Bay to Bangkok

Getting out of San Francisco airport was tougher than I imagined. I was marked for a security check and waited several times in marked off quarters to go through security. After having a nitrogen scan in the air chamber, I was ushered into a big plastic box and "observed" by a TSA officer for about four minutes as other travelers rushed past and gathered their things from the conveyer belt. I started fretting that I looked suspicious and worried that they'd keep me longer. It reminded me that had I accepted the NGO job with a risk of imprisonment in Thailand, my captivity and sense of paranoia would be far, far worse. After scouring my bags and asking me a series of inconsequential questions, they let me pass through. It was as if America was saying "wait a minute, you DARE to leave this American life of yours, there MUST be something dangerous about you. Perhaps there is --curiosity and absolute freedom (once they let me go, of course). In LA, I met a woman in the waiting gate who told me I could upgrade to premium economy for $100 and lay down all the way. I asked at the gate and they said it was too late and the flight was full. Later, while everyone was sleeping, I crept into an unused seat ad slept blissfully. Later, the stewards noticed that they had one hot wet towel too few and quickly isolated me as the perpetrator. I returned to my seat only to be met by a lady in a business suit who told me I'd have to pay $750 USD for the upgrade and walked away. After a few moments, I followed her to the back and requested that I pay only $100 for the seat due to my understanding of the price difference. She was clearly offended that I hadn't asked her permission to upgrade. I apologized and said I didn't mean to offend anybody. Once I apologized, she looked far less distressed and said it was okay. We then smiled and wai'd eachother (hands together at heart with a slight bow). This was a reminder to stick to the rules and shirk my cowboy attitude. It wasn't about money to her, it was the discourtesy that was worse. Welcome to Asia! Wake up and respect, Kyra!

Today is my third and final day in Bangkok. My friend Ben has been living here for four years and has a huge lovely four-bedroom home on the Eastern side of Bangkok. The house is beautiful and my room has lots of windows from which I can hear the many crickets and birds of pseudo-suburban Thailand. He's the only foreigner living around here so I'm completely immersed in Thai culture. We eat food from the roadside stalls in a sprawling market close by or take a tuk tuk to the river to have meals along the river. The food is incredible here - very spicy, very flavorful, very fresh, very cheap. My first day was spent roaming around the Royal Palace and the historic district in a haze of jet lag while Ben was at work and meeting up with another friend for a few hours, then falling asleep by 9pm. I awoke at 3 am the next morning and later heard the song of my favorite woo woo woo woo bird (a myna bird?) and smiled ear to ear. A gecko scurried across the wall and I was comforted by the little critter knowing he'd eat mosquitoes if there were any.

Last night was truly an experience. We met up with some of Ben's friend and spent the day by the river going to temples, shopping, eating, drinking thai beer and watching the boat traffic go by with monks in saffron robes, school children and everyone else aboard all sorts of boats that did not appear to have any nautical traffic rules whatsoever - just like on the streets. There are so many close calls here, but I haven't see an accident yet. Amazing. It was only when I was noticing five boats converging on one spot from different directions that it hit me: I'm here! I relaxed in with the insane flow of things and listened while Ben and his buddies talked about the difficulties of teaching in Bangkok to kids who don't speak English - apparently you can just come here and teach whatever subject you want to kids who attend English only speaking schools - and complained about the expat subculture and admonitions from local people that they received if they failed to wear the state-designated daily colors. It recently went from yellow to pink on Tuesdays. Who knew? What color would good ole' Bush choose for Tuesdays, I wonder. Yella? They all love living in Bangkok and have learned the language pretty well. If I choose to work, it will be no problem to return here. That's nice to know, although doubtful - if I was to go to a city, I'd prefer Kuala Lumpur, I think.

Bangkok is cleaner and more modern than I recall from my visit 10 years ago. I returned to Khao San Road and wandered among 20 something backpackers looking haggard and rugged from their travels. While this type of travel resonated with me at age 23, it is no longer the type of travel I'd like to do. I am indeed, confessing as a high-maintenance traveler that I prefer a more refined manner of searching through SE Asia. I will forge my own path of medium budget healthy accommodations with spirituality wherever possible. Grunge is not my cup of tea. I have a feeling I'll settle for longer periods of time in various places and immerse myself comfortably in the culture. We'll see.

Yesterday evening was truly a marvel! Ben and one of his thai girlfriends went to a local Thai club that looked like a ride at Disneyland or a theme room in Vegas. It had tropical trees and vines all over with white lights strung everywhere and wooden walls with waterfalls. A great long-haired band came on to the delight of squealing Thai women who danced more and more around their tables as the night continued and the alcohol consumption continued. Their smiles were penetrable. We were sitting front and center as the only foreigner/fareng. I was the only female farang and the men in the band kept winking at me and blowing me kisses while singing, especially when they covered "Still loving you" by the Scorpions in English. There was a guy standing on his table very close to us with wild long hair, a cowboy hat, feather chaps and a belt with red and blue flashing lights and a Scorpions t-shirt who struck poses all night long like John Travolta in 'staying alive.' I wonder if he goes to Burning Man??? It was all very fun. Thereafter, we headed to a place that could only exist in Thailand. It was a smoky, multi-level nightclub with a giant stage in the Bangkok ghetto filled with Cambodians and Laotians. On stage were beautiful dancers in flashy sequined and boa outfits doing synchronized dancing to upbeat music - almost all men/many transvestites were spinning around and sashaying to and fro as stunning women. The really crazy thing was that almost every man in the joint had 1980s hairstyles, i.e. fancy mullets with spiky hair (remember flock of seagulls) and spanking clean white suits with glitter on some and fancy cravates on others. They also danced and sang in a synchronized form and well, they were just so flaming gay as they taunted each other on stage that I thought the place would go up in smoke. The audience was wild - again dancing around their tables - as the singers would collect rope necklaces of 100 Baht notes around their neck from adoring fans. I was again the only farang female and it felt oddly familiar to feel safe and inspired by gay men everywhere. If this act was to go to San Francisco, the men would love it! When I left, one of the performers shook my hand in the western fashion and smiled while saying in a super high pitched gay tone something like "you really should try my hair product for that frizz of yours" I'm guessing. All I could do was laugh at the novelty of it all as we jumped in a cab to yet another dance club that had western 20-somethings and was by comparison, uninspired.

This morning, I awoke to the old smell of smoke-filled hair. Ugh! Bangkok's attempted ban on smoking in clubs is apparently not working. Fortunately, there is a hot water shower only steps away. It is doubtful that my interim abode in Koh Phangan island (I move into the program accomodation on 2/2) will have hot water, so I will savor this luxury before stepping out to an even greater one: the street full of tuk tuks and motorbikes, buses and exhaust fumes, hawkers selling food of every imaginable scent, smell and description, schoolgirls and monks and Thai folk haggling and zooming around everywhere in every direction all at once...yet never running into each other or complaining about loud crazy music blaring in their ears or near misses by vehicles...then, for no reason at all, I am behind a mild man carrying a small speaker who sings gentle thai songs while walking slowly through the crowds and small snakes writhe in plastic tubs as turtles try to climb out of another and in the distance you can hear the monks chanting in the temple and people clanging bells for luck at the nearby wat as fish writhe all over each other in the nearby river as people feed them 'lucky bread' and make wishes to the fish...oh right, and if I do get in a cab, I have to trust that it's all in the flow when the driver takes both hands off the wheel to wai every time we pass a temple or a picture of the king (all the time) while cars and motos merge in and out of lanes like a lovely meandering dance - exactly as it should be. This place is a trip. A trip indeed. It's nice to be here. This afternoon...the islands...