Hello family,
How quickly the time
goes. I was just barely a week in. Now, I’ve not even a week left. This
continues to be one of the best trips for me, adventurous and indulgent,
challenging and exhausting. Having so much fun and feeling great. Indomitable.
Thought to weigh in again, to say hi and send my love and tell you that I’m
thinking of you. And to riff for a spell, to chew on the whirlwind. Spin a few
yarns.
Last time, I was
midway through my time on Koh Samui in the Gulf of Thailand. After hanging out
for a couple more days, I hopped a catamaran for the simple two-hour trip to
Koh Tao, an experience that bears mentioning only because we got caught in a
bitch of a monsoon midway through. What began as an easy ride through choppy,
white-capped water turned terrifying and then torturous. As the boat pitched
violently (and I mean VIOLENTLY) in the roiling water and enormous waves
slammed against us on all sides, it took me a moment to realize why the crew
began furiously handing out plastic bags to many of the passengers around me.
When the heaving and retching commenced, I just closed my eyes, turned my ipod
on FULL BLAST, and crawled headlong into a shiny, happy place (which included
a giant mattress made of Nutella-smothered pancakes) for one of
the longest hours of my trip.
But that hell was so
worth it. Once on Koh Tao, I settled in Ao Leuk, a tiny, secluded cove on the
southeastern corner of the island with 15 or so rustic bungalows dotting
the hillside and reggae covers of pop music playing in the open-air eatery on
the beach (who knew Time After Time would make such a smooth transition). And
the snorkeling was amazing. Gorgeous. Several hundred meters of bejeweled coral
reef on either side of the cove with a rainbow assortment of fish, all glittering
in the sunlight. It was so good, in fact, I stayed an extra night.
By mid-July, the
islands are crawling with tourists (infested, really), almost exclusively
European. I met only a handful of American travelers prior to coming to Chiang
Mai (maybe that’s just my trip or the places I went. Maybe it has to do with
economics. Not sure. On the positive, my pidgin English has improved
immensely). Rest well, my darlings, lest you worry—the “ugly westerner”
thrives, kept alive and well by our Euro brethren, a surprisingly dour,
humorless lot demanding prompt service with finger snaps, or worse, the gaggles
of rowdy, obnoxious toughs revving their motorbikes up and down the
main drags and blathering on about “getting pissed.” To be fair, I’ve met
many fun, interesting, stony Euros and made some true friends, but on the
whole, I've ended up lying low with Thai folks at every chance, because they’re
mellow and because the know how to shut the fuck up. Whereas Bangkok had left
me a little guarded with the locals—the Thais there are definitely edgy, city
folk, seeming to be either hustling for a buck or taciturn to the point of
unfriendliness (except the ladyboys, who are rather aggressively chatty and
grabby, fascinating endlessly over wher I fram and If I wan gilfen…..Hey, even
if you’re not going to the party, it’s still nice to be invited.)—the many Thai
people I’ve met since have been super easy. My favorite one, Kem, a restaurant
server and musician, learned pretty decent English by singing and playing
American pop music, especially his favorite: John Denver (why, yes, we did talk
about Colorado). In general, Thais are pretty cool. Not particularly
demonstrative or effusive. Just easy. Soft. Unhurried. Not in their heads. My
ex-pat friend who lives in Bangkok describes them as intellectually incurious.
I’m not sure if that’s true (though we weren’t exactly deconstructing
Nietzsche). More so, they are shy and modest. Demure. Sedate. With
irrepressible smiles. And they laugh so easily. I will miss their vibe when I leave.
After fleeing the
islands, I passed through Bangkok and headed to Chiang Mai, the provincial
capital of the north. For the uninitiated, Chiang Mai is to Bangkok like the
Bay Area is to Los Angeles (and by that I mean the ruinous, dystopian Los
Angeles in Bladerunner). Less congested or polluted. Less paved over. Way less
edgy and frenetic. Less of a scene. Just kinda cooler—both more temperate and
trying less hard.
Though I must confess
to digging Bangkok a lot, thus far, Chiang Mai has been more my speed. I
arrived by train in the morning, awakening in time for the last hour or so of
the trip through a gently rolling, forested landscape that slowly gave way to
an expansive valley of rice fields and small villages surrounded by tree-lined
mountains in the distance shrouded in mist, all impossibly lush
and colored innumerable shades of green.
I took a room at a
guesthouse near the night market and spent my first day roaming around the city
then sat ringside at the muay thai fights that night. Along with the 400 baht I
won betting with the Dutch fellas I was sitting and drinking with, the evening
was highlighted by two chick fights on the undercard. Best action of the
night. They were ferocious. Like tigers. One got knocked through the
ropes, nearly ending up in my lap (a souvenir for a lucky fan), before clawing
her way back into the ring for the win. Hell hath no fury…
Yesterday, I rented a
motorbike to begin exploring the area [no more shirt cape and cowboy hat. I was
a helmeted, model minority. A gentleman round eye], heading northwest to visit
Doi Suthep, a beautiful 16th century mountaintop Buddhist monastery overlooking Chiang
Mai and the surrounding valley. Besides being the holiest shrine in the north,
Doi Suthep, I learned, is also known (infamous) for the many bells and gongs on
the temple grounds which visitors are allowed to ring, and do so incessantly.
Still, the view and the grounds (including the 306 steps leading to the
entrance) were brilliant. Continuing up the mountain, I stopped at Phumping,
the king’s winter palace (a term used loosely, as it looks more like a
collection of retirement condos on well-manicured grounds) and then drove to
Doi Pui, the nearby Hmong village for lunch. Now, I didn't expect much;
however, any miniscule hopes of a quaint, authentic mountain village experience
were dashed as I rode into town and was greeted by myriad satellite dishes atop
the clusters of rusting tin-roofed shanties and a main drag lined with stores
selling tourist chotchkies. Nothing like the sight of children huddled around a
television playing Nintendo Mario Bros. to alter the timbre of my neighborhood
walk, savaging any last remnants of romance I may have harbored. Gotta go
deeper into the mountains to have a deeper experience, I suppose. Maybe next
time. Then again, the papaya salad was outstanding, even while costing me
several layers of skin on my tongue by requesting “Pet” (Thai for spicy). After
an amazing motorbike ride back home down the steep, winding mountain road of
switchbacks and s-curves, I headed back out on the town, eventually capping off
the night by winning 500 baht off my American tablemates at the nightly muay
thai fights. Something about sweaty, narrow-hipped men kneeing and elbowing
each other into submission that just makes sense to me. I’m picking winners
nonstop these days. Ushering in the bigness. Riding the hot streak in too
many ways to explain.
Today, I rode my
motorbike into the hinterlands to Sam Kampaeng, a natural hot springs about 40
kilometers through the back roads southeast of Chiang Mai. A Marky spa day. A
vacation from my vacation: Soaked in the mineral bath, got an hour-long foot
massage and then a Thai massage—if you've never had one, thai massage is less
“normal” oil massage than an exquisite blend of wrestling holds, Vulcan death
grips, and meat tenderizing that leaves you feeling both relaxed and
invigorated. Like most people, I’ve taken to them rather handsomely. At $6 or
so an hour (with tip), it might be the best deal in a country chock full of
good deals.
Anyway, it seems I’m
running out of days here well before things to do. Still writing multiple times
a day, though I’ve not finished reading a single book. I’ll be returning to
Bangkok in a day or two to sip a few beers with my ex-pat friend, hopefully take
one of his krav maga classes, and continue my shopping at the massive weekend
market (God damn, I do love to haggle. At some point, I realized I don’t even
really want any of this shit—it’s just shit—so much as I want to work
a bargain for this shit. Out there earning my Jewcard, my
dearies….“my money lucky; bring you many customer.”)
But I digress.
Just wanted to say hi
and send my love. Hope this email finds you well. I’ll be home soon
and will see you when I do.
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