I spent my first 20 Novembers in Seattle. I’ve had six in San Francisco and two in New York. November 2002 I was in Thailand. It’s my first time traveling alone and during a season typically full of family and friends I look forward to meeting strangers and finding a little more of myself. My month long adventure begins in Bangkok, a city distinguished by it’s ornate temples and scathing sex scene. I take Lonely Planets advice and I visit the reclining Buddha and the floating markets, both beautiful as anticipated. With the obligatory sight seeing out of the way I decide to simply wander the streets for the rest of my time there. This is the way I travel best, aimlessly touring the city and keeping an active eye on the daily life. The steaming sidewalks of Bangkok cook the urban grim and an overwhelming fishy tang marinates my hair. I now curse the Lonely Planet guide that advised me to leave all perfumes at home. It’s a chaotic city, one of skeptical infrastructure. The maps don't match the street signs, switching back from Thai to Sanskrit in no apparent order and the worrisome traffic scene has me believing I’m in a real life Frogger game. As I gallivant around the city I literally make my way in front of, just barely behind, and alongside a barrage of vehicles. As curious as Bangkok appears it’s apparent that those who call it home find comfort in the madness, and that comforts me. It took Murray Head “One Night in Bangkok”, it takes me seven and unlike the popular band from the 80’s, I will make it a priority that Bangkok not be a one hit wonder.
From Bangkok I head north to a perfect little place called Pai. About four hours west of Chiang Mai and accessible via a one-lane road that resembles a gumball machine. The giant kind of gumball machine, the one you see at pizza parlors that circle around and around and after you're sufficiently dizzy you finally get your reward, a yellow piece when you wanted a red. Thankfully Pai was just what I wanted and I spent the next two weeks in my little green heaven. In Pai, everyday is Sunday. Anything that requires leaving your hammock becomes a chore. Unless, of coarse, it's to cruise around on your motorbike. (Note-to-self, invest in a Vespa.)
Pai lies in what is best described as the center of a giant jungle wok. Lush green hills 360 degrees around makes cruising this area an epic days event. After a week of lounging and a couple novels later, a dear friend of mine joins me. Jamie had just finished a 12day silent retreat in the Northern hills. We share a hut in the trees and some necessary conversation. A sturdy ladder leads us to our Swiss Family Robinson accommodation. Equipped with two twin beds and matching mosquito nets our cabin brings us back to summer camp ‘82 and we revert to everything silly. Between us a simple wood table and little lamp to read by, only we didn't read, instead we fell asleep playing games like ‘do your best celebrity impression’ and 'tell me a time when you pee'd your pants.' We giggled the nights away, and I dozed off knowing that’s the only time of the day I go silent.
So you'd think that after a few weeks in Thailand I'd know some Thai right? Not so lucky, I never graduated past 'sawa tee kah' which mean ‘hello’, but my Tonto English definitely improved...want to learn? Regular English (to someone not English); “I'm going to cruise into town and get some dinner, I'll see you later tonight.” Tonto English; “I’m going to cruise (make moto handle bar movements) into town (point to direction of town) for food (point to belly), I come back (point to ground).” It's no use learning Thai anyway, it seems I only said a few sentences a day anyhow like; “this food tastes so good” and “is that snake deadly?” and “wow, this is cool”. At least with the Tonto English I'll finally be able to better understand our nation’s president.
