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February 26, 2005
A Short One After The Long Ones
Sawadee Khap, friends and family. Lonnie and I are having an incredible time, to say the least. When it comes to spicy spicy Thai food, he went from a wuss to a total iron stomach in just under a week. Papaya Salad, here we come (that shit'll make you cry). Anyway, a few days in Bangkok after Koh Pah Ngan and on Monday we leave for Chiang Mai, in the north of Thailand, and then off to Luang Prabang, Laos. Love you all, and please take the time to read the other two posts I just put up. I know it's been a couple weeks, but hey, three posts in one day should make up for it eh? No I guess not.... oh well, read'em anyway! :) Peace and love, brothers and sisters,
-Bodhi
Posted by Tom Bodhi at 04:27 AM | Comments (1)
Hello, Goodbye
Koh Pha Ngan, Thailand. The very mention of it used to bring to my head visions of wild parties on the beach. I'd been told stories of magical drugs, dancing on the sand, the surging ocean, unfortunate yet inescapable techno music, and of course beautiful Thai women. For just a moment I felt like I was there, diving into the waves aglow with phosphorescent algae and the light of the moon. After my own experiences, I realize now that Koh Pha Ngan and the Full Moon Party it hosts once a month are two very separate entities with very different, dare I say, vibes. Someday I'll be ready for the Full Moon.
Living almost a month in Bangkok, I believe anybody would (or should) pray for the clean air and sublime lifestyle that's easily found on an island. I was beyond ready for it. After a taxi, a train, a bus, a boat, a pickup truck, and many, many hours later, Lonnie and I arrived on the beach. There was a warm welcome waiting for us by old friends from back home in Cali', Alan and Robin. Veterans of the place, they've been coming to the very sweet beach village of Tong Nai Pan Noi for over 15 years. The place felt even farther behind the times, which was a welcome feeling. The reunion didn't stop there when I got to give my dad a big hug as well. Our introductions were bathed in smiles.
Goodbye pavement, hello sand. Goodbye smog, hello fresh ocean breeze. Goodbye traffic jams, tuk-tuk drivers, and insistent salesmen; but goodbye as well to the nightlife and variety of the city. Party tips would lead us to a bar or restaurant with subdued music and maybe five or ten patrons inside talking very quietly. No matter though; we always ended up at our favorite restaurant, Rasta Baby, loaded with hammocks and the most amazing smiles and dishes in town. Have you tried the tuna sandwich? The kao pat gai? The omelets? Careful now.
The days were drifting by like the puffs from a dandelion, carried in the wind. Hard to keep track of, but each one so full of beauty and life it didn't matter when or where or how the feeling of "here and now" was, it was just here and now. Stumbling from my bungalow across the sand and into the crashing waves was the most amazing alarm clock I've ever experienced. Laying in a hammock, playing guitar, and reading a trashy but addictive novel gifted to me by a fellow traveller filled the time between meals. The full moon was still over a week away when talk of the half moon party began.
Half Moon. So on we were bouncing down the ruts they called roads to a real jungle party. Someone had a bottle of Mae Khong and before I knew it we were there. I was dancing. The bass was booming. I was hungry. My taxi driver stole my spring roll. The bass continued... louder, faster, incessant. The black-lights cast an eerie glow across the dark faces of the other dancers. Why were we dancing on the turntables? Can they support our weight? I felt like I was on the merry-go-round in 3rd grade. Spinning. I think I fell off into a ditch. Stumbling back to my friends, I saw the sun was already up. Where was the moon? Half Moon. Enough of a moon for me to handle for a good while.
Talk of the Full Moon continued... the legendary party on Haad Rin beach. 12,000 crazies in the bars, spilling onto the sand, spinning fire and spewing Sang Som, sliding into the ocean. Let the good times roll... and at this point, we both agreed, the good times were not in Haad Rin but were swimming in the moon-bathed crests of phosphorescent waves we discovered in our own backyard of Tong Nai Pan Noi. We enjoyed the beach until the day before the Full Moon and then hopped on another pickup truck, another boat, another bus, another train, another taxi, and were back in Bangkok. Back to all that name encompasses, good and bad, happy and sad. The great country of Laos is next to be experienced. The North, where lies wonder and beauty and even more fun hellos and hard goodbyes.
Posted by Tom Bodhi at 04:18 AM | Comments (2)
The Daytime Bangkok Experience
I'm in a taxi. The meter is slowly blinking as the car idles, the numbers climbing with every block. The world seems to be enjoying itself more than it usually does on these smog filled streets. There is an electricity in the air far removed from the tangles of power-lines webbing over the streets. I was up late again, and when I woke I felt like I had to do something memorable with my day. I considered my options as I took a cold shower and had breakfast on the street at three in the afternoon. Now, looking back on my choice, I've realized going shopping at Siam Square in downtown Bangkok is never an ordinary experience.
It was sprawling chaos. Seven floors of dizzying repetition interconnected with fun-filled escalators, if only I could figure out how to reach the ones that take you down. Looking out over the railing on the sixth floor at the crawling consumers below, I couldn't help thinking of human beings on a small scale, resembling those glass ant farms I loved so much as a kid. My thoughts were interrupted by a Thai salesman nudging my shoulder with a stack of Windows 2005 CDs. "Sexy movie, sexy movie, jing jing." he says and smiles. I look from him to the stack of "Windows" cases and then back. "Where are the escalators that go down?" is all I can say as I give him a lopsided grin and head for the exits.
So as I said, now I'm in a taxi idling in that legendary Bangkok traffic. I adjust my A/C vent and ask the driver what's up with the long red light. He explains to me in Thai and a bit of broken English that the King is going to be passing by us in a bit. I look around and realize that traffic is stopped as far as the eye can see. My thoughts drift to what I know about the King of Thailand. I see his face everywhere, but who really knows the guy? There's rumor he plays saxophone in his palace with a small band all night long and sleeps in as late as possible. The King is the bringer of hope and love and well-being for Thailand. He is the ultimate good example; leading his people by good deeds and good words. Less favorable political actions like Bangkok's 1:00AM curfew laws are left up to the Prime Minister. The King cannot do wrong.
The anticipation of seeing His Highness drive by is still building after seven and a half minutes of waiting. Is he going to reimburse my taxi fare? All of the sudden, in the intersection ahead of us zooms by six police motorcycles, followed by a swarm of squad cars. Lights flashing, the police are followed by some serious looking limo-tinted BMW Coupes filled with lethal bodyguards, no doubt. Then I see it-- the Kings ride. Cream colored and stylish, the older model Bentley radiates class. The flags of Thailand fly from the roof. My taxi driver lets out a subdued breath with clouded eyes. Another train of Coupes and squad cars roar by; the sheer numbers in the convoy becoming unreal. A total of over 36 vehicles and many, many more personnel to escort one man through his own city. I prefer anonymity myself.
As traffic resumed, I snuck a glance at my driver. He had a warm smile on his face and a far-away look in his eyes. I wondered what he was feeling. Humans need to maintain a sense of meaning and importance to their lives; be it a faith in a power greater than ourselves; a King as a perfect figurehead to look to in times of trouble; a good mall to go shopping in; somebody to love; a personal creative outlet like music, language, art; anything. If we don't have these soul-touching elements of life, what do we have to believe in? As every sunrise and sunset passes swiftly by, something needs to remind us of how precious each minute we have on this planet truly is.
Before I knew it, the ride was over. I paid my driver and stood at the end of the constantly crowded Khao San Road as a strange feeling washed over me like I'd just come back home to the neighborhood... my turf. I took it as a sure sign I've been strolling these polluted but fascinating streets of Banglumpoo for too long. Where was my meaning? At the Phad Kraprao stand? In the park by the Chao Praya? Everything in moderation. Where am I going next? A river, a mountain, a temple... the beach. What do I believe in? Experience.
Posted by Tom Bodhi at 04:10 AM | Comments (1)
February 12, 2005
Fresh News, Photos!
Update: Lonnie's in town. 32 new photos on TheOtherSide (my photoblog). We're leaving today for Koh Pan Ngan, the location of the legendary Full Moon Party. Should be wild... Happy to be leaving Bangkok but I'll miss the friends I've made... alas, this is travelling, and with every hello comes an inevitable goodbye (usually). Anyway, the kid is waiting, we've got a train to catch!
You'll hear from me again!
Posted by Tom Bodhi at 12:43 AM | Comments (3)
February 07, 2005
One Day In Cambodia
I had a rough day yesterday. An upsetting alarm woke me at six in the morning to catch a bus at seven after I finally got to sleep at two, much earlier than normal these days. I've been getting plenty of sleep lately, but I've also been living a bit nocturnally. Bangkok is starting to warm up; the days are polluted and humid, so I figure why not sleep through the worst of it and wake up for breakfast at dinner time? Anyway, so I was up at the same time I'm usually saying goodnight waiting for a bus that would take me to Cambodia and back in one day. The bus is late of course, so I grab some Tom Yum Gai and talk with yet another Swede traveling Thailand. She's on her way to Angkor Wat...someday I'll go, but today I'm only crossing the border to get another 30 days in the place I love, Thailand.
After the five hour ride, we spend 1,200 baht and another few hours waiting while some sketchy dudes disappear with everyone's passports. They are apparently getting the visas done for us. On their return, it's back in the bus and a 15 minute ride to the border. My first impression is that Cambodia is a much poorer country than Thailand and everyone has an angle they're working on ignorant tourists like us. From the four year old kids who only have the filthy shirts on their backs, if that much; to the guides who lead us through one checkpoint after another; they all know we have money and want any amount they can get. Two kids with infinite sadness in their eyes and dirt from head to toe carry umbrellas over my head to block the beating sun...I feel like a VIP millionaire in a world that brings tears to my eyes and raises conflicting feelings of guilt and relief about being born into a privileged western world.
Across the border I notice, past the lines of beggars and hard working Cambodians pulling heavily-loaded hand carts filled with imported goods and food, there are a number of massive casinos. Gambling is illegal in Thailand. Like the border between California and Nevada, USA, the contrast between one side and the other is very sharp. The other thing I notice is among the backpackers traveling towards the inside of Cambodia are a number of very well dressed, wealthy looking Thai men and women. There are signs posted stating that gambling is a risky business and the Thai government holds no responsibility to any personal loss of any kind. These upper-class Thai gamblers walk among the diseased, the hungry, the thirsty, the victims of the numerous mines still active in this poor country who are missing arms, legs, the sides of their faces.
Between one checkpoint and a casino I notice a Buddhist monk in the traditional orange robes answer his ringing cellphone as another man passes him a huge wad of cash rather discreetly. I have a lot to learn about the business of being a monk I guess.
Just a bit further, a commotion behind me brings my attention to one kid who looks overwhelmed with joy. He has a small sealed plastic bag of peanuts that someone must have just given him. Within seconds, he's surrounded from every side by other kids, younger and older. The bag is pulled at from every direction like a fresh piece of meat in the middle of a pack of wolves. They bounce and scream down the street past the other beggars, most of whom can't walk, and disappear into the dust and crowds.
This place gives me the chills. I hurry through the checkpoints and after unknowingly paying off the police to cut to the front of one line (really, it was an accident...) I'm on my way back to Thailand. On a bridge over a trash filled puddle, something happens that I never even dreamt about, until now. A little boy with no clothes on, cracked and parched feet, and a tear in his eye reaches up and touches my arm as I walk by. He says "Ao nam, ao nam, ao nam" In Thai it means "I want water." I'll never forget the look of his gaze as it moves from my face to the bottle of water I'm carrying. I can ignore the huge number of kids asking for money, even if it's only "neung baht khap", which means one baht, worth about two and a half pennies, but water is something every human being should have more than enough of. I happily give him the rest of my bottle and wish I had a full one to give.
I now have a fresh stamp in my passport giving me another four weeks of Thailand and a fresh memory of the border-town Aranyaprathet that I'm in no hurry to go back to. After experiencing something like that, I want to cry and laugh about the petty problems and complaints that us "privileged" people make such a big deal about. I also know now that a trip to India or similar highly impoverished place would be too hard on my emotions to bear. On the other hand, someone who always has beautiful things to say told me "What is life for if not to feel?" Too true, momma. Appreciate everything you have, even if it's something so simple and taken for granted as clean drinking water. Don't blind yourself to any aspect of this world we share, be it good or bad. Acknowledge it all, but don't dwell on any of it. Don't worry, be happy.
Posted by Tom Bodhi at 03:09 AM | Comments (4)