Friday morning, I bid a
gut-twisting farewell to Japan. After two weeks of blue skies and warm weather,
I woke up to find it raining cats and dogs! I kept hoping for the rain to
lighten up a bit before hitting the street, but at 7:15, I couldn’t wait any
longer and stepped out into the chilly rain to wait for the bus to the airport.
Because of the lousy weather and
the morning commuters, the bus was almost 10 minutes late: unheard of in Japan!
I would have been outraged if I wasn’t so busy sheltering my bags from the
rain.
I have crappy luck at airports.
They’ve always made me anxious. And it’s not so much that I’m scared of flying,
I’m just healthily aware of the risks. And the weather wasn’t helping: as some
of my friends and family know, I white-knuckled a flight through the 2012 Del
Recho. I spent that flight convinced I was going to die.
Fortunately, I made it through the
check-in process, after being gouged for luggage fees that JetStar Asia hides
on their website. Long story short, I napped the whole three hour flight and
landed in hot, tropical, beautiful Thailand! The airport is far from Bangkok,
though, and I had to ride the train into Bangkok, then figure out how I’d get
to the western part of the city to my hostel because all train lines stop a
good few kilometers from the district I’d be in.
I ran into problems when I got off
the train at a stop and couldn’t get a taxi or bus to my hostel: it was too
far. And for the first time in two years, I found myself in the uncomfortable
position of being in a country where I don’t speak the language. I can say “Hello”
and “Thank you,” but that’s it. Fortunately, I discovered that many Thai people
speak English! The police officers at the station directed me to another nearby
train station and told me to ride it to Hua Lamphong Station. Once again, I hit
a wall when I tried to buy a train token: no tickets, plastic tokens with
computer chips in them. But once again, again, a stranger helped me figure it
out.
Let’s take a second to chat about
Thai traffic. I’ve discovered that crosswalks and lane markers are more like
guidelines than actual law, or at least that’s how people treat them. I got to
the station, but stepping out into the chaotic and thriving streets, I spent a
few minutes trying to just cross the street. I did get a good precursor view of
street life: a lot of homeless people and feral cats and dogs mesh seamlessly
with street vendors and children playing with whicker balls on the sidewalk.
Eventually, a woman asked where I
was going. I showed her on a map and she said she’d get me a taxi. But after a
minute, she seemed to reconsider and over the roar of the perpetual traffic
beast around us, she suggested something. I moronically said, “Hai, sou sou” (Yes,
sure). Before I knew it, a tuttut came screaming up. Oh, you don’t know what a
tuttut is? It is an open air taxi-motorcycle hybrid with bigger balls than a
bull elephant. You feel like you’re taking your life in your hands when you
ride one, but you’ve also never felt so alive!
I was nervous, but I got into the
low, wide back seat. Immediately, the woman helped me put my purse between my
legs and shoved my bags against the far side away from the open side. Purse snatching
is apparently a huge problem.
And off we were. The whole
experience felt like Aladdin’s magic carpet ride if Jasmine popped some “speed”
right before. Weaving chaotically between cars and swerving into oncoming
traffic lanes, the driver laughed at my face and my hysterical squeaks of
surprise and glee. In just the 10 or 15 minutes it took to get to Khaosan Road,
I got a whiplash tour of Bangkok.
Khaosan Road, for those not in the
know, is one of Bangkok’s most famous night markets. You can get anything—shoes,
hats, watches, jewelry, bathing suits, tailored suits, and all the fresh sliced
fruit and hot off the wok pad thai you could want – and for crazy cheap! It is
very easy to spend money here…dangerously so.
 |
| You and me both, Ronald. |
After checking in to Rest Inn
Dormitory, I slipped out of my jeans and into a skirt and off I went to
explore. I explored for a few hours, hungry to see more and more, walking
further and further. I got as far as the Royal Grounds before I decided to turn
back.
Turns out I had arrived at the
start of the New Year prep festivities. I think Friday was something to do with
the princess: on the Royal Grounds, a brightly lit stage was set up for what
looked like a pageant. Behind the seated spectators, children flew kites under
the full moon.
All over the town, vendors hawk
what they’re selling, and they can be pretty persistent. With a smile on their
face, they call you over, “Sir, miss” and describe their wares “You want this
dress, looks so pretty for you,” and offer a price. Usually they’re ready to
bargain down, especially for the height of tourist season. At first, I felt
very flattered by the sudden onslaught of compliments and praise after
conservative Japan, but after a while, my ego settled the hell down.
The most difficult stands to walk
by were the massage studios. With cushioned seats and benches set up in rows,
little men and women rubbed feet, rolled necks, and beat the living hell out of
tight backs and legs for half hour to hour long intervals at a miniscule fee.
Eventually, I gave in…to the fish spa. I paid 120 Baht to have little minnows
nibble at my crusty feet for 15 minutes. Tickly-wonderful is the only way I can
describe it.
I’ll tell you something else: there’s
nothing quite like walking through a night market while drinking fresh coconut
water…out of a coconut.
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