7 years ago today, one of the largest events happened in our personal history. Just over a mile away from my apartment in downtown NYC, the skyline, city and the people of NY were permanently altered.

The smell of smoke was everywhere - the fire didn’t go out for months. The smell was… chemical. Plastic-like. Un-natural. Have you ever shorted out electronics? If I close my eyes and think about it, I can still smell it. Some nights the the smoke was so thick outside my window, other nights the wind would shift direction and you’d smell the sea. Cars still were not allowed back in the city. I decided that, while I’d like to stick around and discuss conspiracy theories and politics with my friends, my apartment was unfit to live. Now was the best time to do something I had been thinking about doing for years - go check out Asia.

In October, Pippin and I subletted our apartment, loaded up the car with our cats and belongings and went to stay with his Dad for a few weeks while we prepared for Asia. I had really wanted to see Thailand (loved the food and the few Thais I met before) and Japan. Pippin was game for anything. We flew out on December 25, 2001 with a flight on British Airways to Bangkok with a layover in Europe.

We arrived in Bangkok two weeks later and, to tell you the truth, all I wanted to do was turn around and get back on the plane. I hated it. The air quality was terrible (I was trying to escape bad air remember?), the sidewalks were un-walkable, it was hot, dirty, hectic. People harassed us everywhere. We decided to get the hell out of Bangkok and flew down to Koh Samui. Needless to say, a week later I was scuba diving off Koh Tao and thus began my love affair with this country.

The most common retort against privacy advocates — by those in favor of ID checks, cameras, databases, data mining and other wholesale surveillance measures — is this line: “If you aren’t doing anything wrong, what do you have to hide?”

Some clever answers: “If I’m not doing anything wrong, then you have no cause to watch me.” “Because the government gets to define what’s wrong, and they keep changing the definition.” “Because you might do something wrong with my information.” My problem with quips like these — as right as they are — is that they accept the premise that privacy is about hiding a wrong. It’s not. Privacy is an inherent human right, and a requirement for maintaining the human condition with dignity and respect.

Two proverbs say it best: Quis custodiet custodes ipsos? (”Who watches the watchers?”) and “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Cardinal Richelieu understood the value of surveillance when he famously said, “If one would give me six lines written by the hand of the most honest man, I would find something in them to have him hanged.” Watch someone long enough, and you’ll find something to arrest — or just blackmail — with. Privacy is important because without it, surveillance information will be abused: to peep, to sell to marketers and to spy on political enemies — whoever they happen to be at the time.

Privacy protects us from abuses by those in power, even if we’re doing nothing wrong at the time of surveillance.

We do nothing wrong when we make love or go to the bathroom. We are not deliberately hiding anything when we seek out private places for reflection or conversation. We keep private journals, sing in the privacy of the shower, and write letters to secret lovers and then burn them. Privacy is a basic human need.

A future in which privacy would face constant assault was so alien to the framers of the Constitution that it never occurred to them to call out privacy as an explicit right. Privacy was inherent to the nobility of their being and their cause. Of course being watched in your own home was unreasonable. Watching at all was an act so unseemly as to be inconceivable among gentlemen in their day. You watched convicted criminals, not free citizens. You ruled your own home. It’s intrinsic to the concept of liberty.

For if we are observed in all matters, we are constantly under threat of correction, judgment, criticism, even plagiarism of our own uniqueness. We become children, fettered under watchful eyes, constantly fearful that — either now or in the uncertain future — patterns we leave behind will be brought back to implicate us, by whatever authority has now become focused upon our once-private and innocent acts. We lose our individuality, because everything we do is observable and recordable.

How many of us have paused during conversation in the past four-and-a-half years, suddenly aware that we might be eavesdropped on? Probably it was a phone conversation, although maybe it was an e-mail or instant-message exchange or a conversation in a public place. Maybe the topic was terrorism, or politics, or Islam. We stop suddenly, momentarily afraid that our words might be taken out of context, then we laugh at our paranoia and go on. But our demeanor has changed, and our words are subtly altered.

This is the loss of freedom we face when our privacy is taken from us. This is life in former East Germany, or life in Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. And it’s our future as we allow an ever-intrusive eye into our personal, private lives.

Too many wrongly characterize the debate as “security versus privacy.” The real choice is liberty versus control. Tyranny, whether it arises under threat of foreign physical attack or under constant domestic authoritative scrutiny, is still tyranny. Liberty requires security without intrusion, security plus privacy. Widespread police surveillance is the very definition of a police state. And that’s why we should champion privacy even when we have nothing to hide.

- - -
Bruce Schneier is the CTO of Counterpane Internet Security and the author of Beyond Fear: Thinking Sensibly About Security in an Uncertain World.

Here are the key things which I noticed:

Me, Myself and I
There’s a very strong sense of me here. What do I want, what do I think. And everyone will let you know their opinions.

Complain, complain
Americans are really good at complaining. I think we’re the best at it, we could win awards. One thing I’ve noticed over the years - if you complain about something, the negativity expressed will make you feel worse, not better. I know many people would argue about this, but try it out first.

For example, the couple next to me on the plane complained from takeoff to landing loudly about everything. They made the flight attendants and everyone around them uncomfortable. It created a sort of umbrella of negativity around them, which puts people in a bad mood. Thais would have handled it by just brushing things off, and not letting them bother them, or perhaps have made a joke about it.

Lack of ‘Greng Jai’
There is a concept which is foreign to Americans which all Thai people grew up knowing. Imagine thinking about the consequence of everything you say and do before doing or saying it. Think “will this offend/hurt/make this other person uncomfortable?” And then if so, not doing it. Value others in front of yourself. Sounds like a nice concept doesn’t it? Americans don’t do it (me, me, me) and Thais do it way overboard. I think a nice happy medium would be ideal.

More about greng jai here:
http://euanharvey.typepad.com/soidogs/2007/09/kreng-jai.html
http://www.thai-blogs.com/index.php/2006/11/30/thais_are_kreng_jai_people?blog=7
http://thailandgal.blogspot.com/2006/09/terrell-owens-and-kreng-jai.html
http://katswindow.net/2002/03/25/how-is-your-heart/

I’m off to New York tomorrow morning. I’m not looking forward to the 27 hours of travel, but it’ll be nice to see everyone again and get a change of scenery. I’m all packed - my bag weighs 38lbs, 30lbs of that are gifts. If anyone wants to hang out in NYC or Mass let me know.

Congrats to everyone in California who will be married this week…

Oh, and everyone go download the new version of FireFox - it’s getting released today! go download firefox 3!

The sky just opened up as I’m writing this and is now currently dumping rain down on Bangkok. I love the rainy season.

See you all in a few weeks when I return.

Nozomi Shinkansen arriving in Kyoto

I usually cringe when people talk about fusion food, but recently I had a Thai (mis?)interpretation of Bánh Xèo (usually called Vietnamese Pancake or Vietnamese Crêpe in English) at a temple fair in Bangkok. It was served by two ladies who simply called it “khanom buang yuan” (vietnamese pancake). What’s funny is that it was absolutely nothing like it’s Vietnamese cousin, but was really tasty all the same. I liked it so much I went home and made it the next day.

The only thing I changed from their version was to serve the pancake folded once (like in Vietnam) and I added turmeric powder to the dough (Jett’s idea). It’s filled with cooked bean sprouts, fried tofu, pickled radish and chopped peanuts. And topped with ajaat — slightly pickled cucumber salad. It’s like Southern Thailand meets Southern Vietnam!

Bánh Xèo, misinterpreted
Makes two crêpes

• 1/3 cup rice flour
• 1/4 cup water
• 1 egg
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon turmeric powder
• 1/4 cup tofu, cut into strips and fried
• 2 cups bean sprouts, boiled until soft(ish - don’t kill them)
• 1 tablespoon diced chinese pickled radish
• some vegetable oil
• 1 tablespoon chopped roasted peanuts
• 1 cup ajaat

1. Mix the rice flour, water, egg, salt and turmeric in a bowl until smooth. Be careful with the turmeric, it stains really really well.
2. Fry the tofu strips until crispy, about 2-3 minutes on high. Set aside.
3. Boil the bean sprouts until soft, but not dead. About 30 seconds.
4. Chop the Chinese pickled radish (chai bo) into little pieces. If you don’t have chopped peanuts, go ahead and do that too (if you have a mortar and pestle, it’s way easier to use that.
5. Use a large bottomed pan (crepe pan is good) and bring it up to medium high to high heat. Coat the bottom of the pan with a bit of oil. When hot, add 1/2 of the batter and lift the pan — tilt it to coat the bottom. Set it back down and let it cook for about 1 minute, or until the bottom is lightly browned. Flip and add 1/2 of the filling ingredients. Fold in 1/2 and toss on a plate.
6. Repeat once more with the rest of the ingredients.
7. Top with the cucumber salad and chopped peanuts.

If you leave out the pickled radish, make sure to add some salt, as the radish is where most of the salt comes from in this dish. I’m not kidding about the turmeric, if you like your counter tops or don’t want yellow hands for a week - be careful. You can substitute the fried tofu with whatever you want — don’t be afraid to get creative, these market ladies sure weren’t!

Update: I went to another temple fair two nights ago and saw 3(!) vendors with this dish. It’s taking over Bangkok by storm! - April 4, 2008

Here’s the recipe I use for hummus — I’ve made it a few times now and it’s pretty good. And really easy. I can’t find the original site where I got the recipe from, otherwise I’d credit it.

Hummus
Makes 4 cups

• 1 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight
• 1 teaspoon sea salt, divided
• 2 teaspoons garlic cloves, peeled
• 3/4 cup tahini (roasted sesame seed paste)
• 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice, and more to taste (I used lime because I’m in the land of lime)
• paprika (garnish)
• olive oil (garnish)
• some leftover boiled chickpeas (garnish - optional)

1. Soak the chickpeas overnight in water. Make sure you cover them with a lot of water because they’ll triple in size.
2. Rinse the soaked chickpeas well and drain. Put them in a saucepan and cover with plenty of fresh water and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil. Skim off the scum that forms at the beginning, then cover and cook over medium heat for about 1 1/2-2 hours until the chickpeas are very soft. You’ll probably need to keep adding water and skimming the scum off the surface. Allow to cool.
3. When the chickpeas are done, puree the garlic and the rest of the salt in a food processor. Add the tahini and lemon juice and puree until blended. Add 1/2 cup of the chickpea water and process until completely smooth.
4. Fish out the chickpeas and add them to the food processor, but keep the chickpea water. You may want to keep a few aside as garnish for after. Process until well-blended. Thin to desired consistency with the chickpea water. Adjust the seasoning with salt and lemon juice. The hummus can be kept in an airtight container in the fridge, and it’ll last a few days up to a week.
5. Serve sprinkled with paprika and extra virgin olive oil.

Goes great with homemade pita.