Oh, Thai cuisine: complexity in flavor, simplicity in process. The flavors are so vast and so varied that the thought of cooking something so rich, so in-the-mouth dazzling is daunting, to some insurmountable.

It doesn't need to be.

To help us get over this hump, beyond this seeming contradiction, a video. The main character in today's episode of “you can do it, too,” is Dao. She runs a humble little kitchen on the island of Koh Pha Ngan in the Gulf of Thailand and she cooks up a storm — a storm so perfect that we asked her if she would be kind enough to let us film her working her kitchen magic. She agreed.

As you watch the video, you may also recognize Dao as the savior from a recent post about people — some sour, some sweet. She was the sweet one — and, Like Water for Chocolate, her sweetness continually found its way into her cooking.

Together with Dao, you'll learn how to make two of our favorite Thai dishes: Panang Seafood Curry, and Pla Muk Gra Pow (chili-basil squid stir-fry). Before we roll the video, a little secret: if you can get your hands on a few of the key ingredients (becoming more accessible by the day), the rest of this Thai cooking thing becomes easy. Sense the flow and surrender your need for kitchen precision and you will begin to unlock the beauty that is Thai cuisine.

Watch the Video: Into the Kitchen with Dao

Recipes for Two Thai Classic Dishes

Forgive us for the imprecision in the recipes below, but we drafted these from watching Dao at work. As you see in the video, she doesn't measure anything. The idea is to experiment with small amounts until you arrive at the perfect combination.

Dao's Panang Curry

1. Heat a bit of vegetable oil in a frying pan or wok.
2. When the oil is hot, add a spoonful of panang curry paste and a smaller dab of shrimp paste (you can find each of these in little tubs in Asian food stores in the U.S.)
3. Heat the pastes for a minute or so until their essence is released. (Mind it so it doesn't burn.)
4. Add the coconut milk. Start with a small portion, you can add more later to taste and thickness. Stir. Let the mixture simmer and bubble for a few minutes.
5. Add your meat (in this case seafood — or you can use chicken, pork, beef etc.) and stir evenly for a few minutes until the meat is cooked through.
6. Add a teaspoon of palm sugar (substitute brown/raw sugar) and a dash of salt (we tend to use fish sauce instead of salt).
7. If you'd like more sauce, add a bit more coconut milk.
8. Add vegetables (baby corn, non-spicy red pepper) and thinly scissor-sliced kaffir lime leaves (the magic ingredient!).
9. Add a little water if mixture is too thick, or if the pan is too dry.
10. Cook and turn for a few more minutes until everything is cooked through.

Dao's Chili Basil Squid Stir-Fry

1. Heat a bit of vegetable oil in a frying pan or wok.
2. When hot, add finely chopped garlic and hot chili peppers (the small, deadly kind). Note: if small and deadly isn't your thing, cut the amount of peppers back, remove the seeds, or skip the peppers altogether (no fun!).
3. Add the chopped squid (or chicken, fish, shrimp, or pork if you like) and stir fry for several minutes until the meat is cooked through.
4. Add a few dashes of soy sauce and a small sweet onion and pepper cut into thin strips.
5. Add a teaspoon of palm sugar (again, substitute a little brown/raw sugar) and a dash of salt.
6. Sprinkle a little oyster sauce (teaspoon or two) into the mixture.
7. Stir well and let cook for a few minutes.
8. Add a bunch of Thai basil (or holy basil). This stuff is truly amazing.
9. If necessary, add a bit of water during the cooking process to prevent sticking and to thin the sauce.

Serve both dishes over your favorite plain white rice (we recommend jasmine rice) and enjoy.

A Note on Eating Well in Tourist Areas

Late last year when we retreated to Haad Yao beach on the northern side of Koh Pha Ngan in the Gulf of Thailand for a return visit, we noticed that the area had seen even more development since our previous visit in 2007. At first we were disappointed by the Thai food options. Many restaurants muted their dishes in spice and flavor in favor of what they believe foreigners prefer. Then we found Dao at her little road-side restaurant with a simple chalkboard menu of classic Thai dishes. We chatted, asked questions. She was up for making just about anything.

This was easily some of the best, high-value Thai food around. Each dish cost 60 BHT ($2).

We ate at Dao's almost every day (we don't even know the name of her restaurant, if it even has one) and never tired of her cooking. If you visit and show some interest, she'll even make off-menu dishes from Isan, the area in northern Thailand where she comes from originally. Her fish larb with sticky rice was fabulous.

Next Thai Cooking Challenge

We're on Koh Samui (the island next door to Koh Pha Ngan) for a few more days and one of our friends has offered to take us into her kitchen to learn how to cook some more Thai food.

Which Thai dishes would you like to learn how to make?

The post Two Thai Classics, Six Minutes: A Video Recipe from an Island Kitchen appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Early last week, I was about to write about fears and the process of facing up to them. I would talk about traveling to places that once frightened me, meeting and interacting with large groups of new people, and jumping out of airplanes. Then, I would channel all those fears known and met through a more recent apprehension I'd tackled: riding a motorbike.

I would ride off into the sunset and deliver a life lesson about what a great feeling it is to overcome fears, to do something that scares you.

And then I crashed.

Fear, A Living Definition

I’m inclined to believe we all have fears, regardless of whether and how we choose to approach them.

Fear is defined as: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain.

That pain can be physical or emotional. It can even be a dissatisfying combination of both. Fear is a protective instinct that can be used productively, particularly when coupled with accurate perceptions of risk.

It can also prevent us from doing new things, from moving forward.

The Motorbike Looms

In the world over, and in Southeast Asia in particular, everyone seems to be on a motorbike. There's something about one that appears relatively innocuous, suggesting that riding it will be fairly straightforward and if you take it easy and pay attention, you should be fine.

Guys ride ‘em, gals ride ‘em, kids ride ‘em. I believe I even saw a coconut-plucking monkey riding one the other day.

But in all our visits to Southeast Asia (i.e., motorbike territory), we resisted renting one. We fashioned elaborate excuses; we rationalized our way out by saying that we preferred to walk or take public transport, despite the inconvenience. In retrospect, we denied ourselves opportunities, access, exploration, and experiences that a motorbike would have enabled.

So why did we fear driving a motorbike?

Part of the fear was bodily injury, but I believe the larger fear was one of not being able to handle it properly. I imagined wobbling all over the place, looking foolish, and then possibly having that foolishness translate into injury.

Then we spent some time on the island of Koh Samui at a friend’s house. And unless we wished to starve, we’d have to learn how to ride. (There’s nothing like the threat of going hungry to motivate you do to something you really don’t want to do.)

So we did.

I took a brief lesson. It was surprisingly easy, perhaps too easy. As I moved, my apprehension quickly faded. I wouldn’t say it was replaced with unassailable confidence, but surely confident I was. I was getting the hang of it, I was giving others rides on the back. And because we had our own wheels, we were seeing and experiencing things we otherwise wouldn’t.

I had begun to think how silly we were for putting off renting one for so long.

But much like flying a plane, the greatest challenge of handling a motorbike is less about the grace with which you get it to move and more about the elegance with which you get it to stop.

The Crash

In a matter of about a second, I learned that lesson rather painfully.

I was on a friend’s motorbike when a pickup truck barreled around the corner of a jungle road in my direction. The driver cut the turn short. In response, I applied the brakes (back brakes, there were less than I'd hoped; front brakes, there were plenty).

Skid, then twist, then fall, then wipe up the road with chunks of my flesh. Then blood, then adrenaline.

I bounced right up, more concerned for the condition of my friend’s bike than for my own body. And for as much pain as my left shoulder, elbow, hip and knee would be in during the days that followed, it was my ego that morning that was bruised the worst. I felt stupid.

It’s funny the nonsense that runs through your head when you are standing bloodied over a piece of machinery that you literally just ran into the ground.

The Postmortem, Facing Fears

I was very lucky that things didn’t end up much, much worse. I limped, but had no broken bones. With the help of a friend who was an EMT, I have been nursing my wounds and bringing my limbs back to health, cleaning and bandaging daily, wrapping in plastic wrap before getting into the shower.

All the road rash and scars – on this island alone – stand testament to the fact that the fear of motorbikes and motorcycles is relevant and real. When I walked through town bandaged, people nodded in understanding: “Ahhh, Samui tattoo.”

Audrey’s mom captured the concern best when, as she considered a best friend who’d lost a husband years ago to a motorcycle accident, she said over the phone: “You know, I don’t like motorcycles. And I don’t like the thought of you on one.”

We also have friends who have injured themselves riding one, who have decided never to ride again.

Why Face Your Fears?

Wow, what a great story. You had this fear. You faced up to it. Then it kicked you in the ass. So what’s your point?

Bad outcomes experienced while facing up to your fears do not automatically validate inertia and retreat.

Doing new things and failing is how we learn. It’s also how we gain experience.

So I reflected and I made a deliberate decision.

My reflection: I don’t regret getting on a motorbike in the first place. I also realize that going down again is a distinct possibility, one that I will do my best to avoid.

My decision: to get back on. I drove on Monday. The bumps in the road vibrated through a sore elbow, but I get around to do the things I need to do.

I do not advocate everyone hopping on a motorbike. It's for some, and not for others. I do, however, advocate acknowledging your fears — whatever your personal motorbike is — by taking a close look at the things that frighten you, and figuring out whether you can press the edges of your apprehension.

Facing your fears may not only enable you to get from where you are to someplace more satisfying, but the process itself may also transform you.

So go ahead, get on the fear. Give it a ride. Go slowly. Pay attention to things around you. Anticipate.

And especially when something bad happens, understand that bad things can happen independent of whether or not you’ve chosen to do something you fear. But just as you consider those bad things, give some airtime to the good things — to the opportunities, experience and enlightenment that your courage helped expose.

The post Facing Fears, Wiping Out, and Getting Up Again appeared first on Uncornered Market.

For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

We often share stories of ordinary people who humble us by showing resilience and kindness in the face of challenges. In doing so, we highlight the positive — so much so that you might be thinking: “Do these guys only run into good people on their travels? Is the world really like that? Are all people around the world really that good?”

Not always. Sometimes you meet people who grind you to the edge.

And then, you must find your way back.

In the Lion’s Den

From the moment we met the woman running our guest house at Haad Yao beach on Koh Pha Ngan island in Thailand, we felt like an inconvenience. Her uncle owned the resort and it seemed as though whenever her office had customers in it, her face would find itself caught in a tug-of-war between anger and disgust.

When I encounter someone who takes to life with such a negative tack, I can’t help but think: “Maybe she’s had a rough day or perhaps even a rough life.” Or in this case, “Maybe she just can’t bear the weight of her privilege, her family’s success, her good fortune.”

Towards the end of our stay, the internet went out. After six hours and exhausting all possibilities that it might be due to something we had done, I decided to pay a visit to the office. Maybe she could help.

“The internet doesn’t seem to be working,” I tried. Uncertainty is diplomatic, right?

“It works for everyone else. You the problem.”

The conversation continued like this for the next ten minutes, until I decided that even the world’s highest bandwidth connection wouldn't be worth a shower of excuses and abuse.

Audrey’s Turn

I often joke that Audrey is the one we send out to meet and greet people. If you’ve ever met her, maybe you’ll understand the sentiment. Regardless of where I stand on the affability continuum, she’s easily a few clicks further in the direction of the smiley face.

The next morning, the internet was still down. “I’m not sure whose day it is today, but I know it’s your turn to deal with this.” Maybe Audrey could be today’s magic dust.

We walked into the office. I hovered by the door.

“Hello,” Audrey tried to break the ice while petting the dog.

I have to tell you there is no misery like that drawn on the woman’s face.

“The internet is not working today. Is it possible to call someone to check on it?” Audrey asked.

“Sometimes it doesn’t work. You leave Tuesday. It won’t work before then.”

Then a deluge of excuses: “My brother is on the other side of the island. He was at the restaurant until 4 AM. Auntie is at the temple.”

“Internet is not included. You get for free. You Americans. You come here because it’s cheap. You should go back home.”

She was like one of those automated tennis ball machines.

I tried to help: “We don’t mean disrespect. We just asked about the internet. And now you are yelling at us. I don’t understand.”

Audrey made one last attempt to extract something productive from the conversation: “Can we have the password for the other network?”

“You can use it there,” she pointed to the next room.

Then she yelled at Audrey, “Get out. I don’t want to see your face.”

Stepping Back and Reflecting

We emerged feeling a little agitated. Puzzled, too.

Justifications and rationalizations circulated between us about how something as insignificant as internet access could have precipitated such anger.

There's the situational: this is a tourist area and she probably has to deal with her share of tourists – not all of them pleasant and respectful — day in and day out.

The linguistic: she doesn’t possess the range of English vocabulary to explain herself fully; worse yet, we don’t speak her language.

And finally, the cultural: confrontation in Asian cultures is a no-no, saving face is the goal.

But then I stopped.

Sure, all those things might be valid. But they don’t excuse how she behaved. We’ve known countless interactions saddled with similar challenges that never yielded disrespect or venom. In fact, it’s heartening how pleasant most of our interactions are on the road.

And to think, this was something as insignificant as a problematic internet connection. Heaven forbid it had been something serious.

When we encounter someone like this, our approach: let it roll off our backs so as to not let the anger seep in and then extricate ourselves from the situation as quickly as possible.

Then we move on.

The Flip Side: Kindness Without an Angle

Later that day, we took a stroll up the street to our favorite little restaurant, a makeshift kitchen in a thatch hut with a few tables outside. Not only was it the best Thai food around, but the woman who served it up: sweetness incarnate. Her kindness was like sunshine, so broad you sometimes wondered what you’d done to deserve it.

And to the skeptical, her kindness was not just because she runs a restaurant and wants our money. We’ve been on the road long enough to recognize perfunctory and strategic kindness, the sort that spills out as a method of doing business.

Nope. Hers was a kindness without an angle.

She emerged from the kitchen, apron on, and gave us a big smile and a warm “Hello!!”

Damn, I wanted to give her a big hug. The warmth of her greeting brought us home for the moment — no matter how far away from home we might have been.

We savored that moment, and in that moment, we relished the simplicity of being with kind people.

And it’s for them, I’d like to believe, the world turns.

The post The Yin and Yang of Koh Pha Ngan (Or, Yes Virginia, There Really Are People Who Suck) appeared first on Uncornered Market.

During our most recent visit to Bangkok, tanks full of flesh-eating fish hungry for dead skin were all the rage.

Sound like fun? We thought so.

Watch the video below to find out.

Fish Spa Video: A Dip in a Pool of Flesh-Eating Doctor Fish

So what kind of fish are these? When we asked the woman at the spa, she said “Hungry.”

Further research tells us they are Garra Rufa Fish, also referred to as Doctor Fish. (When I was a kid, my pediatrician was named Dr. Fish, but that's a whole ‘nother story.)

If you think that having the surface of your feet feasted on by schools of flesh eating fish sounds like fun, here's some practical advice to maximize your fish spa experience:

1) Go solo: This may sound selfish, but try to keep the tank to yourself. More feet and limbs in there at once means less fish attention on you.

2) Go early: As the day wears on, the fish lose their appetites as they fill up on the flesh of other clients' feet. Try to get your limbs into the tank in the morning when the fish and their appetites are at their peak. (If anyone knows of a spa where the fish remain unfed for days, please send details.)

3) Spread your toes: OK, this may be more information than you really wanted. Spread your toes apart and the fish will love it…as will you.

Cost: A cheap thrill for the bucket list. The spa where we took a dip is located across from Phra Sumen Fort on Phra Athit Road near the Chao Phraya River in Bangkok. 15 minutes in the tank costs 150 BHT ($5) with $1.75 for each additional 5 minutes.

In case you are ever considering opening a fish spa of your own, think about the business model: you don't really need to feed the fish. You can rely on your clients' flesh to do that for you.

The post In Bangkok, My Feet Are Fish Food appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Sunday was one of those days when misfortunes were set aloft and misdeeds adrift.

That is, in Bangkok at least.

It was Loi Krathong, a Thai holiday where young and old come out in force. They send their wrongdoings afloat on colorfully adorned lotus leaf rafts down the Chao Praya River and they fire up paper lanterns to carry their misfortunes into the sky.

Then they party like it's 1999.

Loi Krathong Festival: The Frenetic, The Solemn

Evening began, as so many evenings in Bangkok often do, in a crowd. Farangs (foreigners) and Thais ogled boats and barges drowned in neon lights and dancing electronic animals. Strobe lights and fireworks — lit from the boats and the bases of bridges — added additional bling to the nightscape.

Although the crowds and boats gave an impression more casino-worthy than temple pure, the spiritual energy at the edge of the river, on the docks and in the lagoons, was profound. Beyond the bling, families and couples crouched together in prayers, cupping their krathongs one last time before their transgressions were to be symbolically carried away by the river.

Our craft was a rather beautiful, but simple, one of sculpted lotus leaves filled with orchid petals that we purchased from a woman on the street for $1 (the going price for a entry-mid level krathong). We borrowed candles and lit the incense sticks stuck in the center of our krathong. Then we engaged one of the entrepreneurs armed with giant spoon-like oars with strainers at the tip (there's a word for these things, we're certain) to set our raft safely adrift, flame intact — for a small tip.

Beyond the docks, we found an area with steps leading down to a little protected inlet. It was a similar scene, but more subdued, peaceful and deliberate. Some couples read prayers printed out on small pieces of paper before they set free their krathong. Parents guided their children to let theirs go.

Up to the Sky

From the docks and lagoons to the streets where music, food, and crowds took over once again. If you looked up, the the sky was filled with tiny little lights — not stars, or moons or planets — but paper lanterns alight, like hot air balloons slowly making their way skyward until burn out.

All roads in our neighborhood seemed to funnel people to the Rama VIII Bridge. Just about everyone had his hand on a paper lantern. Some couldn't even wait to climb the stairs to the top of the bridge, but set theirs aloft under the bridge — with surprising success. Light, paper and fire, seemingly a sure way to calamity in the midst of mobs. But nothing burned but lights in the sky.

Beautiful. Fun. We watched a few families and groups of friends set off their lanterns and followed suit. Watch the video below to see how we did.

Watch our Video: Lanterns in the Sky – Loi Krathong Festival Thailand

And once those misgivings were released, people took to the streets and partied like rock stars. We asked a local whether the next day was a holiday.

“Holiday? No, tomorrow is a regular work day. But tonight is a festival.”

And this is how Thais party on a school night.

The post Loi Krathong Festival: Troubles Down the River, Lanterns in the Sky appeared first on Uncornered Market.

As we prepare for our departure to Guatemala and secure the various latches on our gear, I'm reminded of being robbed by airport security employees in Bangkok's Suvarnabhumi Airport last year. Fortunately, miraculously – and somewhat shadily – I was reimbursed.

A recent comment from a woman who had money stolen at airport security in Toronto, Canada served as a reality check that this sort of thing can happen anywhere.

In the midst of the initial ordeal, my original story was posted on Thai Visa, an online travel bulletin board. In response, one of the members, lomatopo, followed up with some helpful suggestions to avoid being a victim of theft at an airport security checkpoint.

We thought some of the tips are worth sharing:

1. Do everything possible to avoid a secondary screening; this means do not set off the metal detector. Short of removing metal plates/pacemaker surgically implanted in your body, remove everything metal (glasses, watch, wallet, pen, rings, jewelry, coins, phone, belt, shoes, earrings, piercings well before the security area and stow in a zippered carry-on bag, shoes go in a plastic carrier to go through the X-ray machine.
2. Store valuables in a zippered, carry-on bag.
3. Put the most valuable item on the conveyor belt last and make sure it is going through the machine. I usually go: Shoes, roll-a-board, zippered carry-on, PC.
4. Step through the metal detector quickly and confidently; in the U.S.A. you need to show your boarding card when going through the metal detector so have it in your hands. I hold it with both hands, chest-high.
5. Keep a close eye on the items coming out of the X-ray machine, make eye contact with anyone standing near the X-ray machine, excluding the operator.
6. Even if you are asked for secondary (wand), regardless of whether you triggered the metal detector, gather up your zippered carry-on first, then get the wand.
7. Step aside, re-assemble everything, double-check valuables.

We would also add the following airport safety advice:

1. Provided you aren’t running late to the gate, take a few minutes to prepare your bags before you approach security. People who appear lost or disorganized make ideal targets for thieves. This is the time when you can stuff wallets and valuables in the inside pockets of your bags.
2. Before you enter security, get your bearings, and make a quick note of your surroundings – including who is behind you and in front of you. This sort of body language might communicate “try someone else” to would-be thieves.
3. After going through security and double-checking your belongings, perform another quick scan of your surroundings.

If you feel that you’ve been a victim of a crime, report it immediately and don’t allow employees and security guards to intimidate you or dismiss you lightly. Airport CCTV cameras cover almost every inch of space, so it’s likely that a theft will have been recorded on tape.

Ask to see the tapes, don’t give into your doubts too easily, and – most importantly – don’t give up.

Note: After attempting to contact Airports of Thailand (AOT), the Thai tourism bureau, and The Bangkok Post – all to no avail – you won't be surprised that I shelved the idea of attempting to expose the Bangkok Airport security scam even further.

The post Avoiding Theft at Airport Security appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Perhaps you'd like to know what happened after I was robbed at Bangkok Airport security last month. Well, the saga continued with more “investigations” and a mysterious wire transfer. Transparency is not the first word that comes to mind.

Inconclusive Investigation = Refund?

Two days after the incident, I had a conversation with the security manager – let’s call him Mr. X – from Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport. Mr. X confirmed that the investigation into the theft continued and the results thereof remained unclear.

However, he also indicated that the security company would forward my claim to their insurance company.

“How would you like us to reimburse you?” he asked. Returning to Bangkok was not in our plans, so I suggested a wire transfer to my bank account in the U.S.

While I was pleased by the swiftness of the planned reimbursement, I found this whole scenario curious. If there were any doubts as to the validity of my claim, why would the security company hastily forward it to their insurance broker for payment?

Sketchy Bank Transfer

I calculated an amount that would restore the lost cash to my money belt, taking into account inbound wire transfer fees and ATM withdrawal fees. After a series of SMSs, emails and telephone exchanges regarding these details, I waited. At that point, my goal was to recover the money first and ask questions later. All the while, I was continually told that the ongoing investigations remained “inconclusive.”

Eventually, my bank account reflected an incoming wire transfer in the agreed amount. However, the bank records indicated that the transfer was from Mr. X himself, not from a named corporate account (e.g., the security company or the insurance broker).

Consider this: the investigation was inconclusive, but I had just received a wire transfer from the security manager’s personal account. This struck me as odd.

Looking for Closure

Don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy that my money was returned and I realize that only a tiny percentage of thefts are ever resolved so quickly and so favorably. But there’s the pesky little issue of the fact that I was the victim of a crime. Not only did I want my money back, but I also wanted to know the results of the investigation; I had hoped, perhaps naively, to press charges against the thief.

Think about it. If someone breaks into your home and is subsequently caught, you not only have the right to recover your stolen goods (which in my experience rarely ever happens), but you also have the right to press charges against the person who committed the crime.

In that vein, I emailed Mr. X:

“I would also like to know the findings and outcome of the investigation. Could you please send me a scanned copy of the police report?”

I felt this was a fair request, particularly given that both the duty officer and Mr. X indicated repeatedly that this case would go to the police and that I would be allowed to see the results of the investigation once it concluded.

Mr. X responded:

“With appreciated that you have received the transfer money and then the further process will be with my Insurance Broker Which they said will not interfere you anymore then if any change will update.”

I roughly translated this to mean: “please get off my back so we can sweep this under the rug without drawing any additional attention to the nice little rip-off scam you have uncovered.”

Can you tell that I don’t buy the “one bad apple” theory in this case?

I followed-up by email and SMS:

“I understand that the insurance broker no longer needs my input or information. However, I was the victim of a crime. My request to see a copy of the police report seems a fair and reasonable one.”

After allowing these messages to simmer in Mr. X’s email and SMS inboxes, I followed-up with the duty manager whom I originally dealt with at the airport. In remarkably circular fashion, she suggested I contact Mr. X.

Mr. X never responded. After my follow-ups last week, there’s been nothing but silence.

Leave Well-Enough Alone?

So I have my money. Most people would suggest that I should be satisfied and, in turn, leave well-enough alone. As I indicated in Part 1, however, I’m willing to bet my time and my energy that I’m not the only victim of this scam.

Something also tells me that this story doesn’t end here. Stay tuned.

The post Robbed Redux: Sticky Fingers at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Part 2 appeared first on Uncornered Market.

I was robbed.

It didn't happen at a grungy guest house, in a crowded local market, or down a dark alleyway at night. It happened in Bangkok's shiny new Suvarnabhumi Airport at a gate security checkpoint. Worse yet, the thief was a security employee.

We’ve been on the road for almost 14 months. With the exception of a few dollars worth of local currency shorted from a stack of bills given to us by a bank in Uzbekistan, we’ve remained vigilant and fortunately unthieved…until now.

The Scene of the Crime: Bangkok Airport

We arrived at the Bangkok airport for our flight to Krabi, Thailand almost two hours early. After checking in, we approached our gate with well over an hour to spare. The waiting area was virtually empty and only a few bored security employees milled around the metal detectors.

Because of an exceptionally strict 15-kilogram checked luggage limit enforced by Air Asia, we lumbered towards the security checkpoint at our gate laden with some added carry-on cargo. I pulled off a small backpack and a small side bag and placed them on the conveyor belt. As Audrey was being scanned at the metal detector just ahead of me, I removed my money belt from around my waist and emptied my pockets into a tray headed for the x-ray machine.

I walked through the metal detector and was scanned with a wand. When I turned around, my bags had come out, but the tray was still apparently on the belt inside. This gave me pause. I turned back to see what was happening. As I did, the tray came through. I assembled my stuff. I tugged the money belt around my waist, buckled it, and took a seat.

The Discovery

We sat at the front of the gate with a sparse group waiting to board. Arriving so early for a flight is a rarity for us, so I took the opportunity to sift through my pockets and empty them of the garbage I had collected. I did the same with my money belt.

Three days prior, we made a large ATM withdrawal to cover some new equipment purchases. I remember counting and splitting the money with Audrey the night before the flight, to the tune of eight or nine-thousand Baht ($260-$300) each in 1000 bills. We were exceptionally and unusually laden with cash. I even remembered thinking “my, there’s a lot of [crap] in here” as I struggled twice to tuck the money belt into my pants, once after check-in and again after a ticket check before gate security.

Sitting at the gate, I unzipped the lower pocket of the belt with the intent of sorting through my local currency, confirming my boarding pass was still there, and tossing away some useless receipts which often collect there like navel lint.

I plunged my hand into my money belt and expected to grasp a stack of cash and papers, but I came up relatively empty-handed. My heart sank.

All that remained of a stack of 1000s, 100s, and small change: a few 20 Baht bills and a 50. Each of my large bills was gone, as if surgically removed. I was stunned. “Maybe the money evaporated?” I suggested to myself. No kidding. For a moment I thought of our German magician friend and some of the disappearing acts he's able to negotiate. “Maybe I accidentally dumped the entire stash down the urinal in the men’s bathroom?”

The level of self-doubt I subjected myself to in those brief moments of empty-walleted shock was profound.

I looked at Audrey: “I can’t believe it. I’ve been robbed.” I stood there pitifully, as if some intermediary might hear my plea and suddenly make the money re-appear. He never did.

Fending off another bout of uncertainty, I forced myself back to the last lucid moment between me and the front compartment of my money belt.

“It must have happened at security!” There were only 40 minutes until boarding time to sort this out.

“Do you want me to come with you to security?” Audrey asked. “Of course,” I said, thinking that it would be a good idea in case I fainted. I was flushed and sinking in a sea of urgency and tortured thoughts and emotions. I felt utterly foolish and hung in disbelief.

The feeling of violation that comes after being robbed began to wash over me. I shook with anger, but gathered composure as I walked the few meters back towards security. “But what if I’m wrong?” I wondered again.

I reviewed everything in my head again in a split second and re-affirmed my belief that the money must have been lifted at the security checkpoint.

The Rewind

I explained to one of the security personnel that money was missing from my money belt, purposely trying to avoid making any accusations. Although I remember being alone in line before the x-ray machine, perhaps a rogue traveler had appeared behind me.

Although the security staff’s English was good, the woman I approached could barely understand what I was saying. I deliberately hushed my voice a few notches to compensate for the adrenaline that had poured into my bloodstream. Once the woman understood my circumstances, she insisted that we check all of our bags and pockets as she announced my claim to the rest of the crew.

The security personnel were confident that I had misplaced my money. At least that's how they appeared. Many of them shook their heads in a way that implied “another idiot tourist.” I insisted that my money never left my money belt when I traveled, but I rifled through all of our bags and pockets just to please them.

“Can I see the films?” I asked, pointing to the video cameras monitoring the area. The woman confirmed that I could.

“How much?” she asked. “8000 Baht ($260),” I said. She shrieked, somewhat angrily and in disbelief that I could have been carrying such a wad of money, that it could have been stolen at security and – god forbid – that one of the security employees could have been a witness to the loss, let alone the thief.

We still had time until our flight was scheduled to depart. I was fairly certain that if there were no guilty parties and I had simply lost my money, the tapes would prove the security crew innocent. When the security team realized I was serious about watching the tapes, they took my passport and flight details and started making phone calls.

I began to sweat. I suspect the thief did, too.

The Investigation

I was asked to stand behind the metal detector and stare into two wide-angle video cameras tucked into the corners behind the conveyor belts and metal detectors. Officials sitting in some closed-circuit TV room confirmed my identity in order to locate me in sequence of passengers on the tape. The theft was minutes fresh, so it must have been easy to queue up.

For the next 45 minutes, a sea of uniformed security people entered the gate, huddled in the corner, made phone calls and barely acknowledged us. At one point it appeared as though they were scanning the gate for one of the passengers. Our boarding time approached.

“Why don’t they make a move?!” I anxiously wondered aloud.

Finally, as passengers began boarding the plane, one of the women approached us and explained that she was the duty officer responsible for the security team. She asked me to explain what happened again. As I filled out the claim form, she admitted that they had found a member of the security staff doing something suspicious on the tape. “We have to talk to her,” she said, indicating it was fairly clear who sticky-fingered Sally was.

“This has never happened before,” she offered apologetically.

She cautioned me that they had procedures to follow. “We must make an investigation and get the insurance company involved,” she said, slightly shaken. By the time we completed the claim form, the gate was empty. The entire team of security personnel (likely including the thief) gathered in front of us and watched us as we thanked the duty manager and turned around to board our flight. An odd departure by any measure.

We were the last ones to board the plane. I was exhausted and my thoughts were consumed with the incident. I wondered if I would ever see my money. Even worse, I knew well that this lingering feeling of mistrust would remain with me for some time to come.

Bold, Stupid, or Just a Scam?
Considering that there are security cameras absolutely everywhere these days, stealing at a security checkpoint isn't just bold, it's stupid.

But maybe not. The duty officer claimed that she has never had to deal with this before. “What did she mean by this?” I wondered. She was referring to never having had to face a passenger who discovered a theft at the gate. I wondered how many other travelers have had a few bills stolen from their wallets or money belts, only to later discover the theft and dismiss it as mistaken or insignificant – if they happen to catch it all. I find it almost impossible to believe that I was the very first passenger to walk away from a Bangkok airport security checkpoint a few bills lighter.

It's probable that audacity was supported by something else: coordination. After all, how could one employee manage a theft like this without a fellow security employee not being aware of it? An accomplice eases the process of dividing, conquering and diverting unsuspecting passengers' attention while negotiating a blind spot in the security cameras.

To believe that this was an uncoordinated, one-time incident involving one security employee is not only hard to believe, it's naive. I would bet all my travel money that this is a scam.

I mean, who expects to be robbed at security? I do now. You probably should, too.

Although I usually tuck my money belt and phone deep inside my backpack before entering a security checkpoint, most other people place their wallets and valuables right in the security trays, just as I had done this time. There is an intrinsic trust – however misplaced – that one’s valuables are safe in the hands of security personnel. More critically, we hope and trust that their eyes are on the lookout for sharp metal objects and bomb-making elements. If security employees are scamming my belongings, how can they be paying attention to the security of the airplane we're about to board?

Answer that for yourself. This incident doesn’t make me feel any better about airplane security, something about which I had serious doubts already.

So, next time you go through security at an airport, remember to watch your sharp objects and liquids…and keep your valuables hidden from security employees. Though most are thankfully just doing their jobs to keep us safe, some are obviously on the take.

The Waiting Game

Yesterday we were contacted with confirmation that the investigation concluded, indicating that at least one of the security employees was involved; the insurance company would be engaged. Today, I'm told that although the insurance company was now involved, investigations continued. I have no idea what this means, but I intend to recover my money.

Stay tuned.

The post Robbed! Sticky Fingers at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Early on New Year's Eve, before the festivities began, we dropped by a local cafe in order to perform our annual year-end ritual of reflection and looking forward. Although the specific exercises have evolved, the objective of our ritual remains the same – reflect on the past year and determine themes for the year ahead. Provided that we have the previous year's entries with us, we'll even roughly compare the them to the current year's actual results.

This is admittedly very geeky personal development stuff, but it works for us. We've found that in order to make an idea a reality in our lives, we've had to serve it some diligence by discussing it, planning it, and acting on it. We figure that we either make a process out of it or we rely solely on serendipity and the winds of chance.

Our ritual began on New Year's Eve 2000 at Caffe Trieste in North Beach, San Francisco. That year, we each drafted a list of 20 things we'd hoped to accomplish before we died. Sounds like an easy exercise, doesn't it? Try it out for yourself. The first five or ten items come quickly, but the last few are tough. Still too easy? Compare your list with your long-term partner's list and consider how compatible your hopes and dreams are.

We had already performed a bit of reflection earlier this year, so this time we focused mainly on the year ahead. The result isn't a set of New Year's Resolutions but rather themes or general directions we'd like to re-emphasize, improve upon, or incorporate into our lives in the coming year.

Oh yeah, about the rat. This year, our ritual ended with a large rat peering at Dan from a ledge and running under our table at the cafe. Normally, something like this would be met with disgust, but as the Chinese Year of the Rat is approaching, we figured that maybe it's a good omen instead.

Another cafe goer took in the whole scene as he paid his bill and suggested “A rat. Good luck!”

Like many things in life, it's all in how you choose to look at it.

The post New Year’s Eve: A Ritual and a Rat appeared first on Uncornered Market.

We've often been asked “What's the best food you've had in mainland Southeast Asia?” If forced to choose, we'd opt for an easy way out and vote Thai food as the king of cuisines in the region. And after eating our way through Bangkok, Chiang Mai in northern Thailand, and Krabi in the south, our vote more specifically goes to Krabi.

Krabi offers Thai staples, more spice (if you want it), freshness, variety, semi-exotic but palatable dishes, authenticity and warm smiles – all at staggeringly low prices.

Krabi Food Recommendations: Where to Go and What to Eat

Night market on Maharat Soi 10

Influenced by Malaysian and Muslim curries, the sauces here run electric yellow, orange and red. Choose from pre-prepared but fresh concoctions in metal tubs with combinations of shrimp, squid, fish, pork, beef, or chicken, and an array of vegetables. Southern Thai dry fry curries (without the coconut milk) are also popular here.

After you order, most stands will direct you to one of their dining tables, often outfitted with a condiment tray – loaded with fresh long beans, cucumbers, Asian eggplants and a spicy nam prik dipping sauce – which alone could serve as its own meal. Pitchers of drinking water and cups of ice are provided, gratis. We always drank the water and never had any stomach problems.

A vast selection of curries are on offer here, and extend well beyond the red and green curries you are used to seeing at home or on the tourist trail in Thailand. The best approach is to walk around, find something that looks interesting and ask what's in it. Fortunately, the market is fairly self-contained, so you cannot spend hours wandering and starving while you choose. Here are a few highlights:

• Shrimp with long beans, dry fry curry
• Stingray curry – if you want to breathe fire, this one's for you. Tasty, but bony.
• Morning glory with taro in coconut milk – if you are put off by spice, this is a safe bet. Even better paired with a spicy dish – it serves as a cooling agent.
• Shrimp and sator (stink bean, but don't let the name scare you) dry fry
• Fish cakes – mildly spicy, a good snack to nosh as you begin your search
• Curry fried fish
• Dry fry Panang-style pork curry
• Grilled, skewered squid
• Pad Thai – served with a combination of squid and shrimp
• Spicy green papaya salad – with tomato, papaya, garlic, chili, lime, dried shrimp, and roasted peanuts.
• Endless varieties of tropical fruit, some peeled and packaged with a chili-salt for dabbing and dipping
• Mango and sticky rice – Audrey developed an addiction to this dessert. The Krabi version is even sweeter and tastier than Bangkok's.

Khanom Jeen Soup Stand

On the corner of Soi 6 and Krabi’s main street Khanom Jeen, for us, vies for most outstanding food in all of Southeast Asia, along with its Cambodian sister soup, num banh choc. This particular stall was a taste above the rest for its outstandingly smooth curry broth. The fact that it didn't include any stray mystery bits or chicken feet also scored points.

At a khanom jeen stand, you'll be given a small mound of fresh rice noodles and your choice of a ladle of mild yellow curry fish reduction, sweet peanut-based red soup, or both. Our favorite is a combination of mostly yellow with a dollop of red.

This dish is the ultimate WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) eating experience. The taste is remarkable, simple, and clean. Your body will love you for it.

Oh yeah, the price. 10 baht ($0.30) a bowl, including all you can consume condiments.

Roti

“Muslim Restaurant”, the large, one-room, cafeteria-style hole next to the Vieng Tong hotel may at first appear bleak (flaking wallpaper, half-peeled sticker images of various mosques), but it delivers. This is the real deal. Once you taste roti here, you'll realize that everyone else (on the streets and in restaurants) is only pretending.

Rotis here are to die for – a pounded swirl of flaky bits on the outside and moist dough on the inside. The result, whose preparation and frying is aided with various oils but pounded and dried with a towel, is not the typical greasy squished pancake served on the backpacker trails of Bangkok and Luang Prabang.

Krabi Good Dream

If you're looking for an early evening break on the backpacker trail, try Krabi Good Dream. Standard red and green curries are tasty and substantial. Our favorite was a fusion-twist penne pasta with fried chili basil, shrimp and squid. Arrive in the evening (just before 8:00PM) and enjoy the latest pirated DVD movies in English.

Viva

If you mysteriously tire of the local cuisine, Italian-owned Viva on Pruksa Uthit Road offers authentic, fair-priced Italian food, including a tasty homemade ravioli in mushroom cream sauce.

Krabi Travel Information: Accommodation, Food and Transport

• How to get there: We flew Air Asia from Bangkok to Krabi (about 1 hour). Taxes and fuel surcharges are often the same price as or more than the ticket. We paid around $50 per person for a one-way ticket, including taxes. Watch your stuff at airport security in Bangkok.
• Transport from Krabi airport: Once you arrive at Krabi airport, you have the choice of a taxi (around 360 Baht) or a bus (90 Baht per person). While the bus from the Krabi airport to Krabi town is cheaper per person, it drops you off on Chaofa Road away from the center of town where several men are waiting to “help” you make reservations at over-priced guesthouses where they have connections. If you already have a reservation, they will drop you off – rather begrudgingly – at the guesthouse of your choice, but they will continue their sales pitch for other guesthouses until the end. Don’t be surprised if they feign both hearing loss and short-term memory loss and ask you repeatedly where you are staying. This is a scam – the Krabi taxi scam – and is a direct result of the Krabi taxi mafia’s corrupt grip on the Krabi airport and the government officials who dole out permits to operate there. Our recommendation: find yourself some people to fill a taxi and split the cost. Per person, the cost will be the same as the bus, but you’ll avoid extra time and frustration.
• Where to stay: We were welcomed back to Good Dream Guesthouse by owner Bryan Rilinger. The rooms are still a good deal and an additional wi-fi router/repeater means that all air-con rooms downstairs (450 Baht/$14) now get a strong wi-fi signal. The atmosphere and food are as relaxed and pleasant as ever. Address: 83 Uttarakit Road, email: krabidream@gmail.com, phone: 075 622993
• Where to eat: Krabi knows no shortage of excellent eating options. See above and our previous post, Krabi’s Cheap and Divine Eats.
• What to do: Check out the nearby beaches and enjoy the laid back atmosphere of Krabi town.

The post Krabi’s Cheap and Divine Eats appeared first on Uncornered Market.