A Brasilian Paradise - Parati

"Oh! God, if there were a paradise on earth, it wouldn't be very far from here!" - Amerigo Vespucci upon seeing the coastal region of Brasil surrounding the colonial town of Parati.



During my first assignment in Brasil, I took the opportunity to visit Parati. Working in Brasil was a great experience. I often refer to Brsil as a civilized country - civilized in the sense that in the state of Parana where I worked there were 16 holidays per year. The holidays were a combination of federal, state and religious observances. To make matters even better many of the holidays occurred on either a Thursday or Tuesday. The Brasilians typically converted these holidays into 4 day weekends great opportunities to get out and about to explore the country.

I flew from Curitiba to Rio De Janeiro's Aeroporto International Rio de Janeiro. From the international airport, I drove my rental car south along the coast towards Sao Paulo. Highway BR101, named Rio-Santos Highway, runs mostly along the coast with the heavily vegetated mountains of the Serra do Mar and Serra Das Araras on one side of the road and the Atlantic Ocean on the other.




Parati is a colonial village settled in the early 1500s. Parati was an important port supporting the gold mining industry of the interior regions surrounding Ouro Preto. Beside having a port, Parati was only place where the mountains and cliffs of the Serra do Mar could be climbed. Mining supplies traveled from Parati to the mines with gold leaving for Europe. Parati became very wealthy.






Parati's wealth and importance started to decline in the 1720's when an alternative route cut 15 days of travel. In the 1800s Parati was well known for coffee cultivation. Today it is well known for it cachaca (pinga) - raw white rum production as well as tourism. Until the middle 1950s the only way to access Parati was by sea thus helping to preserve the quaintness of the village.

The streets are covered with cobblestones. The buildings are trimmed with elaborate tile trim and pastel colors. Restaurants as well as shops are located in former residences which eliminates much of the commercial crassness of other tourist centers.



From the municipal pier you can buy a ticket to cruise on a schooner on the large and tranquil bay dotted with many forested islands. Some of the islands have beautiful houses on them - secluded retreats for the well to do of Sao Paulo and Rio.

"Doctor" Feel Good

Yesterday there was a festival in Kumphawapi. The highlight of the festival was long boat racing on the river or more like - flooded land that runs on the edge of the downtown center.

The long boats were around 50 to 60 feet long and very narrow. From bow to stern they were packed with paddlers. The banks along the water were covered with spectators watching and cheering on their favorite team. The main road's bridge over the water was lined with spectators and flags.

In the park where the monkeys hang out, there were all kinds of booths with games such as burst the balloons with darts, food, and drink. We also saw two small elephants being paraded around the grounds.

So why am I not posting pictures of this event? I don't have any. I could not walk. I have an injured foot that severely limits my mobility.

Three days ago I was demonstrating to Duang my Lao Loum dancing moves to one of my favorite songs. The moves involved stomping with alternating feet. I did this in bare feet on the concrete and tile floor of our living room. The next morning my left foot felt as if it had a cracked bone or stepped on by an elephant.

After two days I decided to listen to Duang and have the foot checked out. She knew of a "doctor who has Santa Claus inside him who take care of people good". The translation is "There is a doctor who has the spirit of God in him which allows him to take care of people well" Her cousin was going to see him yesterday so I could go too and be taken care of. Since Duang was putting both of her good feet down and insisting that I see a doctor and would not allow me to go photograph in Kumphawapi until I had the foot looked after, I agreed. Besides this sounded interesting - "a doctor with Santa Claus inside..." I am open minded and besides this had a sense of adventure to it. Despite my open mind and sense of adventure, as my late grandmother used to say "I am not crazy ... yet".

Prior to going to see the miracle worker of the paddies, I had duang, her son and his girl friend take me to the emergency room of the private international hospital here in Udonthani. I saw a doctor and had my foot x-rayed. I do not have a cracked bone or a broken bone but I do have a sprained or bruised foot as I had suspected. Years ago I had the same injury when I cut firewood for my children in Yellowstone National Park using Rambo karate kicks. Knowing that nothing can be done other than rest the foot, elevate foot, ice the foot, take Motrin, and wear an elastic bandage on the foot, I was reassured that consulting the "doctor with Santa Claus" would cause no harm. The total bill for the emergency room visit - $23.53 U. S. dollars.

We went to Tahsang Village to pick up Duang's cousin to see the doctor. Well in the end 10 of us ended up in the pick up truck. We had to go through Kumphawapi to get to the doctor so I was able to glimpse the festival.

We drove way out into the middle of the rice farming region. Six times we had to stop to ask or to confirm directions to the place we were going to. Surprisingly, everyone knew about this guy and was able to guide us on our way. After about an hour we arrived at a typical Isaan village and found the doctor's place.

Several people were there ahead of us. I hobbled inside of his house and sat down on a wood couch in his living room which was also his clinic. Three woven reed mats, sahts, lay on the floor. Each saht had a patient laying on it. On the floor next to me were several, as in 50 or more, medical syringes. Along with the syringes were just as many hypodermic needles - factory fresh in their sealed packaging. This was a relief to see that he was exercising good practices for injections. A stethoscope lay on the floor that the doctor used to listen to each patient's heart through both their chest, and neck. Next to the unused syringes were many bundles of injectable medicines scattered about the floor. There was a cardboard box that contained different sized vials of injectable medicines. A small plastic bag was used to contain the disposed of empty vials. A Glass jar was just about filled with discarded needles.

Duang's cousin although a young woman, is partially paralyzed on her left side - I suspect fro polio or a mild stroke. I know that she also suffers from epilepsy. I asked Duang why her cousin was seeing the doctor and Duang explained to me that her cousin had been getting dizzy and passing out lately.

Her cousin laid down on the saht and the doctor checked her heart with the stethoscope and felt her ankles with his hands just as he did with every other patient. He spoke about 30 seconds with her and told her that she had a bad heart. He then gave her two injections. Since I could not move well, I had Duang bring me one of the empty vials that had been used on her cousin. The vial was "Diazepam" more commonly known as "Valium". That did it for me - there was no way this doctor was going to be doing anything for me! There was no way he was going to be doing anything for Duang! Prior to entering his house he told me that he could "take care of me one time only - 100%". I did not see a medical diploma or license on the walls. The lack of medicines other than injectables seemed suspicious to me. The fact that everyone ended up with 2 or three injections made me extremely suspicious. Knowing that he injected someone with a "bad heart" with Valium scared me. I declined as best as I could without him losing face and I was adamant to Duang that she would not be examined.

Of the 10 people in our group that went to the doctor - 6 received injections and paid their $2.94 USD. I was appalled. When we got back home I explained to Duang why I didn't let the doctor treat me and would not let him treat her. I told her that the doctor did not cure anyone but only made them "feel" better. The trip back to Tahsang Village was quiet, just about all the patients had gone to sleep.

As I was writing this blog, I discussed yesterday's events once again with Duang. I told her that I did not think that the man was a real doctor and that I knew more about medicine than him. She said "No he not doctor, he man that wants to help people. He go to school to be a doctor but not finish after two years. he learn some things in school to help people (no doubt giving injections). Santa Claus (God) told the man to help people and complained that the man had not been a Monk yet." The man went to the local authorities and told them that he had two years of school and wanted to help people so they apparently allow him to "practice medicine" She told me that the man was going to be helping people for five years and then he was going to become a Monk. She said the people felt better that he had helped them. I explained the difference between being cured and feeling better.

Doctor Feel Good makes his patients feel better but I doubt that many are cured by his efforts.

Absolutely scary - another reason why we need to know as much as we can about everything in order to make informed decisions.

History Can Be A Cruel Judge

This week has been rather low key. We continue to go into town for Duang to see the doctor every two or three days as he directs us to. She is recovering very nicely from her surgery. New skin is growing over the grafts and her hearing has already improved noticeably. The visits to the doctor are to clean the ears and for the doctor to monitor her condition. We are not charged for the visits and they are an opportunity for Duang to keep up to date with the other patients that we see at the office - time and time again. Here in Isaan gossip and small talk is a big pastime with doctor's offices and hospital especially fertile grounds.

I have completed my second book, and am editing it prior to ordering a copy to preview here in Thailand. I was able to keep it at 200 pages so am pleased that the price will be what I had targeted.

Another big activity this past week has been connecting with people that I have not communicated with in over 38 years. What was extremely difficult just 10 years ago, is fairly easy now with the capabilities of the Internet. In reestablishing contact with people from the past, I got motivated to haul out my college yearbook - University of Rhode Island 1971.

It was a very sad and embarrassing experience. It was sad in that the yearbook was such a piece of crap. In their song "Book Ends" Simon and Garfunkel sing

"Time it was and what a time it was it was,
A time of innocence a time of confidences.

Long ago it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you"

Well there isn't all that much left of us in the university yearbook. The photographs are very poor and the writing was not much better. The book was not even organized very well. To find a photograph of a classmate in the yearbook you need to know their Zodiac or you have to thumb through all the photographs until you find them. To use a current popular phrase "What were you thinking ...?" After 38 years, do people care anymore than they did back then what some one's birth sign is?

Most of the photographs lack any captions so much of their significance is lost.

All in all it was embarrassing much like watching a 1968 through 1971 movie starring Elliot Gould - Embarrassing and just as painful. It is painful to see and realize that so much of our memories of our graduating year were high jacked by political click that usurped the yearbook for their personal political agenda.

Of course I am guilty like so many others of not caring about the direction of the yearbook or the politics of the day. This apathy allowed the extremists to have their way. Unfortunately most politics is the same be it radical, liberal, conservative, or whatever. It participants are basically cut out of the same mold - egocentric arrogant megalomaniacs.

I remember at the time of the late 60s and early 70s I was as much opposed to Mark Rudd, Rennie Davis, Jerry Rubin. and Abbie Hoffman as I was to Lyndon Johnson, Spiro Agnew, John Mitchell, and Richard Nixon. I saw that they were the same people only with different clothing and hairstyles. They shared the same arrogance and intolerance for dissent. They all needed the same adulation and affection. They thirsted for the same power and control.

It is ironic how politicians and leaders all end up with the same self defining look of arrogance - a smirk to dismiss all that dare to question or oppose their intentions.

Looking back at the year book, I see the same traits and ensuing results in the yearbook. It is lamentable that the staff could not anticipate the future and allow for it in their work product. They could have better served their present and definitely served their future much better.

Karl Marx wrote "History repeats itself ... the first time as tragedy and the second time as farce". From afar it seems to me that the radical and derisive politics of the 60s and 70s are unfolding a second time. The times have changed. The issues are the same. The cast of characters are the same. Only the actors have changed.

There may or may not be a Final Judgement but there is a harsh and cruel Judge for all of us to reckon with in the interim - History.

Bang Fai Phaya Nark - The Naga Fireballs

Yesterday, October 04, was Ok Phansa here in Thailand. Ok Phansa marks the end of Buddhist Lent and coincidentally the end of the monsoon season. During Buddhist Lent, the Monks are confined to their monasteries and Wats. There is some debate as to the origins of this requirement. One cause is attributable to the need for the Monks to avoid trampling an living creatures while walking about on the flooded lands. The other reason is said to be to prevent the Monks from trampling the newly planted rice during their excursions.

Here in Isaan, the full moon of the eleventh lunar month, marks the celebration of Bang Fai Phaya Nark (pronounced Bang - Fye - Paiyah - Nah). The focus of this celebration are the "Naga Fireballs". This is no small event, the most popular Thai television station, Channel 7, was broadcasting the event live throughout Thailand and Laos.

The Naga fireballs are globes of light that rise up out of the Mekong River and surrounding ponds as well as tributaries to the Mekong. The fireballs are silent, smokeless and have no odor. As the full moon rises above the horizon, the fireballs begin to rise out of the water to a height of about 100 feet. The reddish balls upon reaching their apogee, disappear into the dark sky.

The Lao Loum people believe that the fireballs are caused by Phaya Nagi, a mythical serpent who is also King of the water underworld (reference my previous blog "Go-Go Girls at the Gate ..." dated 10 May 2009.). The fireballs at the end of Buddhist Lent commemorates the fireballs that the Nagas (serphents) created as offerings and entertainment for Buddha upon one of his returns to Earth.

There are several places to observe the fireballs along the Thai side of the Mekong River. Yesterday we went to one of the more popular locations, a town named "Phon Phisai" which is located several kilometers downstream from the border crossing town of Nong Khai. Along the Thai riverbank hundreds of thousands of people sit to await the arrival of the fireballs. We decided to beat the notorious traffic jams by leaving our home in Udonthani around 11:30 A. M. and taking a roundabout route through the small villages set out amongst the rice paddies rather than than more direct route on Isaan's equivalent of the Interstate highway to Nong Khai. Our strategy to Phon Phisai worked like a charm.

We found a place to park the truck one block from the river bank and one block from the Wat over looking the Mekong. We walked the one block to the river and encountered a pedestrian walkway filled with restaurants, food vendors, souvenir booths, and drink booths. On the other side of the pedestrian walkway was the grassy river bank. At some locations there were nice elevated wood pavilions jutting out to close to the water's edge. These locations were already filled with families. Other locations of the walkway were filled with tables and plastic chairs that had reserved signs on them. We found a great place to set up our saht (woven reed mat) to await and view the fireballs.

Built into the river bank was a series of concrete stairs to form stadium seating approximately 6 levels high. Between the last concrete step and the river was a 15 foot high grassy drop off with some scattered bushes to the water. We selected a great spot across from a restaurant that had live entertainment. Our spot had a a little shade which was very welcomed because it was sunny, hot and humid. I sweated from 1:30 P.M. until the truck A/C cooled me off at 10:30 P. M.

We entertained ourselves until sunset around 5:30 P. M. With the setting sun, some of the spectators launched "Khom Fai", Lanna style paper sky lanterns. Khom Fai are tissue paper hot air balloons that rise into the sky from the hot air created by the burning wax or paraffin ring suspended inside of them. They create a very warm light and rise very high into the night. Last night was absolutely perfect for them - still with no wind.

We had been told that the Naga fireballs would be most likely to appear between 6:00 P.M. and 9:00 P.M. I didn't quite understand.

Some scientific people attribute the Naga fireballs to release of methane gases caused by decaying vegetation in the river mud. These scientists also state that these gas bubbles spontaneously ignite was above the water's surface. I did not quite understand.

At 6:00 P.M. I looked up the river towards Nong Khai and saw thousands and thousands of lights coming towards us. I joked with Duang about seeing the Naga fireballs. Shortly later the lights were quickly passing by us. The lights were actually small fires floating upon the river - being swiftly swept downstream by the river current. Now it was starting to make sense. Now I was understanding.

This must be how people can predict that the ball will appear on Ok Phansa night. This must be how the gas bubbles, if that what they are, can ignite. There still remains some mystery in that the river is always swiftly moving at this time of year so the theory of releasing gas from decaying river bottom vegetation isn't full credible.

The flow of floating fires upon the river continued unabated for three hours. While the offerings were floating by, people on the riverbanks - both sides, Thailand and Laos were occupied launching fireworks and fire crackers over the river. The launching of sky lanterns and fireworks filled the night sky with a variety of lights and sounds.

After two hours, we had not seen any Naga fireballs. We were considering leaving at 8:00 P.M. when I noticed something different headed towards us - lighted boats. Earlier in the afternoon we had seen some river boats (similar to pirouges in Louisiana) lashed together with strings suspended from frameworks attached to the boats. The boats were headed upstream towards Nong Khai.

The boats were now floating downstream with the river current. Suspended from the strings were burning candles to create the effect of large floating outlined boats. It was beautiful. After an hour the boat parade was over. We had not seen any Naga fireballs. It was 9:00 P. M. so we decided to head home. Our return strategy was the same as the one that got us to Phon Phisai. It worked well ONCE WE SPENT ONE HOUR in horrendous traffic traveling the two miles to get to the split in the road to Nong Khai and our interim destination of Baan Dung.

We had not seen any Naga fireballs. We don't know if anyone did. But we may have come close, too close ... when we first arrived at "our" spot we went up to a booth under a large shade tree to buy some ice teas. While I was paying there was a small commotion, a small 3/4" by 18" long green snake, was slithering up the tree trunk just behind the booth. Later in the night, there was a group of young men on a saht drinking, singing and having a great time by a lit candle on the ground about 15 feet from us. All of a sudden we heard them yelling, hollering and saw them jumping around. I thought that perhaps one of them had caught on fire and then I saw it. I saw it in the dim light. On the ground slithering towards us in a fairly rapid speed was the afternoon snake. Half way to us, the snake turned and disappeared into the overgrowth where I had been tramping around taking photographs. It was pretty exciting. Perhaps when he gets older there will be more fireballs.

Overcoming Adversity - An Inspiration

During my travels near and far, I have experienced many religious sights, rituals as well as events. These places and events have intrigued me greatly. I have been impressed with the faith, devotion, and myriad efforts by man to spiritually elevate himself.

At times, like many other people, I have remarked as well as lamented about how much suffering and pain has been inflicted upon people in the name of religions. It is true but it is not the only thing that religions have provided people. Religions have provided people with a sense of meaning as well as direction to their life. Religious beliefs have inspired men and women to heroic levels of compassion, charity, and sacrifice for the benefit of fellow mankind. Religious beliefs have also motivated people to overcome adversities and inspired magnificent works of art in the celebration of one's faith.

One such example, that you most likely are unaware of is "The Little Cripple" Aleijadinho.

Antonio Francisco Lisboa, the mullato son of a Portuguese carpenter turned "architect" and his African slave, was born in 1738. Approximately 4,000,000 Africans had been imported to Brasil to support the cultivation of sugar cane and mining of precious minerals. Antonio's home town at the time was known as "Vila Rica" (Rich Town) in the Brasilian State of Minas Gerais for the wealth created from mining the gold deposits in the surrounding countryside. Today the city is known as "Ouro Preto" -"Black Gold".

It is believed that the young Antonio learned about architecture from his father and stone carving from the Brasilian sculptor Francisco Xavier de Bito. Even today the region around Ouro Preto is famous for soapstone carving though today the items are much more mundane and utilitarian - pizza stones, and cookware rather than baroque style sculptures of the 1700 and 1800's.


By the time he was a young man, he had developed a unique sculpture and painting style. His sculpture style was defined by strong expressive carving while his painting style utilized great contrasts and bold colors. He designed and constructed the Chapel of the Third Order of St Francis in Ouro Preto.

When he was young man, Antonio suffered the debilitating effects of a very serious disease thought to be either leprosy or syphilis. The disease progressed over time to the point where Antonio lost his fingers, toes, much skin, and eventually became blind. He became known as "O Aleijadinho" (The Little Cripple)

As his physical condition deteriorated, Aleijadinho became more reclusive. He worked at night to avoid being ogled by the local people. Legend has it that he was carried from his home to his workplace in a covered chair carried on the shoulders of four men. He suffered so greatly from his affliction that he is said to have removed some of his mangled useless fingers with a chisel that he was using to carve stone.


Aleijadinho's greatest body of work is at the Santuario de Bom Jesus de Matosinhos in Congonhas do Campo in Minas Gerais. In 1757 a local wealthy man had construction start on a grand church in thanks as well as commemoration of his recovery from a serious disease. Today the church remains a pilgrimage site. I visited the church during pilgrimage season. The event was another awe inspiring experience of faith and devotion emanating from the past and continuing on into the present day.


From 1800 to 1805, Aleijadinho carved the "12 Prophets" that stand on the terraced courtyard in front of the church. He carved with chisels and tools tied to the stumps at the end of his wrists. These statues are considered to be his masterpieces. Since he did not have feet any more, pads were strapped to his knees to assist him in climbing the ladders to be able to sculpt the 10 foot high statues.

Below the prophets are six chapels each containing scenes with life sized carved cedar Passion figures carved by Aleijadinho and his students.

Our visit to this was memorable - the sanctity of the church, the devotion of the pilgrims, the oppressive September heat of Minas Gerais, and most of the masterpieces born of the pain, suffering and genius of Aleijadinho.

To be honest there are some people who doubt the existence of Aleijadinho and consider him to be only a legend. Some research and books have been written laying out this possibility. Like almost all things religious and sometimes political a certain amount of faith is required. I believe. I believe that there was an Aleijadinho - "The Little Cripple" celebrated as Brasil's first great artist.

Allen's World is a better place with people like Aleijadinho having been in it and with his masterpieces remaining as part of it.

Additional photographs of this special place in Brasil can be viewed at:

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Travel/Congonhas-do-Campo-Brasil/9757059_jsdoP/1/661026213_8FFUL

Getting Caught Up

Many things have occurred since my last blog.

I have edited some more photographs. The result is a new gallery of Maehongson on my photography website

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Travel/Maehongson-December-2007/9739423_FNQuv/1/659455871_BxcgM

Duang has been to the doctor and had most of the cotton packing removed form her ears. We have to return on Saturday to have the stitches removed. So far it has been a good experience for everyone involved.

We have seen Peelawat, our 7 month old Grandson, twice. He has developed a couple new behaviors that make me wonder if humor is not genetically embedded rather cultural. He can now stand up on a chair leaning forward and grasping the chair back with his hand for balance. We had to take Duang's mother to the Regional Cancer Center for a checkup. Duang was busy with her mother so I got to take care of Peelawat while we waited and waited and waited some more. Peelawat and his father had taken her to the center earlier in the morning. They then drove the truck to our home so that we could drive them all back to Tahsang Village before we returned home with the truck. The son-in-law had borrowed the truck in order to take one of the 93 cousins to the hospital because "she was crazy". As is so typical here in Isaan, you don't go to the doctor or hospital alone. In the case of the cousin, two babies and four adults accompanied her on her visit. Apparently she got additional medicine for her epilepsy. She sometimes behaves weirdly which I am certain has nothing to do with her epilepsy. I might suggest that these behaviors warrant some therapy but everyone including she were happy at getting the medicine to control seizures. In Isaan, if you have a truck, you are often called upon to provide taxi and ambulance service for the extended family. Sometimes you might even get some gas money!



While I was taking care of Peelawt during our 3 hour wait for Duang's mother to be finished at the Regional Center, Peelawat put on a show. He held his bottle of water and was able to place it in and out of his mouth with one hand to drink for the first time. After drinking some water he would take the bottle out his mouth, and look at me with a big toothless grin bordering on laughing and twinkling eyes as if to say "Hey look what I can do!" This suggested to me that perhaps he had a sense of humor. His next behavior convinced me that he definitely has a sense of humor - even at 7 months. He would take his bottle and bite down on the nipple with his gums as hard as he could. He would then pull the nipple out of his mouth making a loud popping sound as the nipple snapped out like an elastic. Peelawat would keep this routine going for 4 or 5 sequences with each sequence interrupted by a huge toothless grin with drool dripping from his chin. He was grinning ear to ear as if he was taking pride in his "joke". Peelawat enjoyed the hospital, much more than me, and entertained himself looking at everyone and everything. He did not cry during the entire three hours.

Duang's mother is apparently fine. The chest rattling and all consuming cough that she has had for the past 3 years that I have known her is due to "too much sun and too much rain". I am learning something new everyday. Something new, but I am not sure that it is always true.

When we were back in Tahsang Village we sat outside socializing with the villagers and relatives. The village dogs all started to bark, more than usual, as a pick up truck roamed slowly through the village. The back of the pick up truck had a large wire enclosure built over it. Inside amongst the many baskets and debris inside the cage, I saw many dogs packed in the cage. The dogs seemed rather forlorn and not just due to their physical state. These were not some one's pets. These were village and Wat dogs. Dogs that are accustomed to fending for themselves. I had a pretty good idea what this was all about but I asked Duang anyhow.

She told me that the man went around picking up problem dogs. The Lao Loum people of Isaan villages live with dogs. The dogs are more tolerated than cared for or considered as members of the family. Small children may play with a dog some what but the term "It's a dog's life" seems to apply to Isaan. The dogs hang around and scrounge for what food they can get from their "masters". Many dogs hang around the Wats where food is more available and the Monks are certain to not persecute them. From my understanding from Duang, is that this man goes around and buys dogs that are a "problem". He then sells the dogs to be eaten by some people. I don't know of any dog markets in Udonthani but I have been told with some disdain that some markets in Sakon Nakhon Province do sell dog meat. Now I have an idea where they get it from - no ranch, farm or feed lot. Just as interstingly, I was assured that the people who ate dogs were Central Thai people or Lao Thoeng (Upland Lao) or Lao Soung (High Lao) but not Lao Loum. I often write and a theme that I try to maintain is how much people are so much alike. Here is another example. Every where that I have travelled I have encountered some type of bias against some ethnic group or certain peoples. The names of the victims changes from country to country and region to region but the sin of Pride that motivates it is constant.

We are better than them because they ...

Someone Bought the Book

A YEAR IN THAI...

The Beginning of a ...

By Allen A. Hale

Book Preview

Today I was checking on my first book and was surprised as well as pleased that some one has purchased a copy of "A Year In Thailand, The Beginning of a New Life".

Thank You.

I hope that the book meets your expectations.

My first book which chronicles a very important period in my life while I was working in Thailand. The book captures many of the sights as well as people that I encountered here. I wanted to share as best as I could and ended up with a 160 page 11 inch by 13 inch book that ended up costing more than I had expected. Despite it's cost, I am pleased with it and have a copy here in Thailand and I have sent copies to my parents and one of my aunts.

I am currently working on a second book which will be a compilation of photographs and narratives related to living in Isaan. It will focus on the Lao Loum people, their culture, and my experiences with both. Recognizing the perhaps prohibitive cost of the first book I am targeting the next book to be 200 pages 10 inches by 8 inches and sell for $61.95 + S&H.

The creation of the second book is going well, and I anticipate that it will be available within the next two months.