Hua Hinderances - Mountain Biking

Aaaand I’m back. To add to my list of extreme sports in Thailand (as if ziplining, elephant riding and scuba diving weren’t enough) I finally attempted mountain biking. My scuba friend Natalie was headed to Hua Hin with the Bangkok Biking Club, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.


Although people tend to assume I’m pretty fit, I’m not much of a land animal when it comes to athletics, so the heat and the unfamiliar muscle-strain of uphill biking proved to be a humbling experience. Not to mention that we began our biking expedition Saturday without more than three or four hours sleep.

Why? Well I spent Friday night sipping a German beer with Natalie and her co-workers, then attended a friend’s birthday on the Chao Phraya river. The birthday boy knew the owner of Kanabnam, a seafood restaurant on the water and we had the place to ourselves after closing. After an eventful night of free-flowing seafood and Heineken, I felt less than prepared for my morning of mountain biking. I felt even more nervous after glancing at the biking gear sported by the bikers around me before kick-off.

The people around me were wearing padded shorts, camelbacks filled with water and spandex biker jerseys, while I had little more than a tank top and a purse. With the gracious help of some generous friends and acquaintances I managed to scrounge almost all the necessary gear (I told the man who lent me some padded shorts that he “saved my ass, literally”).


The Saturday ride was full of literal and figurative bumps in the road, including a thorn-induced flat tire, several scary slides down the mountain, and a few wrong turns on the trail, but it was so much fun. Everyone looked out for each other, and I was never left behind. I had moments when my heart jumped as I skidded down a sandy bit on the mountain, but seeing others tackle rough patches ahead of me boosted my assurance. “A lot of mountain biking is in your head,” Natalie explained, “if you tell yourself you’re not going to make it over that rock, then you won’t.” This proved to be absolutely essential advice; when it comes to mountain biking, confidence is everything (although said confidence wavered a bit when we passed someone with a bloody nose or some other injury).

I’m not sure I’m going to become a mountain biking aficionado, but I enjoyed it enough to subject my behind to another round of torture on Sunday. I’m no marathon runner, and I never will be, but I acknowledge that there’s something deeply satisfying about endurance sports. Perhaps it’s because there’s nothing quite like hunger after burning 1,500 calories. I never enjoyed a tuna sandwich so much in my life.

As for school, it’s been going well in spite of class cancellations and the typical chaos. Satit Kaset was swept up by “Sports Day” for the past month of so, and the preparation was quite meticulous, expensive and time consuming. The students made elaborate costumes and dances in celebration of their team color—I was, for some cruel reason, on the “Pinkalicious” team. I competed in a faculty Chairball game, and actually had a blast. They put me as the goalie because of my height, and I made a few solid saves, much to my student’s delight. I also got to spend some time just hanging out with my students, as you can see in this video (me talking to my 5th grade girls):

Singapore Sling

Thanks to Her Majesty the Queen of Thailand’s illustrious day of birth, I was blessed with a four-day weekend, and aimed to take advantage of it by going abroad again. A couple months ago my co-worker Sarah and I decided to travel somewhere spontaneous, a place that would provide contrast. Our first thought: Singapore.


Singapore certainly provided a fresh experience, with clean air, trash-free sidewalks, and a scrupulously designed transportation system. I’d heard mixed things about this city before I arrived; some loved Singapore’s immaculate efficiency, others found it bordered on sterility. It certainly lacked the intrepid grittiness of a place like Thailand, where motorbike drivers define their own traffic laws, people set off fireworks wherever they see fit, and elephants roam the road. In contrast, the first thing I was warned about in Singapore was not to jaywalk, or even walk outside of the white lines.


Singapore is a new city-state, therefore struggles to define its identity, ethnicity and culture. Of course, it's still populated with people, therefore has developed a distinctive personality. Thanks to Sarah’s cousin, who has lived in Singapore for ten years, we got prime insight into the soul of the city.

My weekend was a swanky experience that surpassed both my life in Thailand and even my considerably cleaner life back the USA. Sarah’s uncle welcomed us with a glass of Chilean wine, and encouraged us to explore the futuristic shopping malls that lined Orchard road. That evening, her cousin took us on a whirlwind tour, and we moved through the meticulously constructed circulatory system of the underground railways and tunnels that connected the city. Above ground we soaked up the bright lights, architecturally innovative buildings and the glimmering waters of the Singapore River, which we overlooked during a delicious seafood dinner. On top of some delicious tofu and noodle dishes, we ordered a famous (and incredibly messy) Singaporean dish called chili crab.



The next day Sarah and I found a haven of affordable eats in a food court at the bottom of Ion Mall, where we enjoyed a mix of Indonesian, Vietnamese and Malaysian cuisine. Then we ventured to Sentosa, a part of the city that featured everything from a tram, to a manmade beach, to an amusement park. Sentosa was a perfect encapsulation of Singapore: a carefully created version of what an ideal city should be, but with constant reminders of the industry and painstaking labor required to maintain our urban creations. Siloso beach had blue waters, swaying palm trees and white sand, all the elements of a perfect beach, but with an endless series of tankers and industrial boats visible floating beyond the manmade islands that lined the coast.


That evening we hit the town with a couple fellow American teachers also visiting from Thailand. We managed to hit quite a few key locations in one night. We began our evening in Clarke Quay, a well-known promenade of clubs and bars, including “Clinic.” At Clinic all the waiters wore nurses outfits, and our (extremely overpriced) alcohol was served in an IV. Our subsequent destinations were buildings converted into clubs: Chimes was formerly a church, and St. James Power Station was previously a power plant. Beers ranged from 12-17 dollars, and most clubs had a 15 dollar cover charge, so the warnings I’d received about the prices were confirmed that evening.

The costly stereotypes didn’t necessarily extend to food, however. The next evening Sarah’s cousin took us to the first place with a somewhat local vibe. Newton’s Center was packed with rows of delicious local foods, including Chai Tow Kway (a stir-fried yam, egg and carrot cake), Char Kway Teow (fried noodles with Chinese sausage), Po Piah (a light spring roll stuffed with veggies, peanuts and shrimp) and Barbecue Stingray covered in sambal sauce (my absolute favorite dish).

Our final evening was spent with her cousin and his Singaporean friends, in a bar called White Rabbit. After some delicious Bloody Mary shots (which are chased with a tomato dipped in balsamic vinegar), we went to a local-favorite called Zouk. This club was divided into three rooms, but we spent most of our time in Velvet Underground, which featured funky live music and a more ambient vibe than the main Zouk dance room.



We were up and ready to go early Sunday morning, and I returned to Bangkok still ruminating about my stimulating stay. Singapore was a playground for the elite, a theme park that blurred the line between flawless and reality, but not without a cost. While I marveled at it as a tribute to human innovation, I would find living in Singapore difficult for several reasons. In my core, I would choose culture over cleanliness any day, and I can almost feel Singapore’s desperation to create some semblance of tradition and justification for national pride. What is excellence without a history? And while I greatly appreciated the efficiency of this sleek metropolis (especially compared to the occasionally incompetent methods in which Thais handle transportation, bureaucracy and planning), I would eventually be bothered by the knowledge that I was being monitored by video cameras 24/7. For this weekend, however, it was nice to indulge in feeling like a cocktail-sipping professional. A vacation is more than a change of location, it’s a holiday from my sweaty but familiar life as Teecha Rochelle.