Thai: Mai Pen Rai

No, no, it’s not a boy… Thai is a true romantic sensory overload.  The lights, movement, smells, and ENERGY couldn’t even be captured in this photo of Kaosan Road! 

Our affair began at the airport, blinded by the combination of golden buddhas and the sun setting in the walkway, bombarded by the smell of curry and dusty rain after the jaunty taxi ride with Malc to his uncle’s Thai mansion.  To be honest, I really wanted to hear the deafening trumpet of an elephant while simultaneously stepping off the plane, as my sound track intro to Thailand, but alas… ’tis not what happened. 

I couldn’t stop staring out of the taxi window, closing my mouth when consciousness prompted. There were dogs and cats and people and motorbikes and food stalls EVERYWHERE seemingly in chaotic movement.  I swear I almost saw three accidents involving all of the aforementioned during our two-U-turn drive back and before the taxi driver stopped and demanded 150 Baht–about three US dollars.  We tipped him a little bit, and he went away happy.  Normally, taxi drivers like to drive foreigners to the city, to Kaosan Road (later in the blog), which is at least 700 Baht.

Malc’s Uncle Kevin is a hell of a nice guy.  Ex-pat of almost a decade now and a successful businessman in Thailand, he has a Thai partner, Gup, and her daughter, Pat, both of whom I was glad to meet.  They were so sweet to us the entire time.  Gup had just “caught religion” as Kevin coined it.  She was practicing a very strict sect of Buddhism, and had just gone to India to be a monk, where she chose to shave her head–no small feat for a woman who runs a hair salon in Bangkok.  Kevin warned me that I should not use my honed mosquito killing skills in front of her, and luckily I had brought enough bug spray that without killing them, I was only bitten once in the entire 11 days in Thailand.  I think it could have been karma, but I’m pretty sure it was the brain-damaging DEET in the Japanese “sara sara” bug spray.  (“sara sara” means smooth in Japanese ><)

My first night in Thailand, after dropping my stuff at Kevin’s was my introduction to the Thai chili–oh and ladyboys.  It would interest you to know that chilies are not indigenous to Thai cuisine, but were brought by Latin American explorers some hundreds of years ago.  Ladyboys, however, seem to be indigenous and just as prevalent as the chili in the Thai cuisine.  Our waiter-ess was a very beautiful, red-lipped ladyboy and he brought us delicious curried crab (NOM! soooo much better than  it sounds, I have dreams about it to this day) ostridge meat with chilies, prawns with sweet chili sauce and a whole fish steeped in chili goodness.  I was curious as to just how hot these chilies were (and Malc and Kevin dared me**) so I ate a sliver of a green chili and a red chili about 15 minutes and two beers apart.  They’re both delicious, but the red chili has a quick onset, while the green chili kicks in after the red chili subsides.  Beer is also not the best liquid to try to ease the capsacin burn, as it only provides temporary relief by re-dispersing the chili oil instead of absorbing it like rolling some rice in your mouth would do.  Malc accidentally got a chili that was hiding in the fish.  I don’t mean to ruin anyones perception of him, but he literally cried.  **This experiment is not reccommended for people who don’t enjoy spicy food.  DUH. 

A very generous thank you to Uncle Kevin for opening his beautiful residence in the outskirts of Bangkok, very close to the airport, to me and Malc, and eventually Joe and Laura too.  (We all know Malc, Joe, and Laura don’t have any manners!

I woke up with a jolt of electricity on Christmas Day… no seriously, I did.  During the night I had accidentally ripped my iPhone out of the wall, and I bought such a cheap Thai adapter that the plastic part enclosing the circuit flung itself across the room.  I brushed my thumb against unenclosed circuit in the dark and dimly felt a nitrogen cold burning.  Lucky for me, I was only half-awake and not committed to unplugging it. 

After my electricity escapades, Kevin, Malc, and I ate jackfruit yogurt and Wheetabix (something I haven’t seen since NZ in 2004) on the patio for breakfast.  Although the jackfruit yogurt was delicious, we couldn’t eat too much because we were scheduled, by Kevin, to eat Christmas dinner at an English Pub in the heart of Bangkok.  So Malc got all pretty while Kevin and I waited for Gup and Pat to get home.  Malc’s mum called and it was nice to talk to her and Adele, Malc’s sister, but I wasn’t able to talk to Heids because she had just “popped out” for a dinner with her friends.  Heidi, if you’re reading this, this is my public dig at you for not getting Skype!~~~>  ::Public DIG!::

The ride was about 1.5 hours long, but it was in an air-conditioned, quiet car, instead of a taxi that believes in the 4/50 method of a/c subjecting us to the world of noise that Thailand, Bangkok in particular, is famous for.  The noise is rumored to be like a slighty spicy dish: it is ambient at first, but it builds on itself until it is painfully unbearable.  Luckily, I never had that experience because we were only in Bangkok for a few days at a time, but I believe it. 

We ate a delicious, traditional English Christmas dinner with many other Ex-pat men and their Thai wives.  It was a six-course meal, the most impressive being the plate with roast ham, turkey and CRANBERRY SAUCE!  It was like eating Thanksgiving dinner for the first time that year… however, unfortunately, it was.  It is unspeakably easy to skip holidays in countries that don’t celebrate them, like Thanksgiving in Japan.  Christmas dinner was a bittersweet mix of chocolate, Thanksgiving memories, and …  Then, there was billiards! 

I gave those old men a scare for sure.  Thanks to my Dad and the rest of the males in the Snyder family, I am an *almost* pool shark.  Being two shots per shot and knowing the rules better than the men was a new situation for them.  I chose to lose at the end so that they could keep their man cards on Christmas.  Consider that my Christmas present to them. 

Dec 26, 2009

Malc and I lounged in the pool soaking up the smoggy Thai sun all day talking about what we were going to do when Laura and Joe got there.  Joe and Laura are an unlikely team of recent exes and are hilarious together.  Joe was rumored to want to go straight to Bangkok and party for the first night, and I was definitely ready, but the 14-hour plane ride from New Zealand was a bit more than they expected.  Back at the batcave, Kevin offered J&L a beer straight away and they were both ready for bed soon after arriving.  ::End most boring day in Thailand::

Dec 27, 2009

Kevin took us out of his residence on his way to pick up Gup from the hair salon, and we caught a taxi the rest of the way to the center of Bangkok.  EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP IN THAILAND–AND WE WERE IN THE CITY!  Japan really is one of the most expensive places in the world.  If I wanted a Coke or a bottle of green tea, it would cost 175 Yen=a little more than $1.75, but in Thailand, it’s 22 Baht=about $.55!!  When I came back from Japan I was amazed… I am like my Mother!  I can pinch a penny until it cries!  Thailand is so cheap, therefore more gratifying!

The taxi dopped us off at Kaosan Road, the tourist Mecca of Bangkok, and we were immediately accosted by Thais telling us where to stay.  I almost regretted going there–almost.  We rolled up to the D&D Inn, which is where our imposed tour-guide told us where to go and at the front desk we met Kat.  All we wanted was a locked room to leave our stuff in for the day, and we would be out by 10PM to catch our overnight train to the South of Thailand.  She said once that in order to have a room we must give all of our passports up, and we all just looked at each other and knew that this was our official welcome to tourist-Thailand.  After a few minutes of tense debate, we saw another group handing their leather-bound tickets home over to a much nicer, smiling receptionist.  We decided that Kat must just have been having a bad day, so we got our passports out and she pried them out of our fingers.  We went up to the room and ditched our stuff off and cooled off before heading out for lunch–I was STARVING!

Immediately  as we walked out of the cavern of tailors and internet cafes in between our hotel and Kaosan Road, it started to rain.  Kevin had told us earlier that day that December through March is the dry-season, but as nice as he is, he LIES!  But not all was lost!  We ducked for cover in a small restaraunt and I found my first Pad Thai and coconut of the trip.  NOM!  It was also the most expensive pad thai ringing in about 120 Baht–the next 7 were all less than 80 Baht.  We walked around Bangkok’s palaces and through a politically-charged festival in the rain-cleaned Thai air while our feet became wet and black from all the sludge.  Bangkok is beautiful, but the smog was unavoidable. 

As we were walking we noticed a lot of Thai people in pink t-shirts, and they were all congregating in a dirt lot that was quickly turning into a festival area.  Everyone was wearing pink shirts! 

While we were distracted by the pink shirt-clan, we walked through a metric ton of pidgeons.  A Thai lady came up to me, thrusted an open bag of pidgeon feed into my hand, shook my hand so it all fell out and then, in the middle of the chaotic pidgeon feast, demanded payment!  This was the first scam of the trip, and after scaredly scrambling for all the loose Baht in my pocket, we ran across the street to get away from the pidgeon lady. 

After the pidgeon lady incident, Malc and I split off to see the Democrazy–sorry Freudian type!–the Democracy monument and a castle, which we happened to catch at sunset.  Malc was molested by a Thai man explaining to us about the monument and the castle.  You will notice him staring at his nipples in the following video!  Mai pen rai!

Then we took the one and only Tuktuk ride of the entire trip.

Koh Phangan 12/27-1/4 AKA: The Blur

Mai pen rai is the motto in Thailand: Don’t worry about it!  Don’t worry about the crazy traffic or the slightly overbearing vendors… Don’t worry about  how you’ll get home!  It’ll happen somehow.  The same day that we were on Kaosan Road was the same night that we were supposed to get on a 9-hour overnight train to start our journey to Koh Phangan.  Let’s just say that if you don’t already, you will learn to love the travelling process in Thailand.  We started that day around 10AM, got dropped off on Kaosan Road, spent until 9PM walking around there, buying, eating, seeing things, and then we got on the 9-hour train to the 2-hour bus to the 2.5-hour ferry to the 45 minute taxi on the island to our own little strip of paradise, the Bounty Hotel.  On hour 38 of vagabonding-it without food and minimal sleep, we were finally on the hotel’s private beach with sustinance and alcohol.  Later that night, after naps and our second dinner, we saw the most beautiful Thai sunset.  Almost a rival to the Arizona sunset, the Thai sunset reflects the cardamom, papaya flesh, and ginger that is evanescent of Thai culture.

The next day was spent louging on the beach, with a Thai massage for Joe and Laura, and Haad Rin for a party that night.  Stating that Haad Rin is the party beach of Koh Phangan is a gross understatement.  It is the party beach of South East Asia!!!  The reason that we (and 90,000 other people in the world) chose Thailand and more specifically Koh Phangan for New Years was the famous Full Moon Party in Haad Rin.  Normally, each Full Moon Party culls about 20-50,000 people, but since this Full Moon Party was coupled with New Year’s 2010, a new decade and other such titles, there was a record 90,000 people on the 109 square KM island. 

Among the millions of ridiculously fun drunken things to do at the warm-up party (not even the real shebang) was to jump a flaming jump rope.  Malc tried… So did a few other wasted people. I thought it might not be a good idea with a purse and my signature long, completely flammable, dress.  It was funny as Hell to watch though.  That night was somewhat subdued, catching a taxi back around 3AM. 

Here is a video of a professional fire juggler.

While some woke up with hangovers, others woke up wanting to get motorbikes and search the island for waterfalls, go elephant trekking, learn how to cook Thai, and of course, eat more Thai food!  Here’s what actually happened:

We also had fantastically interesting conversations like this one:

So I gave them shit about it.  I had 11 days, while Malc had a month and Joe and Laura were planning on 3 months in South East Asia!!  I spent the next two days on the beach relaxing with them anyway, meeting new people from everywhere, and speaking English to almost everyone.  If there was ever a time when I believed that English was truly the lingua franca (the international language) it would be there on Had Yao beach.  I was amazed by, and treated to all of the different Englishes in the world all converging in Thailand for New Years.  I’m sure it happens in many other places, but it was special for me!

There was one very interesting phenomenon that happened the entire time I was on Koh Phangan–nobody believed that I was American!  Everybody’s opening line was “So where are you from?” and the political debate that endured after the first time I said I was American was too painful to replay as many times as the question was asked, so I would normally let the three Kiwis I was with declare their nationalities and hope for an interesting conversation to be started about Maori culture, how delicious kiwi fruit is, or the All Blacks, before I was looked at with anticipation.  Sometimes I waited too long and our acquaintances would start guessing my nationality.  Brazilian, Spanish, Swedish–but definitely not American!!  Some Latinos claimed I danced too well to be from anywhere but Latin America, others claimed me as a Northern European just by my looks.  It was too fun to tell them that I was actually American and watch them swallow their disdain for stereotypical American culture.  ><  I likewise, didn’t meet any other Americans on the entire island.  Okashii, ne? (Weird, don’t you think?)  I swear that the island nation of New Zealand rose a few centimeters because half of its population was on Koh Phangan!  We also met a few thousand Swedes, Dutchies, and Australians galore.

New Year’s Eve’s Day and The Full Moon Party 12/31

WHAT A DAY!  After giving Malc so much crap about not doing anything on Koh Phangan, we decided to take a day trip and overload ourselves with the smell of elephants, more Thai food, waterfalls, and snorkeling.  The entire tour cost about 1,200 Baht (roughly $40) and picked us up at 9AM and dropped us off at 4PM–just enough time to nap and get ready for the Full Moon Party that night.

First we stopped at the Elephant trekking corral.  The ladies were allowed to ride in the saddles, but the men were the preferred riders on the elephants themselves.  We slowly trekked for about 100 zigzagged meters, turned around and went back to be refreshed by water that nobody wanted to drink because we didn’t know if it had come from the tap or not.  Luckily, there was a monkey who was cute enough to entertain us while we got to know some British dudes, a family of Israelis, and some Aussies before our next stop.  Good thing we got to know them then or the subsequent, crowded, sweaty truck ride would have been a little bit awkward. 

Next was the Chinese Temple that was built by someone… for lack of English reading materials and a surplus of Thai people we couldn’t understand, that’s the best I can do.  It was pretty!  The Temple had a bell that anyone could ring for good fortune.  However, if you only rang it once that meant you were selfish; twice for you and your loved ones; if you rang it three times, that was for everybody and their good fortune.  There was also a mermaid in the fountain. 

When we were confused enough about the history of the Temple, they corraled us back on to the truck for another sweaty sitting session, and carted us back to the pier where we waded onto a stereotypical Thai motor boat: colorful, long, and LOUD.  The Thai guide passed out some very well-used snorkeling gear, and before I could object,  threw some bread crumbs in the water to attract the fish.  This is when we realized that we only paid about $60 for the entire day–honestly, what could we expect?  Undaunted, I strapped on my snorkeling gear and fell backward into the ocean with my camera on my wrist.  A lot of people started freaking out thinking that I had just doomed an expensive piece of machinery, but my camera is awesomely waterproof.  I took some amazing snorkeling videos with it of a parrot fish, the smoggy tourist-infested coral, and a really bright, red-striped fish.  Some of the Israeli women did not want to actually go snorkeling, so I showed them the video afterwards.  My OLYMPUS Stylus 1050 SW is the best camera I’ve ever owned, except for night photos.  For some reason, all of my night photos have a lot of noise in them.  I like to tell people that the noise is a ghost in the photo… HAHA >

After snorkeling, everybody put another layer of sunblock on and we ate lunch on Bottle Beach–also pronounced as “butthole beach.”  I had the pleasure of eating with two men from Sweden, making them guess my nationality.  Not surprisingly, it took them the entire lunch time to guess correctly (or they were just humoring me and making small talk for the time they were stuck with me) after wandering through Latin America and Western Europe’s nationalities.  Then we decided that we wanted ice cream and beach volleyball. 

“Beck on sa boot!”  any kind of English would do by this time.  I’d actually given up listening and picked up more on verbal cues then if anything.  I understood his hand flailing, motioning towards our boat.  It was time to head to the waterfall!  The people we were playing volleyball with decided that they wanted to go to the waterfall too and hopped on.  We boated for another 20 minutes to the East side of the island and hiked through the jungle to one of the only sources of fresh water on Koh Phangan.  While hiking, my new, salsa-dancing, Israeli friends taught me how to count in Hebrew (which I have already forgotten) and flaunted themselves while hiking barefoot in nothing but their black speedos.  We arrived at the waterfall, admired the waterfall, and then it was time to play.  The Thai guide showed us where it was safe to jump, and then Malc did!  Unfortunately, he didn’t warn me the first time he was going to jump, so he had to do it twice.  Poor thing–it was a big, scary one!

After all the fun was had at the waterfall, the Israelis and I hiked back to the boat talking about salsa dancing the entire way.  We threatened to dance on the beach, but the guide was in a hurry to get back as we were already late.  I was surprised and inspired to hear that salsa dancing was so popular in Israel!  Ikitaiii!  (I want to go!!!)  On the boat ride back, the Israelis sang their gambit of army songs together (which I was surprised to know that both men and women have to serve) and I chimed in when I knew one, like Nagila Hava (sorry if that was blatantly wrong.)  At that particular moment I was very proud of my heritage, having been able to appreciate the Israelis and their merrymaking.  All of the Aussies, Kiwis, and Brits kept to their own during this vibrant display of culture. 

Back to Bangkok 1/4-1/5

We tried to see the public techno aerobics in Lumphini Park, but we ended up being too late (not an uncommon thing with Kiwis) so we shopped and ate at the Bangkok Night Bazaar instead:

The Night Bazaar had a field of a food court, and I only felt like drinking coconut and guava icees.  They were SO NOM.  I took my chances with the water and the ice that the lady (who may have been a boy) made them with, and luckily I didn’t lose.  With a stomach full of potential hurt, we took our chances and walked around the Night Market for one last time.  We saw lots of things that looked like they had been owned before. 

Greetted by a nonchalant glance from the poodles in the front room, we went back up to our rooms, and while Laura took a cat nap, I dolled myself up for my first, and only, night of salsa in Bangkok.  Thanks to Malc and Joe who were ready for an adventure–or may have just felt really bad about missing the aerobics in Lumphini park–I had chaperones to go to Nana station, a somewhat infamous part of town for ladyboys, harlets, and the more old-fashioned kind of fun (and when I say old-fashioned, I mean 1800′s when prostitution was a respectable profession.)

The taxi there was eventful.  We got hassled big time.  The taxi driver took EIGHT lefts… and a half hour later, we were at the earlier guestimated 15-minute drive’s destination.  We overpaid the weasle, but nobody could take my salsa night!  With Malc and Joe in tow, I looked for some flash of salsa, while they dodged propositions a plenty. 

Bangkok’s salsa scene is amazing, with warm people, and as soon as they know that you know what they know, they’re all over you like flies on mango with sticky rice (another culinary delight I forgot to mention.)  I met a lot of superstars in the world salsa scene that night, like Kaydee Namgyal, who was recently awarded by an Indian State for  introducing salsa culture to India, and Anup Thomas, who has his own business procuring salsa vacations.  I also met an interesting man from France, who was highly regarded by everyone else, however, he kept telling me to stay “in my slot” which of course I didn’t understand.  Told Larry about that, he giggled.  

They LOVE bachata almost as much as I do…

We came home late, and the next morning I said goodbye to Laura, walked next door, said goodbye to Sam, and Malc rode with me in the taxi to the airport and walked me in.  It was an almost excruciating time.  I knew  I was leaving the curries, fruits, and the adventure that every day in Thailand provoked, I knew the cold and the bland food I was coming back to, and I also knew that I might not see my dear friends for a very long time after I boarded the plane.  So, we sat outside and reminisced with a little bit of Thai Iced Tea gelatto, while my skin soaked in the last bit of warm, tropical, polluted moisture it could, and then I was asleep on the plane.  Somewhere in between the warm cement curb and my nightmare of going back to the cold, I smelled my last bit of lemongrass, and that warm, yellowy smell kept me in the moment.