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Anne has created a list on the Quick Facts page detailing how we’ve spent our different nights on the road. I got a kick out of reviewing the many different ways we’ve found rest throughout the trip and realized we’ve become flexible enough to handle almost any situation. Upon our departure last August, we were a normal, spoiled American family. Each kid was accustomed to his/her own bed and in the case of the big boys their own room. During our first two weeks I had an enlightening and humbling conversation with a man I met in church in New Zealand. He was thrilled by what we were doing and explained that he had tried to give his kids as much travel experience as possible on a limited budget. “We would pile all the kids (somewhere between four and six) into a van and drive somewhere in New Zealand for a week or two.” On these trips they couldn’t afford hotels but were all “happy to sleep in the van.” For the Andrus family that was unimaginable. At that time if you put us in a van, you would need to replace “happy” with “infuriated” and “sleep” with “all night leg wrestle.” However it was only a month later that we would be sleeping in a minivan outside the Australia Zoo.

We’re still not what I would call roughing it, but we’ve gotten much better at settling down and sharing a bed, a train, or an inflatable mattress. When our travel agent in India “forgot” to get us a hotel in Mumbai, our only option was to put the whole family in one double bed in a $130 hotel room. So we did. On the days when we were moving quickly through South Africa and striking camp early in the morning, all six of us slept in a 4-person tent. Many places we stay there are only three single beds or one double and one single bed. No problem. In no time three of us will be snoring and the other three will be enjoying their comparatively silent sleep. Of course this often means an extended check-in process at hotels or pensions as we try to convince them we can fit in one room (often a budgetary necessity). “It really isn’t that bad,” we explain. Most of the time we get our way, but as we’ve inched towards western countries, they sometimes get us with things like “fire-codes” and “hotel rules.”

Regardless of how small our rooms or tents have been we try to keep things in perspective. There are plenty of people around the world who sleep in far smaller spaces in far less comfort. When we arrived in India, we were shocked by how the children slept. Together 35 kids and four teachers shared six to eight woven plastic mats on a tile floor. They happily slept on the first floor while the six of us shared four single beds upstairs…at least during our first few nights we shared the four beds. Though it was winter, the temperature was still in the 90’s during the day and still stifling at night. The first night we had air conditioning, but the water running down the wall from the aircon unit didn’t bode well. By the second afternoon, it had given up the ghost and we were left to endure the night time heat the Indian way, with a ceiling fan. The kids and teachers on the first floor had a functional air conditioner, but they chose not to use it, claiming it gave the children breathing problems and really wasn’t necessary. Sticky, sweaty heat and tile floors are not the the ingredients for a good night’s sleep, but the kids and teachers had no complaints. After our third night of sleeping in pools of sweat, limbs sprawled and tongues extended as if we were dogs in a sauna, the kids moved to a thin blanket on the hard tile floor in order to be directly under the fan. If our kids are good judges, then beds and sheets don’t enhance one’s sleep as much as circulating air does.

When talking about our sleep, my size leads me to ramble about space. Anne would argue that space is not the big determining factor for how well we sleep at night. For her cleanliness, or at least a semblance of cleanliness, is paramount. She loved camping for this reason. She always knew our stuff–tent, mattress, sleeping bag–was clean. For nights of questionable hygiene, we have sleep sacks. These little silk or polyester sleeping bag liners have been lifesavers for us. Anne is small enough she turns hers into a chrysalis and emerges each morning unblemished by dodgy sheets and pillows. The kids have also been known to take their sacks out in situations where they would like to hide. They crawl inside and before you know it they are in a state of bliss. These sacks are what get us through situations like “the diarrhea motel” in Thailand, the “roach train” in Vietnam, and the many nights we slept with the lights on in an attempt to keep the bugs that come out in the dark from crawling into Anne’s mouth.

Whether it is a lack of space, bugs, or putrid smells, our family’s ability to sleep in diverse locations has changed radically on this trip. This was never an intention of ours, but it is an interesting and useful life skill that should serve us well and prepare us for many future adventures. I think I hear Antarctica calling.

Technorati Tags: india, sleepingbags, Round-the-world, RTW, sleep, Sleepsacks, tent

After the bombings on New Year’s Eve, Thailand is a different country. It’s not that people here feel unsafe or that everyday life has changed. It’s just that as in the case of any act of terrorism, the government has been forced to raise its guard. The nascent post-coup government, whose rule the bombers may well have been protesting, now has to work hard to appear in control. With many parts of the country still under marital law (instituted three years ago) and over 1900 dead in the insurgency-ridden south last year, this is no easy task. Now that unrest has manifested in Bangkok, additional security measures have been instituted. Unfortunately for us, a casualty of the crackdown was the cross-border train service to Malaysia.

Of course, we discovered this the hard way, or I should say, Tom and Asher discovered it. The dynamic that we’ve established dictates that Tom is the errand man and I am the keeper of the everchanging domicile. This means that he shops for snacks, books, gadgets, shoes, and any other necessary items and journeys to bus and train stations to purchase tickets, while I find hotels and take care of laundry, schoolbooks, backpacks and all the miscellany that spews out of them every time we move into a new place. Now if you know me, you probably commiserate with poor Tom; rarely can he accomplish his tasks without incurring some sort of questioning from me. “Are you sure that’s the best one?” “Was that really the lowest price?” “Wasn’t there another bus the same day?” It’s not fair and I should stop, especially since I don’t particularly want to run the errands myself, but we all have our weaknesses right? I’m working on it.

While in Chiang Mai, Tom and Asher, who was in need of an outing, went to the train station to buy our tickets for from Bangkok to Penang, Malaysia. He knew the train number and departure time, but even so the agent, who spoke limited English, told him there were no tickets available. He called me to verify the details and attempt to figure out what had gone wrong. Could they really be sold out? That didn’t seem to be the problem. For some reason the system wouldn’t let the agent book us to Malaysia after January 10. Our travel date was to be January 13. I told Tom that everything in print and online showed the train number I had given him. Finally, after three different agents and a phone call, he learned that cross-border train travel had been cancelled in the wake of the bombings. I jumped online to check flights to Malaysia, so maybe we could still take the train from there to Singapore (we were looking forward to the train—it’s really nice). The fares had skyrocketed and I panicked. I checked the fares to Singapore and they were still cheap, so I booked…fast….before the airline decided to raise them as well.

We ended up taking the train from the Lao border to Bangkok, our chosen destination for celebrating Kieran’s 7th birthday and the pickup point for our Indian visas. We noticed some subtle changes in the city. Upon our arrival the train station was heavily guarded by police (or military–I’m never sure). The river, which was right outside our hotel windows, was being patrolled by additional security boats. MBK, our favorite mall and the site of Kieran’s Asian birthday extravaganza–McDonald’s, bowling, video games, and a movie–is now searching taxis and trucks for bombs and warning guests they may be searched by security personnel as well. None of this phases or frightens us. It’s part of the new world we all inhabit.

We’re sorry we’ll miss Malaysia this time around, but are eager to move on to India, our new home for the next seven weeks. It seems hard to believe we’ve been gone almost five months, and spent almost four of them in China and Southeast Asia. India will be a new chapter in our travels and almost certainly a shock to our systems, which have grown accustomed to life on this side of the Bay of Bengal. Stay tuned to see what happens…

Technorati Tags: Bangkok, Family Travel, Round the World, Round-the-world, RTW, Safety, Terrorism, Thailand, Train travel

This will not come as a surprise to my coworkers in Pasadena who get dragged to the restaurant Saladang every time I am in town, or the people in Atlanta who end up at one of a handful of Thai restaurants such as Tamarind or Nan, but I love Thai food! There is a lot to love about Thai food–the noodles, the meat dishes, the curries. They all tickle the palate with a robust variety of flavors and the combination of dishes between appetizers and dessert can be a magical experience. With a rich history of consuming Thai food and a memorable visit in 2003, I was excited to get back to Thailand and eat some more. What I was not expecting was the added benefit of coming from places like Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam.

In the other Southeast Asian countries we had to watch what we ate. I mentioned that we didn’t buy much off the street in an effort to keep our stomachs in top working condition. We knew that things would be better in Thailand when only 5 minutes after crossing the border, we passed a truck filled with pork that had been quartered and sealed in plastic, putting it beyond the reach of air, flies, and other bacteria-forming agents. In previous countries pork had either been alive or carved into pieces and left resting on a vendor’s stand in the sun. When we got to Bangkok, we noticed the street vendors used plastic gloves when handling food, another big improvement, since we had seen plenty of hawkers wipe their noses, take out the trash, and use the bathroom before serving customers. The biggest change we noticed was that the street vendors washed their dishes in buckets of hot water with…..soap! While we didn’t throw all caution to the wind, we did agree that street food and local restaurants were now on the menu.

Eating street food or meals in local markets came with an additional benefit. In China, Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos, we limited ourselves to eating in restaurants. These were inexpensive ranging between $15 and $25 per meal for all 6 of us. Each day we ate one or two of these meals and bought snacks at grocery or convenience stores. When we moved to street food, we started paying local prices. We were now able to gorge with 8-9 entrees, an appetizer or 2, and individual drinks–no sharing–for $6-7. Each street stall makes its own specialty such as fried chicken, bbq pork, papaya salad, or bugs. In the market there are small restaurants who will make your dishes to order. These short order chefs are astute and quickly make multiple dishes. Anne and the little kids are big fans of Pad See Eew. Mac and Dax are connoisseurs of fried rice and I pretty much try anything. Some of my favorites are pork knuckle in cinnamon and anise brown sauce, peppers and chicken, and any kind of spring roll. In Thailand my stomach began to expand as I was once again able to indulge in healthier portions and a greater variety of foods. I was not ready, though, for the amount of food I was going to eat in Chaing Khong.

At the little border town between Thailand and Laos, we found a cheap hotel, ($12 for 2 rooms) and struck out find a place to have dinner. We had heard rave reviews about a Mexican place on the river. I checked it out, but their $5-7 per entree seemed grossly overpriced compared to the local food. Down the road we found a barbeque place. It was packed with Thais: packed with tourists doesn’t equal good, but packed with locals usually means great. At each table a charcoal pot sat below a dome-shaped grill where you cooked your own dishes. To my delight, it was an all you can eat ($2.50 for adults, $1.25 for kids). We piled a few plates full of meat and sat down to cook and eat. Anne and I quickly realized we had a problem. Kieran and Asher were too little to handle their own food so we would had to cook theirs first before we could secure our own sustenance. We tried a number of meats, including jellyfish and Thai spam. After tasting many we honed in on a couple that were our favorites–sesame beef and chicken in a light sauce were the big winners. We piled more plates with these two meats and began cooking again. This time Anne and I were looking forward to eating more than we gave away, but the little two just kept eating. A third time I went back and piled plates high with meat. This time Kieran and Asher were done. One of the problems with them being “done” is they are really done, not just with eating but with dinner. They started to wander and get themselves in trouble, so Anne grabbed a few more bites and herded them off to the hotel, leaving hers, Kieran’s, and Asher’s plates half full. The big boys and I decided this was our opportunity to eat unhindered. We went back with a fourth set of plates and then a fifth. The big boys hit their limit and I was starting to feel the strain on my belt as well. We were not very far into our fifth plates when the boys, who are still small dogs compared to their father, wanted to go join their siblings and mother. I let them go while I waited around for the bill. The bill came and there was a little bit of a problem. Apparently the sign on the buffet says something to the effect of you will be charged 100 baht (~$3) for every hundred grams of food you leave on your plates. The numbers, “100″ and “100″ were the only things I could understand. I don’t like to be surprised with hidden fees, and looking around at the half full plates, I imagined this would put a serious dent in the day’s budget. I told the waitress to wait a little while before weighing the damage and I got to work. It took me another 20-30 minutes but between a few pieces of meat on the floor, a few more pieces hidden in the soup and sauce bowls, and a vision of Takeru Kobayashi, I ate until I cleared the plates. I called the waitress over, paid the bill, and triumphantly waddled home.

Technorati Tags: Chiang Mai, food, hawker, street food, street vendors

At home I’m a midget. Well, not a midget exactly, but a small person. At 5′2″ and a less than triple digit weight, I struggle to find adult clothing small enough for my frame. If you were to pull up behind my kid-hauling Yukon XL, you might think a child or a phantom was driving, because my head doesn’t clear the top of the seat. I’m all good with my height these days, but as a child, things were tough. One of the most popular songs in my elementary school was “Short People.” You remember the one…”Short people got no reason to live…Don’t want no short people round here.” Trying to build me up, my sweet mother told me to respond to the constant barrage of “You’re short” comments with “I’m not short. I’m petite.” It wasn’t until I took French in fourth grade that I realized what that meant.

After I reached an adult height, I married a big man. Not a giant, but a tall, strong guy. For many years, Tom lived the charmed life of the all-star athlete and was praised for his significant stature. From an early age, he could reach the top shelf of the fridge, ride the rollercoasters at amusement parks, and dunk a basketball. While he’s too big for a few sportscars in the States, everything there seems well-suited for people his size. The bigger the better is the American rule of thumb.

Ever since we hit China, the tables have turned. People in Asia are little. Motorbikes are little. Doorways are little. Portions are little. Living spaces are little. Tom argues that after twenty years of a steady food supply, the Vietnamese, Cambodians and Laotians will get taller, as did the Japanese after World War II. For the time being, however, I fit right in. Tom can’t find clothes big enough here, while I wear a Medium instead of my usual Extra-Small. In a land of cramped buses, songtaos, and tuktuks, my ability to curl into a small ball is a highly valuable survival skill. No matter how hard Tom tries to , he remains a large square. I clear my head when I climb in and out of a vehicle, while he invariably scrapes his skull. I slide through rows of motorbikes while he is forced to walk around. I slip by touts unnoticed while he commands their attention by his sheer presence. I enjoy my meals from the stability and comfort of my plastic stool or chair, while he collapses his. Poor Tom. It’s tough to be big in Asia.

While in Chiang Mai, we visited the Mae Ping Elephant Camp. Kieran had been waiting to ride the big beasts ever since we got to Southeast Asia, so he was really excited. He wasn’t disappointed by Mae Ping. The elephants there are trained to have people ride them and do shows. In the shows, they perform tricks, play music, paint pictures, and even dance. Each elephant has a personal trainer called a mahout. The mahout works with the elephant his entire life. If the mahout dies before the elephant, then his son or another relative who has also worked with the elephant might take over for him.

It made sense that when it was time for the Andrus family to ride the elephants, we got to ride a father and a mother who had her baby attached by a rope. You can see everything we did in the comic below. Enjoy!
Click on the pages to make them bigger!

Technorati Tags: Animals, Chiang Mai, Comic, Elephants, ox cart, Round the world, RTW, Thailand

King Bhumibol Rama IX, king of Thailand: the world’s longest serving monarch, the hero of the Thai people. Before we came to Thailand, I didn’t even know he existed. Now I know he is the center of the Thai universe.

The first time I saw the king’s image was on the money (he’s on every bill of Thai currency). It didn’t mean anything to me then. Coming out of China and Vietnam where all the bills have pictures of Mao and Ho Chi Minh, I just thought he was another past dictator. Soon I found I was wrong. We stepped on the bus to Bangkok and of course there was a tapestry with the king’s face on it. It still didn’t mean anything to me; pictures of Ho Chi Minh are on many public things in Vietnam. We got into a cab after our bus ride and there was a picture of the king hanging on the rear view mirror. After that I started seeing the king everywhere. In every restaurant and hotel there is a picture of the king hanging somewhere. Everywhere were there is a Thai national flag flying, there is also the royal flag. In the malls there area huge photos of him watching over the shoppers. In the bus stations, in the houses, and in the parks. This surprised me because of the recent coup in Thailand. Through all of the political upheaval, the people have remained devoted to their king, and their king alone. They adore him. In movie theaters before every movie there is a brief film that plays during which you MUST stand up, pay your respects to His Majesty, and watch images from the 70s of the king working to benefit Thailand. The main attraction to the country right now is even motivated by love for the king. The Royal Flora Expo in Chiang Mai is a giant complex housing flowers from all over the world in honor of the king’s 80th birthday. Many foreign countries even built their own gardens to show their respect for the king. This is were I started to get annoyed. I know the people love him, but it seems they are putting him on the same level as a god (they even put pictures of him next to the Buddha in their temples). Twice a day a call goes out over loudspeakers and all people must stand at attention while a tribute to the king plays. I mean it’s fine that they like him so much and all, but is it really necessary to do all this? At Thai bookstores all five of the best sellers are books documenting the king’s life and works. I’m sick of it. The King is everywhere, and the king is everything. Maybe it’s like my dad says, being brought up in a country that threw off the shackles of monarchy has created a dislike for kings in me. (Oddly enough the king himself was born in the United States). I’m sure the king is a great man. He has won the respect of all his people and served them for over 60 years. I just don’t want to have to stand up at another movie theatre or listen to any more tributes.

Technorati Tags: King Rama IX, Thai monarchy, Thai coup

There’s nothing like being where the action is….except when the action is bombing. We were all set to head out to Chiang Mai’s New Year’s Eve celebrations when Tom found this little ditty on the CNN cite. In case you don’t want to read it, the bottom line is this: a series of bombs exploded tonight in Bangkok so all the public festivities have been cancelled. Officially the big event in Chiang Mai has been cancelled as well, but our neighbors who just returned from the city center said there are still thousands of people out in the streets shopping and lighting lanterns. Our friend Lauren whom we met in Halong Bay, Vietnam is staying closer to the action and reported the same thing. Though Tom was really hankering for a party, parental discretion dictated that we stay home and away from any potential explosions. So when the clock strikes midnight in less than an hour, we’ll be drinking slurpees and watching thousands of lanterns fill the sky from the relative safety of our balcony.

So all grandparents, friends, and concerned parties can rest easy. The Andrus children are safe tonight…Just don’t ask their parents why Bogota, Colombia crept into the itinerary today.

(The instructions for the photo were to look sad. Kieran took things to the next level and feigned a tantrum.)

Technorati Tags: Bangkok Bombings, Family travel, New Year’s Eve, Chiang Mai, Round the world, Round-the-world, RTW

One of our days in Bangkok, the headline in the International Herald Tribune read “Thai official appeals for global action on the dollar.” What international action you might ask from your ocean- or continental-induced isolation? Well, it seems that the value of a dollar has dropped so precipitously over the past year that small economies around the world are struggling as a result. Now, I’m no student of economics, so those of you who are must forgive me. I slogged through one Microeconomics course in college, but nothing I learned can help me get my head around the relationship between exchange rates, trade imbalances, and economic growth. In a nutshell, the dollar’s in the toilet, which for me, means my current travels are much more expensive than they have been in the past. Inflation aside, travelling through Thailand today costs me 11% more than it did in summer 2003 and 8% more than it would have in January of this year. I’m not going to Western Europe because the Euro had gained 32% on the dollar since I was last there in the summer of 2000.

Tom and the newspapers tell me that President Bush favors a weak dollar and has purposely driven its value down in world markets so that our American exports will be cheaper to the rest of the world. If we can sell more of our stuff abroad, the low dollar will help offset a small fraction of our gargantuan trade deficit (Americans it seems have an insatiable appetite for cheap Chinese goods). The US gets particularly mad at China for doing the same thing–keeping the value of its currency, the yuan, artificially low in order to fuel its export market. The problem for Southeast Asian economies is that the weak dollar means a strong local currency, which makes foreign investment less attractive. The problem for Americans is the dollar seems to have slipped beyond the government’s expectations and can’t be resuscitated. As an American traveling side by side with Europeans, Canadians, and Aussies, all of whose currencies have gained serious traction against the dollar, I can only shrug my shoulders as daily they seem to spend less and I seem to spend more.

I don’t know whether a puny dollar will actually benefit the US in the long run, but it sure makes us feel like economic weaklings in the travel world. Darn.

Technorati Tags: Baht, Dollar, Exchange Rates, Trade Deficit, Thailand