well, several thousand refugees and seekers of asylum currently live in Israel. Many are situated in South Tel Aviv, Eilat, and lower-class neighborhoods of Jerusalem.
A few weeks ago Mara and I began babysitting two evenings a week for a family from
The oldest, Mudasir, who was born in Sudan, is 7 and goes to 1st grade in
In the short term spending time with them really brings a human face to all that is happening in the country and in the world.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
GLIMMERING GOLDSTONE GOES FOR GOLD
I have been relatively silent on the matter of the UN and Judge Richard Goldstone's report on operation Cast Lead, but after reading many articles, I find it most appropriate to endorse this one:
"The Goldstone Illusion" by Prof. Moshe Halbertal. He really thoroughly hits the nail on the head, and ably refutes every point that the report makes. An excellent read and an important tool in attempting to understand the complexity of the report.
Thanks Prof. Halbertal.
I have been relatively silent on the matter of the UN and Judge Richard Goldstone's report on operation Cast Lead, but after reading many articles, I find it most appropriate to endorse this one:
"The Goldstone Illusion" by Prof. Moshe Halbertal. He really thoroughly hits the nail on the head, and ably refutes every point that the report makes. An excellent read and an important tool in attempting to understand the complexity of the report.
Thanks Prof. Halbertal.
Berlin
I am writing this as I wind my way through the country side on the way from
This was my second time attending the Jung and Judische conference in Spandau in
This time, much was different. Landing and making our way through
It was cold and sleety, and after a night of no sleep (I mean I had to watch “500 days of Summer” on the plane) we made our way back to
I guess I should stop and mention here that certain facts of life should not be taken for granted. For instance, it goes without saying that the
The Conference
The “Jewish Journeys” conference that I participated in this weekend left me with more questions than answers. As I continue on my own track, continuing to study and work in the field of Jewish education, and drifting further and further away from any religious expression, I found myself in a sort of weird place of not caring yet bothered by certain things.
I try not to make a habit of attending tfilot too often, yet felt the obligation to go (seeing as the conference paid for my being there). So, I was polite and went and tried to be a good example for my former Shnat Netzer students, but some things just get under my skin, as a sort of nostalgic remnant of days when I did care about such trivialities. For example, I can’t help but cringe when the guitar player strums an Em when a G would have suited better. Not something that anyone else noticed, but I just couldn’t help it. Why do they need to cut out so much of Kabbalat Shabbat??? I realized that I connect much more to this section of the Friday night davening as it is simply a compilation of Psalms and Piyyutim that I enjoy much more than other liturgical expressions. I suppose they can’t very well bring themselves to cut the Amidah, but אם כבר אז כבר…
Shabbat morning was slightly worse. It was like a ‘best of’ of classical Reform with thr true German traditions. Now, don’t get me wrong, the rabbinical students leading are indeed well versed, thoughtful and talented, it just wasn’t my style. The former professional classical musician turned rabbi-in-training would be I’m sure a wonderful option for an old school Temple Sinai (Chicago) or Emmanuel (NYC) or even the Great Synagogue (with a piano) but I could only take so much and needed a temporary relocation to the lobby couches where I curled up with a book until the Torah service.
What does this say for the future of liberal Jewish life in
Thursday, September 24, 2009
What does it mean to Love?
I was a bit taken aback by Jay Michaelson's recent essay in the Forward about losing his love for Israel:
http://www.forward.com/articles/114180/
Not, that I was surprised, just a bit saddened. Spoken like a true arm-chair pundit, Jay's conditional love for Israel is waning.
Here was my tapered response:
1. How typical are Jay's sentiments of American Jews?
My guess is yes and no. Yes, because why should people love something they have no connection to? And no, because in order to lose your love one has to have at one point loved. I don't think this is the case for too many US Jews. Some, but not really that many.
2. Should we care?
3. If so, what, if anything, should we do about it?
I welcome your comments.
I was a bit taken aback by Jay Michaelson's recent essay in the Forward about losing his love for Israel:
http://www.forward.com/articles/114180/
Not, that I was surprised, just a bit saddened. Spoken like a true arm-chair pundit, Jay's conditional love for Israel is waning.
Here was my tapered response:
-
Dear Jay,
I am sorry to hear this heart-felt confession, and thank you for writing as my guess is that it is somewhat representative of others in your situation. And taking Robbie Gringras' advice, I'll try not "to communally crap on people who admit their heartfelt concerns about Israel." However, I would like to express my sadness to you. It seems from your essay that you actually do love Israel, but just don't like it very much right now. Yeah, you did a stint here which gives you some street cred, but at the moment it's kind of cramping your style so, in a mild eulogy you attempt to rid yourself of connection and responsibility. Sure, runaway. Go as far as Berlin (which you know evokes emotional eyebrow raising)and sit on its hip and fashionable strasses sipping espresso and being foreign. Would that we all just got up and left for the tolerant and liberal urban havens of Western Europe and NYC.
Do you think we like having to check our bags at every building? I just returned from traveling abroad and was brought back quickly to this reality. Of course we don't. Do you think that we, as soldiers, enjoy or take pleasure in standing at checkpoints, and having to deliberate the human rights vs. civil rights calculation??? Of course not, but we do so in order for people like you to come and drink limonana and picnic in hurshat hayareah, and yes, even visit the kotel - however annoying and cheesy that may be.
Some of us just don't have that luxury. Are you arguing for a full dismantling of the State of Israel? I doubt it. Israel for you is like a friend who you sometimes visit, and now you and that friend are kind of growing apart right now. You're in to different things, have come under different influences. But for others of us, we have committed ourselves to living here. Israel is family. And we don't always agree, see eye-to-eye or even like family, but we don't just write them off because they kind of rub us the wrong way or it gets tiresome defending us to the intolerant masses. Interestingly enough, I doubt you would never say such words about the USA. You survived 8 years of the Bush administration without so much as a divorce, and all your feelings of America (whether you are critical or supportive) come from a sense of belonging and even sub-conscious loyalty. It's so convenient to criticize "someone else's children" yet it is even more difficult to make change from within.
By the way, I live a stones throw away from your beloved Hurshat HaYareah. As a matter of fact, I went jogging through it this morning. Even though you might not come by for a visit it, or are exhausted by the idea of defending my right to live here, I just want to let you know that it's still here and will be waiting for you to renew your love/ignore relationship with it.
B'vracha,
Josh Weinberg
Jerusalem, Israel
1. How typical are Jay's sentiments of American Jews?
My guess is yes and no. Yes, because why should people love something they have no connection to? And no, because in order to lose your love one has to have at one point loved. I don't think this is the case for too many US Jews. Some, but not really that many.
2. Should we care?
3. If so, what, if anything, should we do about it?
I welcome your comments.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Bye Bye Bangkok...
I've had enough. I returned to the polluted streets of sin city for a three day stint to close out my time in Thailand. Basically running errands, internet and last minute shopping were on my agenda.
Coming from the sun soaked beach and tropics of Krabi, Bangkok was a complete buzz kill.
~Highlights~
1. "Whoever has not seen the Chatuhcak (JJ) weekend market - is as if he has never seen a market in all of his days" (to paraphrase Talmudic descriptive phraseology). It really is simply baffling. A massive concacetation of stalls and shops selling anything from used 1988 Air Jordans to kitchen utensils to everything you can only imagine and don't need. I, of course, did some damage. Bargaining led to fatigue, and my worn out wit resorted to deciding on price and just handing over the sweaty bills while taking the merchandise. As I am sure you can imagine many a "this-is-really-cool-in-Thailand-but-nowhere-else" purchase transpired.
2. Chabad. Yes, they made it to #2 on the highlight list - and not only for the free internet drinking water and leftovers. Shabbat at Chabad Bangkok is an experience. I made it for Kabbalat Shabbat and then for dinner. Chabad dinners are all the same, yet the unpredictable hiddush here was "round II." The faithful core who didn't escape to the night market or nightlife post-Birkat Hamazon, were all invited to the Rabbi's quarters (think, East Wing, White House) for another Four Course Meal! Yep, that's right. With Red Label for toasting, I joined the ranks of Chabad's inner circle. This Orthodox backpacker secret society told stories, belted out niggunim, and gave (largely pointless) divrei Torah. Needless to say, an impressive operation.
3. "It's my last night, I'm a rock star!"
"Well, why not," I said to myself, as I sat for a while at an outdoor cafe/bar one block from the bustling and drunken thoroughfare of Khao San Rd. I had been listening to the live performer do justice to many a classic rock and pop hit, as he began to pluck out the opening rift of "Wish You Were Here."
"You know, anyone can jam with him," explained Duncan, a Canadian law student studying in Hong Kong. "Really," I asked hesitatingly. And with that I grabbed the spare guitar, plugged in, and jammed for the ext half hour, covering Pink Floyd, blues (E. Clapton), and my rendition of [my standard repertoire] "Tangled Up in Blue". Sadly, no one caught me on film or photo, so you'll just have to take my word for it. It was great fun, and the crowd of inebriated and musically noviced tourists boosted my ego and satisfied a lone tourist on his final hoorah.
I have reached the capital of the Western World - New York City, and have enjoyed so far, early morning jogs in Central Park (sorry, Dani and Sylvia - I'll where a shirt next time). Mexican Food, Indian Food, Ice Aroma, Upper East Side Houmous (should be an entry all to itself), good Italian wine and Bruschetta, Pizza, and diner style free re-fill coffee.
Dani and Sylvia have been the hosts with the most, and I will write more after Ben and Elizabeth's wedding!
I've had enough. I returned to the polluted streets of sin city for a three day stint to close out my time in Thailand. Basically running errands, internet and last minute shopping were on my agenda.
Coming from the sun soaked beach and tropics of Krabi, Bangkok was a complete buzz kill.
~Highlights~
1. "Whoever has not seen the Chatuhcak (JJ) weekend market - is as if he has never seen a market in all of his days" (to paraphrase Talmudic descriptive phraseology). It really is simply baffling. A massive concacetation of stalls and shops selling anything from used 1988 Air Jordans to kitchen utensils to everything you can only imagine and don't need. I, of course, did some damage. Bargaining led to fatigue, and my worn out wit resorted to deciding on price and just handing over the sweaty bills while taking the merchandise. As I am sure you can imagine many a "this-is-really-cool-in-Thailand-but-nowhere-else" purchase transpired.
2. Chabad. Yes, they made it to #2 on the highlight list - and not only for the free internet drinking water and leftovers. Shabbat at Chabad Bangkok is an experience. I made it for Kabbalat Shabbat and then for dinner. Chabad dinners are all the same, yet the unpredictable hiddush here was "round II." The faithful core who didn't escape to the night market or nightlife post-Birkat Hamazon, were all invited to the Rabbi's quarters (think, East Wing, White House) for another Four Course Meal! Yep, that's right. With Red Label for toasting, I joined the ranks of Chabad's inner circle. This Orthodox backpacker secret society told stories, belted out niggunim, and gave (largely pointless) divrei Torah. Needless to say, an impressive operation.
3. "It's my last night, I'm a rock star!"
"Well, why not," I said to myself, as I sat for a while at an outdoor cafe/bar one block from the bustling and drunken thoroughfare of Khao San Rd. I had been listening to the live performer do justice to many a classic rock and pop hit, as he began to pluck out the opening rift of "Wish You Were Here."
"You know, anyone can jam with him," explained Duncan, a Canadian law student studying in Hong Kong. "Really," I asked hesitatingly. And with that I grabbed the spare guitar, plugged in, and jammed for the ext half hour, covering Pink Floyd, blues (E. Clapton), and my rendition of [my standard repertoire] "Tangled Up in Blue". Sadly, no one caught me on film or photo, so you'll just have to take my word for it. It was great fun, and the crowd of inebriated and musically noviced tourists boosted my ego and satisfied a lone tourist on his final hoorah.
I have reached the capital of the Western World - New York City, and have enjoyed so far, early morning jogs in Central Park (sorry, Dani and Sylvia - I'll where a shirt next time). Mexican Food, Indian Food, Ice Aroma, Upper East Side Houmous (should be an entry all to itself), good Italian wine and Bruschetta, Pizza, and diner style free re-fill coffee.
Dani and Sylvia have been the hosts with the most, and I will write more after Ben and Elizabeth's wedding!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Taking the Fall
It was really just a matter of time. Every climber, at some point or another passes this threshold into wo/manhood. Some do it earlier rather later, and some just embrace it when it happens, hoping to escape with minimal damage and trauma. It's the kind of thing that is better to take place without prior knowledge or prep, and definitely one of those things that you tell your mom about de post facto.
It happened to a fellow French climber called Jean, who was working a tough 6c. I was above him and to the right squatting on a tufa, and the next thing I knew his feet were kicking air upwards, arms flailing and shoulders banging rock. He was out for 3 days with a pulled back, and I, helplessly, watched it all happen.
Of course conventional Top roping, leaves little to worry about in the way of falling. climbers can adopt the nonchalant mellow approach and assume the sometimes necessary risk of reaching far or even jumping for the next jug. Lead climbing, however, is an entirely different story. The falls, while eventually protected, can accumulate a distance of 5 to even 10 meters (depending on the elasticity of the rope, and the belayers preparedness).
Scary Monkey
So, sitting at 'chicken-mama' for breakfast the other morning, and business was usual. I placed my omelet order, and joined the ranks at the bamboo tables and chairs. Pretty soon I looked up to a small commotion, and a Mama-Monkey had jumped down on the table and made off with the dregs of someones bowl of muesli! The whole bowl and everything. After licking it clean, the monkey returned. It casually sauntered over to my table, hopped up, looked around and sat down on my camera.
Now, in my infinite wisdom, and excellent judgment decided to gently remove my Canon power shot from its pink cheeks (no surgery required). Feeling something slightly unusual, it turned around, made eye contact, and from about half a meter away ROARED at me with full fangs and scary attack face and all! Nearly soiling myself, I jumped back, screamed a little, and watched it run away from a barrage of rocks and banana peels, courageously saving me from having to throw down (I don't think it would have waited for me to dig out my leatherman and find the right tool of defence). My heart was racing, and it took some time to regain my composure. So the next time a big mother monkey sits on your camera, well, let it!
It was really just a matter of time. Every climber, at some point or another passes this threshold into wo/manhood. Some do it earlier rather later, and some just embrace it when it happens, hoping to escape with minimal damage and trauma. It's the kind of thing that is better to take place without prior knowledge or prep, and definitely one of those things that you tell your mom about de post facto.
It happened to a fellow French climber called Jean, who was working a tough 6c. I was above him and to the right squatting on a tufa, and the next thing I knew his feet were kicking air upwards, arms flailing and shoulders banging rock. He was out for 3 days with a pulled back, and I, helplessly, watched it all happen.
Of course conventional Top roping, leaves little to worry about in the way of falling. climbers can adopt the nonchalant mellow approach and assume the sometimes necessary risk of reaching far or even jumping for the next jug. Lead climbing, however, is an entirely different story. The falls, while eventually protected, can accumulate a distance of 5 to even 10 meters (depending on the elasticity of the rope, and the belayers preparedness).
My trial by fall came on Tuesday, as I was working a beach front 6b. I was one move away from passing the crux and finishing the route. My arms were aching, and palms sweatier than a sumo wrestler in a sauna. I had gotten the quickdraw in the next bolt and just had to clip in. Apparently easier said than done. I had practised the moves and had the necessary beta (climbing slang for "info") to accomplish the move. I reached right hand (two fingers) into a crack, feet plainly gripping a polished almost marble-esque surface and left hand up to the shelf. Then a right hand match. I was all set to clip. I grabbed the rope held it in my teeth for more slack, and reached up with north paw for the unbearable relief of the clip. With rope between thumb and forefinger I fumbled lamely like a skier trying to thread a needle with his mittens on. Drenching the sand below me with warm salty liquid I just couldn't get it.
"C'mon, C'mon, you got it!" a small crowd shouted at me from below. I had now left Mike (my climbing partner and current belayer) holding me for an unfairly long time. I had to get it. one more second of forearm burn, and I was going to just cheat and grab the quickdraw itself! In my head, I thought I had it as well, and a last second effort to get that rope through the god forsaken gate of a lone carabiner, which meant more to me now than had ever before, looked good... and then I was off.
Stomach in my throat, loss of breath, and a lone yelping expletive having something to do with unlawful carnal knowledge - sent me the full length of two bolts plus another meter or two of stretch, Mike almost into the wall, and the modest gathering of spectators and passers by into a unanimous "Holy Sh*&, nice fall man!"
It was just my time. And, not to disappoint, my time came again on Wednesday, my final climbing day. On a tufa/stalactite filled 6a+ in an area called the nest, I took another 7-8 meter fall. This time, my aching biceps slippery swollen digits, almost sent me decking. Zach, my chain smoking tattooed Australian belayer, was not prepared for such a sudden descent. As my groin neared his shoulder (Bruno-Eminem style) he luckily escaped with only a cut toe.
The 6b I finished, the 6a+ I didn't. (I did do another short but challenging 6a just to finish on a high note).
And such concluded my climbing adventure in Ton Sai. I can't say that I have mastered anything. I felt a minor, but significant improvement, and let's just say that there are no lack of climbs that fall under the category of "we'll get that one next time," including the 5 pitch famous 'humanality'. Needless to say, I loved the climbing, and the atmosphere. The people were alright as well. I will miss the omelet-on-rice breakfast at "The rendez-vous" - a small fly infested shack which everyone knows as 'chicken-mama,' coffee and books at Pyramid, and fire twirling and slack-line shows and Changing out at Small World bar. I owe Mike a debt of gratitude for supplying the rope, quickdraws, safety sling, and quarry fills of chalk. He was a great encouragement and overall superb climbing partner. From one former camp counselor to another, thanks man.
Scary Monkey
So, sitting at 'chicken-mama' for breakfast the other morning, and business was usual. I placed my omelet order, and joined the ranks at the bamboo tables and chairs. Pretty soon I looked up to a small commotion, and a Mama-Monkey had jumped down on the table and made off with the dregs of someones bowl of muesli! The whole bowl and everything. After licking it clean, the monkey returned. It casually sauntered over to my table, hopped up, looked around and sat down on my camera.
Now, in my infinite wisdom, and excellent judgment decided to gently remove my Canon power shot from its pink cheeks (no surgery required). Feeling something slightly unusual, it turned around, made eye contact, and from about half a meter away ROARED at me with full fangs and scary attack face and all! Nearly soiling myself, I jumped back, screamed a little, and watched it run away from a barrage of rocks and banana peels, courageously saving me from having to throw down (I don't think it would have waited for me to dig out my leatherman and find the right tool of defence). My heart was racing, and it took some time to regain my composure. So the next time a big mother monkey sits on your camera, well, let it!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Deep Water Soloing
Nothing gives a rush more than climbing up the face of a cliff - just you and the rock, no ropes harness, or belay - and then jumping off! The 15 meter fall off the cliff landed me in a forceful thrust deep down in the ocean. The human mind is indeed an interesting thing. For the past few weeks I have been training myself that despite ropes and belayers, I want to do everything in my power to NOT fall. I hang, suspend, even dangle from the rock but really make a concerted effort to not fall. Now I'm standing on an edge over looking the glimmering sea, the rest of the days group in a long-tail boat watching and cheering me on. I go to jump... and, nothing! I had locked my arm to an undercling, and it wouldn't let me go. My mind just wouldn't let me throw myself of the wall. Finally after some coaxing and unecessary build-up I launched out into the great abyss. Absoutely the greatest thrill. I swam over to the boat and relished in my minor accomplishment.
The afternoon showed us crystal clear waters stretching across beautiful white sands, and some more slightly more challenging climbing. I was one of the few to make it up a dangling rope ladder and then climb up a giant protruding tufa.
All in all, one of the best experiences I've had here, and one I definitely recommend.
I loved it so much in fact that today we (myself, Tara, Mike an Kristen) rented Kayaks and paddled out to the same area. The rope was still dangling so Mike nd I climbed up and took some head-first dives off the rock! Incredible.
I have only two more days of climbing here in Ton Sai, and will spend them trying to comfortably lead 6b (5.10d) level climbs. Then off to Bangkok and New York City!
Sawasdee Kap!
Nothing gives a rush more than climbing up the face of a cliff - just you and the rock, no ropes harness, or belay - and then jumping off! The 15 meter fall off the cliff landed me in a forceful thrust deep down in the ocean. The human mind is indeed an interesting thing. For the past few weeks I have been training myself that despite ropes and belayers, I want to do everything in my power to NOT fall. I hang, suspend, even dangle from the rock but really make a concerted effort to not fall. Now I'm standing on an edge over looking the glimmering sea, the rest of the days group in a long-tail boat watching and cheering me on. I go to jump... and, nothing! I had locked my arm to an undercling, and it wouldn't let me go. My mind just wouldn't let me throw myself of the wall. Finally after some coaxing and unecessary build-up I launched out into the great abyss. Absoutely the greatest thrill. I swam over to the boat and relished in my minor accomplishment.
The afternoon showed us crystal clear waters stretching across beautiful white sands, and some more slightly more challenging climbing. I was one of the few to make it up a dangling rope ladder and then climb up a giant protruding tufa.
All in all, one of the best experiences I've had here, and one I definitely recommend.
I loved it so much in fact that today we (myself, Tara, Mike an Kristen) rented Kayaks and paddled out to the same area. The rope was still dangling so Mike nd I climbed up and took some head-first dives off the rock! Incredible.
I have only two more days of climbing here in Ton Sai, and will spend them trying to comfortably lead 6b (5.10d) level climbs. Then off to Bangkok and New York City!
Sawasdee Kap!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Meaning of Climbing
Standing up, locked in to my safety sling, at the top of a challenging 6a today, I looked out at the Andaman Sea and the massive rock faces sandwiching the beach. I had made it to the top. It was sketchy climb, with few good hand-holds, and required a lot of balance, leg work and confidence. But hey, it was at the top!
"If we cared about getting to the top so much, we'd build a ladder," goes a popular axiom often quoted here in Ton Sai. True. This climb was less about getting to the top, then developing the confidence building skills that allow me to balance precariously on a toe while blindly scrambling for some hole, crimp or pinch to get a few fingers on.
Not that I have "it," but I feel myself slowly getting "it". I fell and couldn't finish a top-roped 6b today, but (sort of) onsighted a tough 6a+ bereft of any significant foot holds (a huge shout-out and 'danke' to my new Swiss friend Sven for hooking me up with liquid chalk - aka magic! - for which without, this route, I'm convinced would not have been possible). A good feeling. A feeling of knowing that every climb brings me one step closer to having the strength, experience and confidence level necessary to advance.
Is this a metaphor for life?
Probably. So much of life is based on getting through uncomfortable situations. Being afraid of the unknown, the probably-too-difficult, and the potentially scary - that each success, or each time we find the strength and the confidence to go for it so to speak, is feeling of great accomplishment.
ראה
As I stood spread eagle over two rock faces, I couldn't help be reminded of this morning's parsha. As Bnei Yisrael walked in between Mts. Gerizim and Aibal, they heard that oneside offered blessings, the other curses. I too, knew that I would have to choose between two sides, two faces. Would I reach out for a blessing or acquiesce for the lesser "curse". Just a short antecdote, and let's hope we all choose correctly.
Shavua tov.
Standing up, locked in to my safety sling, at the top of a challenging 6a today, I looked out at the Andaman Sea and the massive rock faces sandwiching the beach. I had made it to the top. It was sketchy climb, with few good hand-holds, and required a lot of balance, leg work and confidence. But hey, it was at the top!
"If we cared about getting to the top so much, we'd build a ladder," goes a popular axiom often quoted here in Ton Sai. True. This climb was less about getting to the top, then developing the confidence building skills that allow me to balance precariously on a toe while blindly scrambling for some hole, crimp or pinch to get a few fingers on.
Not that I have "it," but I feel myself slowly getting "it". I fell and couldn't finish a top-roped 6b today, but (sort of) onsighted a tough 6a+ bereft of any significant foot holds (a huge shout-out and 'danke' to my new Swiss friend Sven for hooking me up with liquid chalk - aka magic! - for which without, this route, I'm convinced would not have been possible). A good feeling. A feeling of knowing that every climb brings me one step closer to having the strength, experience and confidence level necessary to advance.
Is this a metaphor for life?
Probably. So much of life is based on getting through uncomfortable situations. Being afraid of the unknown, the probably-too-difficult, and the potentially scary - that each success, or each time we find the strength and the confidence to go for it so to speak, is feeling of great accomplishment.
ראה
As I stood spread eagle over two rock faces, I couldn't help be reminded of this morning's parsha. As Bnei Yisrael walked in between Mts. Gerizim and Aibal, they heard that oneside offered blessings, the other curses. I too, knew that I would have to choose between two sides, two faces. Would I reach out for a blessing or acquiesce for the lesser "curse". Just a short antecdote, and let's hope we all choose correctly.
Shavua tov.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
6a+
Yesterday, Mike and I headed up to firewall on Ton Sai beach and did a nice 6a called "groove tube". I am working on my leading technique and doing alright with it. We then led a tougher 6a+ (5.10b) which after slipping off once, I finally got it! There was a tough maneuver, and I felt pretty good about it. One of the best feelings in the world. As a reward, I treated myself to a nalgene full of electrolytes and pad thai in a bag!
I then went to meet a good friend Tara. It was really nice to hang out and to catch up with her, and to have company here.
The culture here in Ton Sai is nice. It reminds me a lot of high school, and that there are different cliques - I even told someone that they are the Zach Morris of the Max or the Brandon of the Peach Pit. I usually eat breakfast at a place called Pyramid or a 40 baht omelette at Chicken Mama's.
And have become a big fan of 10 baht pad thai in a little baggy, which we call lunchable pad thai.
In the evening the transient expat climber crowd finds its way to a bar called "small world" where the Thai bar tenders amaze the tipsy clientel with there fireshows and slack-line acrobatics. It is seriously impressive.
I am enjoying my time here and working on the climbing. Tomorrow may see a Deep Water Solo climbing experience, but will make a game time call.
Off to hit the walls...
Yesterday, Mike and I headed up to firewall on Ton Sai beach and did a nice 6a called "groove tube". I am working on my leading technique and doing alright with it. We then led a tougher 6a+ (5.10b) which after slipping off once, I finally got it! There was a tough maneuver, and I felt pretty good about it. One of the best feelings in the world. As a reward, I treated myself to a nalgene full of electrolytes and pad thai in a bag!
I then went to meet a good friend Tara. It was really nice to hang out and to catch up with her, and to have company here.
The culture here in Ton Sai is nice. It reminds me a lot of high school, and that there are different cliques - I even told someone that they are the Zach Morris of the Max or the Brandon of the Peach Pit. I usually eat breakfast at a place called Pyramid or a 40 baht omelette at Chicken Mama's.
And have become a big fan of 10 baht pad thai in a little baggy, which we call lunchable pad thai.
In the evening the transient expat climber crowd finds its way to a bar called "small world" where the Thai bar tenders amaze the tipsy clientel with there fireshows and slack-line acrobatics. It is seriously impressive.
I am enjoying my time here and working on the climbing. Tomorrow may see a Deep Water Solo climbing experience, but will make a game time call.
Off to hit the walls...
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Multi-Pitching
Today I learned how to multi-pitch! I practiced on the ground a few times, and then set it up on my own after leading up a 5a climb. My guide Koas, followed me up and then we snappeled down. It was pretty cool to get all of the technicalities down.
That pretty much concludes my course, and now I'm on my own to climb. I've already met a prospective climbing partner and should be good.
I am posting more photos on picasa to check out!
Today I learned how to multi-pitch! I practiced on the ground a few times, and then set it up on my own after leading up a 5a climb. My guide Koas, followed me up and then we snappeled down. It was pretty cool to get all of the technicalities down.
That pretty much concludes my course, and now I'm on my own to climb. I've already met a prospective climbing partner and should be good.
I am posting more photos on picasa to check out!
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Breaking New Ground
Today I led a 6a (5.10a) climb! For the first time in my life, I led a 6a. I was pissed because I couldn't make it this morning, and then this afternoon I nailed it. Alright, my guide said it was an easy 6a but hey, I did it.
I felt like quite the failure this morning after insisting on being lowered in light scraping my fingertips open and bleeding on the rock, but I guess no pain no gain.
Now with taped up fingers I went back to lead a few 5b's (5.8,5.9) and then got the easy 6a.
Hope is not lost.
Today I led a 6a (5.10a) climb! For the first time in my life, I led a 6a. I was pissed because I couldn't make it this morning, and then this afternoon I nailed it. Alright, my guide said it was an easy 6a but hey, I did it.
I felt like quite the failure this morning after insisting on being lowered in light scraping my fingertips open and bleeding on the rock, but I guess no pain no gain.
Now with taped up fingers I went back to lead a few 5b's (5.8,5.9) and then got the easy 6a.
Hope is not lost.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Krabi and Climbing
After traveling for close to 18 hours by bus, minivan, and long tail boat I arrived on the coast of Ton Sai, Asia's climbing mecca. It is a sleepy strip of beach bookended by limestone karsts and built in between the white sands and steadily developed jungle. It is low-season here which means that many bars and restaurants are temporarily closed and prices have plummeted! I found a hostel for 150 baht ($5) - which I've since upraged to a nicer room for the same price. Ton Sai is only accessible by boat and to get to nearby Rai Lay (West) beach one must either scramble over the monkey trail of rock and jungle or wade through shin deep ocean along the coast - only during low tide. The views of foliage carpeted rock jutting out of the water or beach are breathtaking. I could sit and stare all day, and a plethora of people actually do.
The name of the game here is climbing, and the view people who don't climb are looked at with a glance of "oh ok, so what are you doing here?!?!" - which no one would actually come out and say because everyone is so nice and polite, seriously.
I decided to go the route of an actual guided course, which being more expensive is a gamble but has been good so far. I went with King Climbers who, so far, have been professional and solid. I started out top roping on 5 and 6a climbs (about 5-8 and 5-10 in North American terms) and even began lead climbing.
Leading is an entirely different ballgame. Every move really matters. I am hesitant to slip and fall victim to a 2-5 meter drop, possibly leading me body first back into the rock. So far I have only led level 5 climbs which allows me to learn the technique and become familiar with leading before attempting anything more serious.
After two days of climbing, my fingers have been cut up on the sharp rock faces and my muscles are pretty sore. Tomorrow will be another full day and hopefully I will have more strength.
There are of course climbers of all walks and skill level. I'm not alone in my mediocrity, but this morning I witnessed two guys ascend a 6 pitch, level 7a multi-pitch face over the beach of Ton Sai called "humanality". I was awe-struck, vanquished to stares and gapes in full admiration.
Ton Sai's climbing (as well as adjacent Rai Lay) possess a mystical powering luring and capturing people into extended stays. I have met many a traveler who explained that they were meant to carry on, but "got stuck" here. The travelers here are somewhat diverse, but the majority are Brits, Germans, Canadiennes, French, Scandinavian, Dutch, a few Americans and the occasional Israeli (not here for the climbing). People are great, open and inviting, and I even met a Swiss woman who had previously done the Green Apprenticeship on Kibbutz Lotan (and couldn't fathom that I had heard of it and even knew some of the same people)!
Everything is chill here in Rai Lay and Ton Sai, and I will write more on my climbing progress.
After traveling for close to 18 hours by bus, minivan, and long tail boat I arrived on the coast of Ton Sai, Asia's climbing mecca. It is a sleepy strip of beach bookended by limestone karsts and built in between the white sands and steadily developed jungle. It is low-season here which means that many bars and restaurants are temporarily closed and prices have plummeted! I found a hostel for 150 baht ($5) - which I've since upraged to a nicer room for the same price. Ton Sai is only accessible by boat and to get to nearby Rai Lay (West) beach one must either scramble over the monkey trail of rock and jungle or wade through shin deep ocean along the coast - only during low tide. The views of foliage carpeted rock jutting out of the water or beach are breathtaking. I could sit and stare all day, and a plethora of people actually do.
The name of the game here is climbing, and the view people who don't climb are looked at with a glance of "oh ok, so what are you doing here?!?!" - which no one would actually come out and say because everyone is so nice and polite, seriously.
I decided to go the route of an actual guided course, which being more expensive is a gamble but has been good so far. I went with King Climbers who, so far, have been professional and solid. I started out top roping on 5 and 6a climbs (about 5-8 and 5-10 in North American terms) and even began lead climbing.
Leading is an entirely different ballgame. Every move really matters. I am hesitant to slip and fall victim to a 2-5 meter drop, possibly leading me body first back into the rock. So far I have only led level 5 climbs which allows me to learn the technique and become familiar with leading before attempting anything more serious.
After two days of climbing, my fingers have been cut up on the sharp rock faces and my muscles are pretty sore. Tomorrow will be another full day and hopefully I will have more strength.
There are of course climbers of all walks and skill level. I'm not alone in my mediocrity, but this morning I witnessed two guys ascend a 6 pitch, level 7a multi-pitch face over the beach of Ton Sai called "humanality". I was awe-struck, vanquished to stares and gapes in full admiration.
Ton Sai's climbing (as well as adjacent Rai Lay) possess a mystical powering luring and capturing people into extended stays. I have met many a traveler who explained that they were meant to carry on, but "got stuck" here. The travelers here are somewhat diverse, but the majority are Brits, Germans, Canadiennes, French, Scandinavian, Dutch, a few Americans and the occasional Israeli (not here for the climbing). People are great, open and inviting, and I even met a Swiss woman who had previously done the Green Apprenticeship on Kibbutz Lotan (and couldn't fathom that I had heard of it and even knew some of the same people)!
Everything is chill here in Rai Lay and Ton Sai, and I will write more on my climbing progress.
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