How Does Your Garden Grow?

In our pretty-good garden on the balcony is an accidental papaya tree. Probably it started as a seed that blew in on the wind. Everything seems to sprout here, no matter how much care (or neglect) you put into the project.

The Thai way is to grow plants in pots rather than beds. Even the huge permanent displays in front of public buildings really consist of hundreds of separate plants, each in its own pot. I read somewhere that people do this so they can move plants easily to higher ground when floods come.

Despite the wet and the heat, killing plants here seems harder than keeping them alive. Whenever we’ve had plants that look close to death, I’ve revived them by giving them a severe haircut and popping them into a new pot. In no time they’re thriving again.

The next step in my Thai gardening education will be figuring out which plants are pleasing to which spirits. I gather that certain species are thought to bring good luck, or to combine well with others to protect us from harm. If I ever re-arrange the pots on the balcony, I notice that the caregivers put them all back again the next day. Once or twice a new flower I’ve brought home has simply disappeared without a word. Time will tell if the papaya gets tossed out before it bears fruit.

Khao Sam Roi Yod National Park

A couple weeks ago, as Jip and I were coming back from a nice visit to Jip’s mom and grandma, I re-noticed some silhouetted mountains jutting up between the main road and the sea. Jip told me that the range and the national park surrounding it are known as “Three Hundred Peaks.” When I mentioned the place in Bangkok, I found that it’s well known among birders.

So I went back there on a scouting mission this past weekend, looking for spots where Jip and I could check off a few species. (Jip can identify most local birds by ear.) I arrived at the park entrance by bicycle and explained my quest to the rangers. They were excited to help. After asking about her wheelchair and her vision, they recommended a marsh with a boardwalk built out into it. They said it’s not far off the highway and attracts a mix of shore and inland birds.

I look forward to detouring there some day when we’re back in the neighborhood. This weekend, the boardwalk was too far to bike to. Instead, the rangers steered me to a beach they said I might enjoy for the trail that climbs to a well-known cave. From photos they showed me, I wasn’t too impressed, but I didn’t have any better ideas.

A map at the trailhead starred the standard nature-trail attractions: 1) big tree, 2) interesting orchid species, 3) spectacled langur… Wait. How could the mapmakers be confident enough of where this monkey-like creature would be sitting that they could mark its location with a star? Sure enough, when I got to number 3 on the trail, I looked up to see several pairs of little sunglasses staring down at me. No sign of a chain or rope keeping the critters there. No trash cans or similar buffet on offer. Must simply be a favorite hangout.

Phraya Nakhon Cave surprised me too. The pictures showed what seemed to be a small temple framed by a shallow depression in a cliff face. It’s common in Thailand to turn caves into Buddhist shrines.

Instead I found a huge goldfish-bowl-shaped sinkhole, more like a stadium than a cave. Because it’s open at the top, letting in a few hours of light every day, plants thrive there. Plus you’ve got your stalactites and stalagmites and echoes and… of course… a tasteful pavilion built in honor of the visit paid there over a hundred years ago by King Chulalongkorn. Naturally.

Catch Your Breath

I had just arrived home after work when a neighbor called. She had planned to visit us that evening, but wanted to ask, “Do you need a few minutes to catch your breath first?”

I didn’t. Her question made me realize that in this country I almost never do. We live in an unhurried place.

Jip's Bookshelf

Jip and I got back yesterday from visiting her village. While we were there her mom asked me to go through some of Jip’s old books. Anything we didn’t want to keep she planned to give away to the local high school.

What a wonderful reminder of who Jip used to be! I found lots of stuff about Buddhism on those shelves, but also Growing Up Catholic; The Tao of Pooh; Rumi, Poet and Mystic; Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind; The Power of Myth; A Christmas Carol; and even Waterbuffalo Theology.

Then came the anthropologist section—Cry the Beloved Country, Roots, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Gandhi: An Autobiography, Cathedrals and Abbeys of France, and Peoples of the Golden Triangle. I recognized the rebel nurse in titles like Blood and Guts and Our Bodies Our Selves, which sat next to The Manual of Gynecologic and Obstetric Emergencies. And of course the conservationist shelf—Rachel Carson, lots of writings by and about American Indians, and The Complete Birder.

My throat caught when I came across A Sand County Almanac. That book was very important to me in my 20s. Everything looked different to me after reading it. I remember preparing to lie down in front of bulldozers to prevent any further destruction of the American wilderness.

I had wondered what happened to my copy. Probably I brought it with me when I first came to Thailand, then passed it along to Jip, thinking it would speak to her too. Re-reading it now, I confess to feeling a little discouraged, wondering if our species is going to make it. But I do smile thinking of how a book inspired by a Wisconsin farm came to be part of a fascinating Thai-English library in a southern Thai village.