Today was another long border crossing day. We didn’t have to go from Krabi to the border all in one day, but let me explain the alternatives. One alternative would have been to stay in Hat Yai or the Thai border town of Sungai Kolok tonight and cross the border tomorrow, but both places have reputations as seedy prostitute-filled towns catering to Malaysian and Singaporean men looking for some action. We could have stayed elsewhere on the route between Krabi and Sungai Kolok, such as Yala. Yala, however, is the epicenter of violence that has engulfed several southern Thai provinces. Every few days, the Bangkok Post reports bombings in the south. The bombing campaign is being carried out by southern separatists. Although there is much pubic discussion on the possibility and consequences of giving the south some degree of autonomy, the separatists have continued their bombings. So with the option of staying in a hooker town where hotels charge by the hour, staying in a region with several bombings a week, or embarking on a long travel day, the choice was somewhat easy.
           I don’t think we’ve ever woken up past six on a border crossing day and today was no different. By seven, we were in a van on our way to Malaysia. The only funny thing to report about were these two British college students. One was in the back row with us and one was in the middle row, when we stopped and our driver jumped out real quick to run an errand or something. The guy next to me said to his mate, “James, can you let me out, I gotta piss.†James, apparently, replied, “Uh, I don’t think this is a stop.†I’m not sure why the guy James didn’t move his chair for his buddy, but the dude next to me went ballistic: “James! I don’t give a f#@&! You don’t know how desperate I am!†He proceeded to climb over the seats, open the door, and run to a field where he relieved himself. I don’t know why I found it so funny, whether it was his elfish face, his bipolar outburst, or his British accent, but it was pretty entertaining. In Hat Yai, we discovered we had to switch vans, which was an unpleasant surprise considering we assumed the bus was direct to the border. We never assume, which is why Joylani said we’ve lost our edge after traveling with my parents. We did have to stop at about 10 different military checkpoints on the highway and once even had to show our passports, but the military presence did add a sense of security to our drive through terrorist land. We finally did arrive at the border at around 3:30. Luckily, the border crossing was perhaps the easiest land-border-crossing we’ve had yet.
							
In the last few weeks, bbq chicken sticks and sticky rice have risen to the top of my most desired foods lists. Matt and I first got into these when we spent a few days in Kanchanaburi. The chicken lady parked her stall right on the main road outside of our guesthouse in front of the 7-11. Initially the inviting aroma started my craving, but after my first bite, the delicious flavor kept me going back each day to buy more for either lunch or a pre-dinner snack. The chewy texture of the glutinous sticky rice is a perfect compliment to tender, marinated and grilled to perfection—not too dry, but a little crispy on the edges. Tonight I poured a bag of brownish-red chili sauce on my chicken stick and was delighted by the tangy sweet flavor which was reminiscent of A-1 sauce with a Thai twist—the addition of fiery chilies. I’m not tough enough to actually eat the chilies, after pouring the sauce over my chicken I flicked off all the red peppers and white seeds, but they had been in the sauce long enough to impart that sensational not spicy but more like “ahhhhâ€â€”a fiery burning sort of sensation into the flavor of the sauce. Basically, it was one of the greatest things I’ve ever tasted.