Back in the early 1990′s, I made a trip to Thailand to visit my father’s relatives.  It was the first time I was back since I was 6 years old when I came for a 2 week visit.  All I had remembered was the heat, the humidity and the rain as we were there in rainy season.  This time, I was there in the beautiful month of September and the air was much drier.   I had recently relocated to Hong Kong to join MTV-Asia as one of their first VJ’s for their new satellite channel on Star TV.  Being just 2 hours flying time away was too irresistible and within a month I was there.

My uncle Janjai, the third eldest, but clearly the leader of the family, decided that I must go see the north of the country and so we set off in a small beat up BMW with 2 of my other  my uncles on a week-long road trip to the northern city of Chiang Mai from busy, bustling Bangkok.  Not speaking any Thai, I had no idea where they were taking me, only that it was to see the country of my roots.

Our first day included stopping in and seeing the great temples and ruins along the way.  I especially remember Ayutthaya, with it’s many beautiful Buddhas and temple ruins.

Lunch was at a roadside restaurant beside a river under a canopy of trees.  Simple yet beautiful.  My Uncle said that this river ran through the entire country and on to Vietnam.   The rice server stood by us with a silver serving bowl and heaped serving after serving of lovely hot steaming jasmine rice to cool the flames of the red hot chili peppers.  I remember saying to myself, “I will never forget this moment as my senses are so alive.  My mouth as on fire!”  It’s no wonder Thailand is a Buddhist country.  I never felt so “in the present moment.”  You could say that chili peppers are a meditation device.

We reached the small town of Phitsanulouk by early evening.  The town is almost exactly halfway between Bangkok and Chiang Mai.   The skies were turning dark and we were hungry.  We checked into a reasonable hotel and ventured out looking for something to eat.

In the center of the town was a large open air restaurant.  It spanned across the street and on either side were tables with customer and waiters running back and forth.  All were ordering variations of the same thing:  Flying Morning Glory.  What the heck is that?  And just then a waiter took a tray and ran up a ramp to the top of a tractor trailer where large English words were emblazoned: “Flying Morning Glory.”

The waiter yelled out something like “Ready!”  The cook standing street-side with a roaring flame and huge wok, scooped up a bunch of green vegetables and flung them across the street above our heads to the waiter high on the top of the truck.  The waiter caught the goods and came running down the ramp to the serve another customer the specialty, hot, fresh and recently airborne.  Flying Morning Glory.

Recently, I went out to dinner with my Dad and my son in Queens, New York where there is a pocket of authentic Thai restaurants and groceries.  This is nowhere near as abundant as Los Angeles, but there are some tasty places.    We went to the now “discovered,” Sripraphai Restaurant, which even boasts Zagat ratings and a large crowd of mostly non-Thais.  My Dad spoke a few words in Thai and somehow we were whisked past the crowds and seated in a large spacious dining room.  When I first came to this restaurant back in the late 90’s, there was only one tiny storefront with plastic chairs and tablecloths.  Now, almost a decade and a half later, there’s 3 storefronts with modern decor, wine list and even a garden.  We quickly ordered and I asked for the “pad pak boong fai deng”  which is listed as “Thai Watercress” on the menu.

And suddenly…I was transported back to the roadside table in Phitsanulouk with the flying morning glory.

I wrote music for this theater production of an original play by Matthew Maguire.  It opens this weekend in NYC at the Lion Theater on Theater Row.  An outbreak is spreading and scientists are racing to save the world whilst dealing with their own troubled relationships.  The play is smart, witty, fast and very disconcerting. What’s scary is how plausible this is!

Here’s an excerpt of the music from it.

I created this track as part of the soundtrack for the new production of the theatrical play (as in no singing – this is the play that Mozart was inspired by from a French writer named Beaumarchais) opening on November 9, 2011 at Fordham University’s Mainstage at Pope Auditorium, Lincoln Center, NYC.

Dims the roar
a hush through the leaves
a flock of blackbirds
water dripping from eaves

So lovely the morn
beautifully bright
under my boots
cruncy and light

The blood of the earth is moving
Queensland is flooded
Rio beneath the waves
Medellin sops up lakes
Left at her door

The blood of the earth is seeking
Renewal, rebirth
the universal solvent
receding by 2012

trial and error
feeling in the dark
tapping along quietly
straining for the ping back
tunnel of my vision

Sweet action
amber courage
a liquid confidence arises
and a murmur of the soul

Through the charity of our fathers
German brewmasters of note
We achieve a measure of equality
a sense of clarity
a touching of reality

A negation of the feelings
a nail sticking out
to be pounded down

An oddball diamond
waiting to be found
glinting and shiny
On the shores of eternity

A gift from strangers
left at our door
4 of us huffing
on Christmas morn
To raise her three flights of stairs
Three flights of stairs

“Just wood and screws,
strings and nails?”
my son peers inside
Seeking the source of the sounds
Source of the sounds

We polish her skin
blow out the dust
And then the doctor walks in
His black bag at his side

After much pulling,
poking, pushing and a groan
A great rumble has transformed
into sweet, sweet song
sweet, sweet song

She is hot
lively and bouncing
jovial and bumping
thumping to the stomp of our feet

She is graceful
dignified and stately
refined and flowing
loosing her melodies now

The doctor is paid
and she seems better
no longer so hungry
my happy 88

She is dark-skinned and lovely
her white teeth are shining
her ebony gleams
and oh how lovely
oh how lovely my lovely 88

- by Andrew Ingkavet ©2011

A few years ago, I had a sense that perhaps we should preserve and capture one of “Abuelita’s” signature recipes.  So armed with a basic point and shoot digital camera (a Fuji FinePix F20) I shot and edited this film Empanadas Antioquenas (in iMovie) and now it’s gone past tens of thousands of views on YouTube.  Beatriz has become everyone’s mother and Abuelita. I still need to add English subtitles, but you can pretty much follow along even without knowing Spanish.

In Loving Memory of Beatriz Valencia Agudelo

May 31, 1940 – December 22, 2010

A slow ritual pour
A steam covered glass
A dance of the ages
A division of class

The finest tea
A harvest by the poor
a blend of roasted rice
from the farmer next door

Sorted, dried, cut,
packed and shipped
to this gleaming lobby
where I now sit

greeted by white liveried chauffeurs|
served most delicate petit fours

they pocket a portion
for their own celebration
a royal event
in their government flat
a private temporary end
as runner, coolie and rat

by Andrew Ingkavet © 2011