Chapter 2, Pt. 1: Bangkok and Southern Thailand

Hello again friendly readers!

Thank you for returning for the second installment of this travel saga in four chapters. If you are tuning in to this blog for the first time, scroll down to the earlier post, "Introduction and Chapter 1", for some orientation. For your reading and viewing pleasure, I have decided to deliver Chapter 2 in two parts. The story commences where we left off: Aiyanna and I, after our cross country drive, flying with Moshe around the globe...


We land in Bangkok to the hustle and bustle of one of the world's biggest and busiest cities. Last time I was in Bangkok, I arrived from India to a city that seemed to sparkle in comparison to the dirt of Delhi; this time, traveling from America, Bangkok's heat and city smog overwhelm me, but Aiyanna and I are excited to be here. Jet lagged, on the other side of the planet, we take to the streets.


Aiyanna's father leads us from our dingy room on Khao San Rd to his favorite part of Bangkok-- China Town. Here he shows us where he gets tingling electro-accupuncture by Chinese doctors while pushing us into his favorite Thai massage parlor: rejuvenating after our long flight.


The markets of Bangkok are full of exotic fruits; everything is in season. Mangosteins sell for 20 baht, or about 80 cents, a kilo. We eat our fill.


Thailand is predominantly, though not exclusively, Buddhist, and the many temples in Bangkok and accross the country host many striking images: shimmering Buddhas, saffron robed monks, and enormous candles burning with blessings.


We are not long in Bangkok. The city is a difficult place to relax, and Aiyanna and Moshe have work to do: a book to read. We head out of Bangkok first class on an overnight sleeper train South to Krabi and the Andaman Coast. None of us being accustomed to first class travel, we felt pampered on the sleeper train as we rolled out of Bangkok, and, as I looked at the people staying along the tracks, observed the poverty outside the window.


Boats remain a crucial mode of transportation in Bangkok and all over Thailand...


...After arriving in Krabi Town we chartered a boat to Railay Beach, which is not accessible by road. The seas were rough as rain poured down on our long-tail driver.


Aiyanna and Moshe grin at the adventure; I trust in the longtail driver while hoping a rogue wave doesn't overturn our small vessel and ruin my camera gear.


Twenty minutes later we land at Railay East, the cliffs looming and beckoning. We hike across the isthmus to Railay West, and then around the cliffs at low tide to Tonsai Bay, our home for the next two weeks.


Mountain View Resort: our bungalow and home sweet mildewing home for the next two weeks. Hot shower? No way. Mosquitoes? Ravenous. 5 dollars a night? We'll take it!


Let me introduce a few of my friends for the next two weeks:
Frogs found by flashlight during the monsoon rains...


Sea slugs in the tidepools...

Giant orb spiders over our heads...

Cats doing battle with enormous stick bugs... and more you will see as you read on!



If you read my blog over my last adventures, you might remember I was in Thailand and Tonsai three years ago. Last time I was at Tonsai I had a birthday and turned 26; this time at Tonsai I turned 29. If it seemed unlikely to me to find myself here for a second birthday, the experience I had at dinner that night was far more serendipitous. Aiyanna and I, while eating a big fish dinner to celebrate, were joined by two other travelers. These two travelers, as it turned out, were also BOTH celebrating their birthdays, and to push the unlikelihood of this 3-way-birthday meeting to even greater levels of incomprehensibility, turns out they were turning 23 and 31, which alongside my 29, made 3 prime numbers!! I was so utterly flabbergasted... a small world scenario to the highest degree.


I furthermore thanked my lucky stars for a full moon and relatively clear skies the night of my birthday; I am indeed a very lucky person, so grateful for everything...


Working on the project that brought us all to Thailand together, here are Aiyanna and Moshe reading and editing the book sunset-beachside...



As a glorious sunset washes the ocean in pinks and purples, a conflict is brewing. In a way, this sunset is symbolic in the story of Aiyanna and Moshe's work. Up to this point, everything was rosy: Moshe was exuberant to be at Tonsai, and he marveled at Aiyanna's writing and enjoyed a book largely about himself. But as the sun set over the bay, so did his good humor, and he became angry with the words he read. He and Aiyanna began to fight over whose stories, whose voices, whose perspectives were allowed within the pages of the book. I looked on with empathy for each, simultaneously immersed and separate from their story.


While they worked and struggled, I used the time to improve my slackline skills...


And tried to get some of my climbing strength back. Here I am fighting my project "Lion King", 6C+ (11d), which was my nemesis through the 2 weeks at Tonsai. It's basically a tall boulder problem with huge jugs, but it's steep, polished, and baking in the sun almost all day long... but still, it's a beauty of a beast, and someday I'll send it without falling.


And here I am flailing through a 7b (12bish) on the Tonsai Wall. After making it through the crux, I was too pumped to finish; alas 7b is a little too hard for me these days.


Aiyanna also had time to learn to climb...


And climb she did! Here she is on a 6a (10a) at the beach, and not pictured is her at the top, grinning.


Hard work, hard play, and lots of time to relax at the beach side bars-- I tell you, life was rough!



Night or day, the karst cliffs plunging into the ocean make for inspiring scenery.


July through September is monsoon season in S.E. Asia.


Watching a monsoon rush in over the ocean, and then observing its ripping power blowing a driving rain sideways, was a pretty awesome thing (when it doesn't catch you off guard at a crag!).


And then, because you can't climb when it's raining sideways, you hide under Chicken Momma's shack and eat a delectable barbeque chicken leg.


Let me introduce you to some more of my friends:
Snail under banana leaf...


Shiny beetle...


Cliff-side monkey...


And snacking tree monkey.



There are some strong climbers congregating in Tonsai. Here Kay, from Sweeden, sends an 8b+ (14b) project.


Opting out of climbing the 8b's, I stuck to 6c's like this bouldery fellow. A nice climb! We did this 6c and then another one that was even better...


The climb went up and around the arrette here. Lucky me I climbed it first, because as Simon tried to go up after me, a huge monsoon came in and nearly blew him off. It was another beautiful storm...




Moshe went back (angrily) to Bangkok, and without the book project to work on during the day, Aiyanna and I took some time to leave Tonsai and wander around Railay. Here is "Happy Island" off of Au Nang beach. Yes, there are climbing routes on Happy Island-- when the tide is out.


She walks in beauty and thoughtfulness...


I boulder in Chacos...


And we make a treacherous mud climb to a lagoon...


It was a vertical drop by a mud-slick rope to the lagoon. Aiyanna opted out, I tried my luck...


I am a muddy animal.


The lagoon was la-great, though I didn't stay too long what with the bird sized mosquitoes and Aiyanna waiting beachside. Some friends of ours had been mud wrestling here the day earlier, although they complained the water made them itch! I thought better to just look.


Here's a good view of the whole area: Railay East on the right, Railay West left, and Tonsai in the distance below the far cliffs... no roads, just water!


Our time at Tonsai running out, we spent our last evening bouldering at the beach. We both felt stronger than when we arrived, and Aiyanna seemed much more confident on the rock. She look quite strong here making a traverse over the sand!


Tonsai is a great place. Sitting back and watching a climber silhouetted by sunset hues, it's no wonder why climbers flock to these cliffs. But the climbing scene has changed Tonsai. What once upon a time 15 years ago was a quiet fishing village is turning into a resort town that attracts far more people each year than its infrastructure (or rather total lack of infrastructure) can handle. Trash-- paper, plastic, and styrofoam, is burned, and the sewage of so many visiting butts creates far more waste than any of the septic systems can handle: a smell is evident from time to time, from place to place. All these issues left me wondering about myself as a traveler and a tourist in Thailand. These questions would follow me as we left Tonsai, returned to Krabi, and eventually headed north. But more of that later...


Krabi Town proved an interesting place to spend a day:

Fresh treats from the market in Krabi town. A handful of hot chili's anyone? No? Maybe some snails then? Still no takers? We also opted out, just looking and not buying these delicacies.


One-thousand two-hundred and thirty-seven stairs to the top of the Tiger Cave Temple. Turns out this stairway is not for the faint of heart! Aiyanna looks at the top, "Seriously? 1,237? OK..."


Too busy gripping the railing and pulling ourselves up the often nearly vertical stairway to count, we just had to take the signs word for it. It felt much longer than I anticipated...


Looking up, we couldn't see the top, but from the top, it was very impressive to see the bottom!




Of course the views of the surrounding karsts of Krabi Province were quite breathtaking-- even more breathtaking than the stairway! Definitely worth the climb. These were our last views of Krabi Province, and the next morning we boarded a bus to Phuket Airport, and then a plane to Chiang Mai in the North of Thailand, where Chapter 2 will resume when I find time again to write.

Thank you for reading everyone! I know this post has been long; there were just a lot of pictures I wanted to show you. There is still a lot more to come from Thailand, and perhaps the best is yet to come in Laos; indeed a wise person once told me that the best is ALWAYS yet to come! May that be true for us all. Love and peace to all.

PS: For more stories of our travels, please read Aiyanna's great blog @ www.birdbeartracks.blogspot.com. She's such a talented writer, I'm sure you will enjoy it also!

Introduction and Chapter 1

Dear Family, Friends, Fellow Travelers, and Assorted Blog Perusers,

I write to you from Muang Sing, small Laos town a single bow shot from the border of China, to tell the story, in 4 Chapters, of some adventures I'm in the midst of. I will apologize now for the mix of present, past, and even future tenses necessary in this writing: the first two chapters have passed and shall appear as quickly as I can produce them, the third chapter I am in the midst of living, and the forth and final chapter, lying a month ahead, I can but now only foreshadow.

I would also like to insert here in my introduction an apology for not commencing these blog posts sooner. I haven't been as enthusiastic in sharing this my second far East adventure as I was my last, and have perhaps thus disappointed those people who so encouraged me to share my photography and thoughts during my first such expedition. The thing is, I felt so fortunate to have had my first trip, that in providing a sequel I cannot help but feel exceedingly guilty for my good luck. Now I realize it is a greater crime to withhold sharing this magnificent experience.

Here's how it happened: my girlfriend, my love, the beautiful Aiyanna and I were gifted two airline tickets to Bangkok, Thailand, from San Fransisco, California, by her eccentric father, Moshe. The reason behind this generous allotment was so he, traveling with us, could have time with Aiyanna to read the book she is writing about him. There in the paradise of a Thailand beach could he see the product of her 8 months labors in a climate comfortable to him; and there in an Eastern setting where her father spent much of his late life could she find a suitable ending for the book of their stories. I got to come out of Aiyanna's gracious asking, and her father's most generous granting, of her request for my presence. Intrepid traveler I am said to be, I was to play the guide of our party.

Careful readers notice: our departure was from California, but Aiyanna and I make our abode at my house in Asheville, North Carolina, so here is the gist of Chapter 1: Aiyanna and I decided to make our way across country by the highway. In short, we took ten days in Aiyanna's green Honda Civic hatchback through Nashville, TN, Boulder, CO, Moab, UT, and Grass Valley, CA, before meeting our flight in San Fran. That, in a longer sense, I will present to you after this introduction.

Chapter 2 commences when the three of us land in Bangkok, Thailand. In the course of this month in Thailand, we survived the air and noise of Kha San Rd, assailed the cliffs of Tonsai (where we parted ways with our disgruntled benefactor Moshe), flew north to Chiang Mai, scooted our way around the lush Pai countryside, and then, with our Thai visas expiring, crossed the Mekong River into Northern Laos.

Thus begins Chapter 3, which while now summarizing, I am yet at the onset of living. In this chapter I will make note of the circumstances of my convalescence from antibiotics necessary for a minor infection which gave rise to the opportunity for relating this posting. Yet to come: treks, river boats, and more of the beautiful easy life provided by this magnificent country. This chapter will likely conclude from Bangkok, where Aiyanna and I will part ways and fly to our respective destinations, journeys to be recounted in the far off Chapter 4.

Chapter 4 will be... something as yet quite unknown, and therefore complete with uncountable possibilities. I know that it will take place for some time on the West Coast, but that it must conclude, with these great adventures, back home in beloved Asheville. I set it down now, dear American family and friends, that should you wish to be involved with the excitement of this final chapter, please do get in touch with me: the fun begins when I touch down September 13th.

Enough of this most verbose introduction! I will from here commence with Chapter 1, which, since it has been outlined above, needs no more prequel. I will tell this story just in pictures, leaving any more necessary explanations to the captions below.

Thanks everyone for your forbearance of my previous silence, and subsequent loquacity. I hope not to disappoint. Love and blessings to each and all; as a wise man once told me, "enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!"


Chapter 1



First stop: Aiyanna's good friend Emma's house in Nashville, TN, with a backyard of home grown garlic drying, and Aiyanna dancing under the porch light, happy to start our good journey.



We approach a storm in Kansas: the thundercloud laid down a wrath of hailstones on poor Toby, Aiyanna's small but trustworthy steed of a Honda Civic.



The Flat Irons: a most welcome sight after the 20 hour drive to Boulder, CO.



Virdin, most sarcastic philosopher of the Furman alma mater, surveys his township below.



Behold the Rockies!



Katie Finn, her precious and precocious pugs Lucius and Igor, Aiyanna's friend Also Katie, at our fantastic 4th of July micro party. I now have a soft spot for pugs, thank you Katie! Not to mention the very comfortable abode: graciously sacrificing your room for Aiyanna and I, I venture yours was the best bed of the whole trip.



Yours truly slip and slides for Forth of July festivities!



At our first free camp outside of Moab: and me without my trad rack!! This was my first time in Moab, and I was a goggle with visions of cracks to be climbed, not to mention slick rock to be mountain biked. Moab, I venture I will return someday better prepared and with longer to stay.



Without said implements of adventure, we "settled" for hiking around Arches National Park, jaws dropping every step of the way. Here is Aiyanna at the Delicate Arch.



And the stupefying Landscape Arch.



As ever on my quest to document all wildlife, as shall be shown in this and subsequent chapters, here is a wee desert Monitor, digging a hole.









Yee with eyes should determine that these are all pictures of arches from Arches. I loved every one!



Hello Canyonlands National Park! (Gosh that's a pretty lady waiving.)



I found these stones here, and heartily agreed with the clicking of my camera.



Sandstone: amazing.











Judge for yourself the resplendent beauty of Canyonlands.




These two are from Dead Horse Point State Park. I can't say much for the name, but the view is great!



Aiyanna flies gracefully across the Bonneville Salt Flats: we're almost to California!



Aiyanna's generous, long-lived, interesting, complex, humorous, outrageous, sagacious, vain, nearly toothless, and many other adjectives I must forgo here, father Moshe, here in Shabbas dress (for he is an ordained rabbi, among so many other things). We stayed as guests at his farm in Grass Valley, CA.


Aiyanna, Moshe, and sister Abra at a lake outside of Grass Valley.


Aiyanna, Moshe, and brother Eli at his house above Berkley looking out over San Francisco. This is the end of one journey, for we flew from San Fran this night, but it's just the beginning, for we landed in Bangkok the next morning.

And here I leave you till the next chapter, which, fear not, I will not outline a second time. Thanks for reading my friends, and I will be grateful for any comments you might have! Much love, and adieu.

Sweet Breakdancing Photos

Good B-Boy break dancers will make your jaw drop.

Before last Saturday night, I'd only ever seen breakdancing briefly in movie clips or on YouTube, but after seeing a live competition and observing the B-Boy culture in person, I feel inspired. The way these dancers move to hip-hop rhythms and simultaneously explode with gymnastic, yogic, strong-man feats of athleticism commands respect and awe. What's more, the breakdance scene is infused with B-Boy culture, a stylistic front that translates to poise and presence in the face of competition— heavy attitude on and off the floor. While the attitude isn't something I'd like to infuse with my life, the B-Boys' ability to match music and movement, their meld of strength and toughness with dance, became that night something I wanted more of in my life.

I guessed with my yoga training that some of the moves would be easy; wrong! While I could find my way into many of the "freezes", moving between them with a rhythm was way hard. Like a fool, I fell all over my living room floor with Girl Talk playing loudly as I tried spinning and jumping like the badass B-Boys I'd just seen. I'm going to keep trying breakdance movement, but in the meantime, I'll maintain a massive respect for the few strong that inspired me.

Props to all the dancers at Saturday night's South East B-Boy Championship who inspired and others, and to the organizers for their work in realizing a vision to promote breakdancing and the hip-hop life. For more info read this informative Mountain Express article by Aiyanna Sezak-Blat. See also this follow-up story with video, here

Any B-Boys who find their picture here please holler at me to get your name under the shot and copies of your image.

just one raspberry
both hollow and not hollow
becomes delicious

Laurel Knob and NC Climbing

The day starts at 5:30 with Jeff’s alarm— too early, too ambitious. He resets it to 6:00, and we go back to sleep.

The day starts again at 6:00. While water boils for coffee, we sort climbing gear: various carabineers, camming devices, nylon runners— all making clinks and jangles as it’s chosen and set in the pile. I get two sixty meter ropes in my pack; Jeff takes the weighty rack. Along with the usual for a day of climbing, I’ve got my camera with its heavy 24-70mm lens and polarizer. With our packs filled, our breakfasts ingested, and coffee savored, we start the long hike in. This glorious, long day is just beginning.

Laurel Knob is a little known destination in Western North Carolina. Its cousin, White Sides Mountain, gets more recognition and traffic with its easier access and choice of hiking trails. Laurel Knob, on the other hand, hides from visitors on private property owned by the Carolina Climbers Coalition (CCC), and requires a solid hour and a half hike in to reach the cliff bottom. And if you want to see the view from Laurel Knob, there’s no hike to the top; it takes traditional, multi-pitch climbing experience and a little thirst for adventure.

Jeff and I make a two man climbing team, and to ascend the enormous slab of granite that’s Laurel Knob, we follow a climbing route called Groover— first climbed by Jeep Gaskin his wife Julia on their honeymoon in 1980. With about 800 feet of climbing, this is one of the South East’s longest routes on the tallest cliff east of the Mississippi. As we trade pitches— alternating lead climbing and belaying— we are alone on the rock. Because of its difficult access, few climbers come here. The climbing is not difficult, but very enjoyable on wonderfully aesthetic rock. Our route follows a crack up and right, and eventually takes us through some interesting water groove formations, the route’s namesakes, further and further from the ground. Somehow amidst hauling up rope and keeping a safe belay, I manage to take some pictures that I hope will tell the story of a beautiful day out.

There’s another story at Laurel Knob though, besides our own individual ascent, and that’s the story you start to see looking out beyond the cliff. Laurel Knob is surrounded by Cashier’s numerous, private, gated developments, and large, opulent houses pock what might otherwise be a rugged wilderness. The long hike in to Laurel Knob— from the Panthertown Valley trail system onto an easy-to-miss, unmarked climber’s trail— is necessary to avoid trespassing on the private land that surrounds it. Laurel Knob would itself be off limits to everyone if not for the hard work of John Myers to secure a deal for the CCC to purchase the 50 acres of land comprising the cliff. The access granted by this epic purchase— $250,000 that was just recently paid off— is the antecedent of about thirty years of secretive, clandestine climbing while the cliff was still off limits.

Our climb was stellar. When we reached the top of our last pitch, looking out and down from high on the cliff, we showed our appreciation and respect for the beauty of this rock with some awe and silence— as well as high fives and smiles. The challenge provided by Laurel Knob was an exceptionally rewarding experience.

For me, climbing is a fantastic way to enter nature. It’s an activity that requires close attention to the moment and provides direct experience with the world around. Personally, I feel fortunate to live in North Carolina, a state where there is an abundance of high quality rock in breathtaking wilderness settings. I am grateful for the likes of the CCC for preserving this particular, unique area for rock climbers to explore, and owe my respect to the climbers who were establishing routes here before I was even born.

It’s my hope that climbing in North Carolina continues to thrive. For this to happen, our growing climbing community must take care of the land we do have access to— minimizing our impact in use areas as if we were still climbing in secret. Sometimes it takes sweat and cooperation, such as the large trail cleanup at Rumbling Bald last fall. And of course, the CCC appreciates financial support via donations and membership dues to help pay off the acquisition of climb sites it protects for local climbers, such as the very popular West Side Boulders of the Rumbling Bald, and to support its cooperative efforts with the Access Fund and government agencies like the Park Service. Go to www.carolinaclimbers.org for more information about this beneficial organization.

To all you non-climber readers who want to test your meddle on North Carolina’s many challenging rock faces, there are a lot of ways to learn. Try your hand at Asheville’s rock gym, Climbmax, with a supportive staff to teach you some skills. Western NC offers some fine guiding services, such as the Appalachian Mountain Institute, that offer a safe, fun, and qualified introduction to the world of outdoor climbing. Selected Climbs in North Carolina, by Yon Lambert and Harrison Shull, is a comprehensive guidebook to most of North Carolina’s best climbing areas, and essential reading for all Carolina climbers.

Jeff and I had a long hike out after our climb, reflectively trudging our three miles back to the car. But pink lady slippers and beautiful trilliums lined the trail, and a memory card full of color photographs waited development— these good things are best appreciated with hard work. At the end of a long day, how fantastic to be completely satisfied.


Jeff hits a steep section following the fifth pitch and trusts his shoes sticky rubber to make the move.



Far bigger than it looks in pictures, Laurel Knob is the tallest cliff east of the Mississippi.



Jeff checks a photocopied route description before embarking on the next pitch.



Blue skies brighten the view as Jeff makes his way with little protection and terrific exposure.



Double rope rappels down Laurel Knob's distinctive water grooves take us back to the ground and finish the climb. Fantastic!

The Cultural Reflection in a Local Toy Store

SPED 620, a class called Education in a Diverse Society, asks teachers to consider the impact of cultural biases in our classrooms. As a part of this discussion, we’re asked to look at possible sources of and reasons for racial and gender inequality. How, in spite of our nation’s growing diversity, do white middle class values achieve dominance in our society? One assignment, which I’ve chosen to present online via my personal blog, asked me to go to a toy store and consider what cultural perspective is dominant.

Toy Box is located on Merrimon Avenue, prime business real estate for North Asheville’s community. The high price of real estate and the overflowing parking lot of the organic Greenlife grocery store both point to a simultaneously wealthy and eco-conscious community. Social conscientiousness is a kind of currency in this neighborhood, and the streets are getting crowded with Toyota Priuses with reusable grocery bags in the passenger seat. I was interested in finding out what the neighborhood toy store could say about this progressive and affluent crowd.

In a toy store, certain cultural values seem to stand out more than others, and most notably we see how the toys reflect gender roles and represent racial diversity. I also wondered if socioeconomic status might be discernable, and I predicted at Toy Box I would see a selection of toys catered towards Asheville’s upper class. All these things became pretty obvious the moment I walked in the door.

Gendered pink and blue sections are obvious when you walk in the door.


First, gender issues: two colors stood out distinctly directly upon entering. Blue and pink; pink and then blue— these colors are still obviously associated with their respective genders and demarcate girls’ and boys’ toys. In the pink sections there were dolls, and in the blue sections action figures and models. This general perspective shows that there are still different kinds of toys for boys and girls, but it doesn’t show that this toy store is reinforcing negative gender roles like Barbie or G.I. Joe. Toy Box is doing much better; there are no Barbies or Bratz Dolls that make women into sex objects, and there aren’t any war toys in the entire store. The dolls, packaged in pink, were Go Go Girls— “healthy lifestyle dolls” dressed in athletic wear— an example of dolls attempting to break down old gender stereotypes. Also in the pink section were dress up outfits: fairy wings, wands, and tutus. Boys, it seems, don’t do dress up.

Taking education classes, one of the more harmful gender stereotypes we’re made aware of is the notion that boys are better at math and science, and girls are more gifted in arts and English. Toy Box had a good supply of educational toys— a commendable effort— but unfortunately the gender roles were represented, and thus reinforced, by many of these educational products. Most notably “The Dangerous Book for Boys” chemistry set, as well as the other science kits, were pretty clearly directed at boys, but the doll making kit, weaving starter set, and coloring books were all clearly directed at girls. It seems rather unfair to fault the toy store for reinforcing this stereotype, but its presence at even a progressive toy store is troubling.

Once again, I wouldn’t like to fault a small local business making efforts to be socially conscious, but, if product packaging is to suggest anything, toys at this store were all for white kids. A significant portion of wall space was devoted to Playmobil toys, and according to the store’s owner this is because Playmobil toys are consistently best sellers. It is certainly noteworthy, therefore, that not a single black or Asian child is on any Playmobil box, and perhaps less than 5% of the figurines available from Playmobil are something other than white. Playmobil sets, if you’re unfamiliar with them, are little models of society— hospitals, fire stations, houses— as well as imaginative fantasy worlds of pirates and pyramids. It seems the real and fantasy worlds of Playmobil, a German company, are not racially diverse, even if the real world is.

A hundred figurines and all the same color: Playmobil fails to represent diversity.


I predicted based on the location of Toy Box that its toys would reflect certain features of the North Asheville demography. Indeed, I found a good bit in the store that affirmed my predictions. Cool toys in the Toy Box weren’t cheap. “Inexpensive” items hovered around ten dollars each, and on the other end of the spectrum were dozens of Playmobil sets from eighty to two-hundred dollars. There was a significant collection of “green” toys also, like “Eco Kids” stainless steal water bottles, “Hand Made and Fair Trade” knitted flying discs, and tea and dinner play sets made from “100% Recycled Plastic.” The store had a wide selection of Plan Toys, a company that promotes itself for its sustainable practices. Wooden parts of their toys come from recycled rubber trees, they use special eco-friendly glue, water soluble dyes, and even have special recycled packaging printed with a soy based dye: all of which, the owner says, allows customers, “to feel better about buying a doll house.” Feeling better about buying a doll house will, however, cost a bit more; unfortunately, like organic groceries, sustainable products are still the privilege of those that can afford it.

I talked to the owner of Toy Box for a bit for a little more information. They have been in business along Merrimon for 22 years. I asked about their efforts to be a socially responsible toy store, and he explained to me in honesty that it was just a better business decision. Toy Box can’t go up against the likes of a Wal-Mart, so they don’t offer the same products: “We give people a choice of what to buy rather than where to buy, and consciously give them a better product.” Indeed, the toy choices Toy Box offers reflect its customers and their values.

To be the reflection
of an image
or
consumer demand
is also to be
its re-creation.

A young man looks
into his mirror
and allows what peers back
to change him—
he grooms,
or despises,
himself by what he sees.

The toy shop
sells
what sells;
what's manufactured by companies
with more research than development who
analyze markets to market—
the toy shop is its market's mirror,
not as it reflects each buyer
but as it reflects to each buyer—
each subtle re-creation
unnoticed.

Observe
the danger
of ignorant manipulation
within the system
of mirror and mirrored.
Watch
the cycle of a reflection
to change one,
many—
be aware
for good
in you.

—EB, 3/9/10