I hate to go on about toilets but in Thailand, except for western style hotels, you might be in for a surprise. Style wise they are actually pretty neat but for utilitarian usage I found them to be a nightmare and not because of how they looked but because of what is required to use them. You need balance, Olympic speed skater thigh muscles and a friend nearby to haul you out if you tip over. I have never been one of those women that seems to always go to the bathroom when her girlfriends need to, but while visiting Thailand I drug everyone to the toilet with me when the urge came. The bucket of water is usually filled with fresh water and used to flush away whatever has been put into it. You can flush the paper unlike Merida, but that is really the last of your worries here. I used to wonder why I seemed to frequently see Asians squatting while milling about. Like on a cigarette break or waiting for something they are more often than Westerners seen squatting. I was already aware of birthing positions and the fact that the western-style GYN table is designed for the doctor to have a birds eye view of your lovely vagina and has noting to do with you being in the best position to give birth. So I began to wonder if these toilets were less designed by a sadist and perhaps designed for a really good health reason. And yes, they are. You can read all about the health benefits here and that way I can move onto more interesting things. The toilet scene in Thailand is absolutely not a reason to cross a visit off your list. In fact when I return I hope to take pictures of every toilet I might encounter. Below is a picture of a toilet fixture in my hotel room in Bangkok. It is a spray nozzle designed to wash further the areas you have already papered clean. You might refer to it as a poor man's bidet. But poor or not there is nothing like pulling up the panties knowing you are fresh as a daisy. Especially if you are like me who dribbles a little to the left. (See previous column Mexican Shenanigans).
Thailand humbled me. Having lived in New York City I am used to people who have never been to New York approaching me with an almost celebrity-like greeting; as though they want to touch the arm of someone whom has been to New York. I am always inundated with a bunch of questions about muggings, Harlem, and a host of other things my groupies saw on TV or have in their minds. With honesty I find it funny. I mean we all had to be born somewhere. The upside of traveling with a New York visa is that no matter what the country or language might be you can always say, "The Big Apple" and you will get smiles and nods of recognition. That's a plus and I really can't say if Bakersfield, California gets the same reaction but I am thankful that The Big Apple seems to cheer folks up. It's a nice segue into other things.
Bangkok is huge and New York City looks like Mayberry in comparison. The city is physically larger than anything I have seen and there are about 12 million people there compared to New York City's measly 8 Million. New York City is known as a metropolis and Bangkok is referred to as a megalopolis. Do the math folks. That's BIG! It is also referred to as The City of Angels which is what Los Angeles is called but the difference is that Bangkok is swarming with friendly people and L.A. as far as I can tell is populated by people whose remains won't compost well.
I left for Thailand from Toronto's Pearson. My itinerary was written in military time so I arrived at the airport a day late and a dollar short so to say. Thanks to Pearsons' free Internet access I quickly found accommodations to rest and figure out how to catch the next flight out. I was able to do so the next evening at a tad past midnight. The first leg of my trip was to Taipei and then another flight into Bangkok. The flight is agonizing in terms of having to sit for what seems like too many hours but the long flights are chock-a-block with things to distract the passenger. You have endless movies to choose from which are all free, and there is also a magazine one can browse through to shop. It's called sky Mall. You can purchase, duty free, everything from lipstick to bicycles and cases of wine. And all are delivered to you by journey's end. Everything but the bicycle and wine, that is, which are delivered to your home. In your seat pocket you will find slippers, a blanket, headphones, an electrical outlet, and a little pouch containing a toothbrush, lotion and a Barbi-sized toothpaste. I don't know about you but I secretly squeal when I see that there are nicely packaged goodies awaiting me. I stole another pouch to bring to my brother's daughter because my dad used to do things like that, giving them to me and I always felt like I was getting some big, fat treat. I flew EVA air and let me tell you that airline was wonderful. You didn't have to ask for anything. I was hungry and poof! The flight attendants were there with food. Thirsty? Poof! There was an offering of three different beverages to choose from. The food was real food and not something suspiciously warm. My friend Manuel, who booked the flight for me, had arranged for me to have a seafood dinner. On the surface this sounded great until I got squid for breakfast. Thank goodness I love squid. Squid and coffee: my new favorite.
I landed at Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok. It was clean and shiny and had huge pieces of artwork all about. It was like a museum in itself. I asked for a wheelchair because if truth be told it was either that or a masseuse brought in to massage me out of the seat. Twelve plus hours in one place is what I call 'rock solid'. One does not need to get a visa for Thailand beforehand. You can get an 'Upon Entry Visa' when you arrive. Being in a wheelchair also means you get whisked by all the lines and tedious details of arrival or departure. The picture below right is one of the pieces of art that was on display at the airport. Pretty impressive, I think. It was well over my head and towering. (Notice the peeps below). A subtle reminder of big things to come...
After pushing a reasonable looking button on the ATM machine at the airport (20,000 Baht= 800.00). I went to the outside of the airport to look for the shuttle that was to take me to the hotel. I was greeted with a Wai. A Wai is the traditional Thai greeting. It involves you, the visitor and respectful one, clasping your palms together with elbows bent out towards east and west, bowing slightly, and saying, Sa-Wa-Dee-Kaa (if you are woman). It is a common manner in which you will be greeted and, as a tourist, you will be well advised to participate in, because it is good manners and is the Thai way of saying: The Big Apple! It is a sign of respect, graciousness, humility, and acknowledgement that you are happy and humble to be in a country not your own. It says: I am in your hands and I respect and believe you to treat me well. It is a way to honour your host country as a visitor. It says: Thank you for welcoming me.
I can not stress enough the power of humility. Humility is not a groveling affair; it is the mutual understanding that you and I have something to share and learn. Mutual understanding usually comes about through face to face debates but it can also come about through an eye to eye contact that says instantly: I trust you. I used to go to oodles of trainings in NYC designed to get people to be sensitive. I was always amazed to think that compassion could be taught by officials. After 100 training groups I can tell you that compassion can not be taught. You have it or you don't. The only thing that teaches compassion or empathy, other than your parents or the luck of draw in that space before birth, is life. Life kicks your ass to the curb, chews you up, kicks your ass some more, and then spits you out. After that regurgitation, you learn. You learn if you are lucky. Many of us cave in and hurt for life. Other become sociopaths and providers of misery to the rest of us still struggling. You are blessed, even though it may not feel like it, if you have empathy.
I was taken by shuttle to my hotel. I ventured around for a few minutes and then realized I was ready to eat a horse. I took the elevator to the sixth floor and encountered this: A rooftop restaurant. I ordered everything on the menu and commenced to eating. When I lived in Brattleboro, Vermont there used to be a Thai restaurant that I visited once and immediately decided that I detested Thai food. It was too Coco-nutty and sweet for me.
It was in Brattleboro that I decided I didn't like Thai food and in was in Bangkok, Thailand that I decided that whatever I was eating in Brattleboro, that passed itself off as Thai food, was a sham. I swear, I ordered about four dishes simply based upon the picture and what I received was delicious. Yes, I was hungry, but what was given to me was delicate, light, tasty and not overwhelmed by coconut milk. I ordered something called "Money Bags" which was a deep friend type of Wanton that was tied at the neck like a sack of coins. It was filled with similar ingredients as that of a Spring Roll. I had a soup, an entree and two Long Island Ice Teas which having just landed, I thought myself entitled to. The food was spectacular but those Long Island Ice Teas really hit the spot.
I mention this because when I ordered this beverage in Merida, they struggled. In Merida they offer wine, beer, Margaritas (which I have never had) and Sangria which I detest. If you ask for anything else, outside of a traditional Mexican drink, they leave the room and consult the manual. This is actually only true if you are dining on more traditional Mexican fare at traditional resaurants. There are plenty of western-styled bars in Merida that offer drinks that cater to western tastes. In Bangkok they took my order, went to the bar, flounced the alcohol, stirred, and returned to my table.
From my hotel in Bangkok I took a cab to the Mo Chit bus station with a note written in Thai which allowed me to navigate my way to the kiosk selling tickets to Lop Buri via Ban Klang. The bus ride was about three and a half hours long. and when I entered the bus I was handed a bottle of water and a small bun to eat by the drivers. I was sat next to three women who immediately began to laugh and say things in Thai that I can only guess translated to: Jesus is she ever big. In Toronto I had purchased some individually wrapped butterscotch candies so that I could offer them to people I might not be able to communicate with as a gesture of friendliness and I whipped them out but all three women declined. Three hours later, after a nap and a rest stop, these three women began to talk to me and offered me some of the food they were snaking on which I took and tried. I can't tell you what it was that I was eating but I was grateful for the camaraderie. Later one of the women nearest me held out her arm and looking at my arm she was able to say "same" meaning we had the same skin colour. I used that moment to re-offer my candies and this time they were taken with gusto. By the time I exited the bus I had made three friends.
I went to Thailand to visit my brother who has lived there for 9 years. He speaks and writes the language fluently and I describe fluent as a person that can haggle and make people laugh. He is able to do both. We went to a market which is held once a week in a town about 10 miles from his home called Ban Klang.
The market sold everything from fresh fish and vegetables to razor blades and fabric. One could also purchase what might be described as fast food as there were many people offering up home cooked food for people to take-away. For the most part it was housed under tent canopy's. It was a boisterous affair with tons of people milling about and the video above captures a moment in time there.
One of the things I noticed in Thailand, in general, was how many women are riding motorcycles. I've never been on one but I felt a moment of pride to see so many women mounting bikes. I won't go into the fact that most people, of either gender, did so without a helmet or that it was common to see mom and dad on a motorcycle with a few kids crammed in between all without helmets as well. These kids seemed to have an early understanding of balance and holding on that me, at 53, envied. As a Westerner we might gasp and shake our heads about such lack of safety measures but I began to think about all the days as a child when I was bareback on a horse with three other girls, galloping along getting knocked off left and right all without a helmet. Most people don't think of wearing a helmet on a horse but a horse at a gallop is about the same speed as a moped or small motorcycle. When I was a bicycle messenger, back in the day in New York City, I never wore a helmet and most bike messengers referred to those that did as Sunday bicyclists. They are a menace on the road and should instead go to parks to ride and stay off the streets. Ah the good old days...
It was at this market that I was approached by the same woman that I had met on the bus which I think surprised my brother a bit. Here I was in the middle of Thailand, never having been there before, and I was having an Old Home Week moment of sorts. Also, I sometimes wonder what psychological effect helmets and safety concerns have on a life. I mean I was never sent out the door to play with anything other than a, Don't Take Candy From Strangers, warning. I wonder what effect it has on children to be fussed over to the point of thinking everything around them has a potential for harm. I can't imagine it being good. It stops a child from plunging into the grass and learning that grass is sweet smelling and has things crawling around in it with a life of its own. A helmet on the head when climbing a tree would only make me think a head banger with developmental disabilities had run loose and climbed a tree. People climbing trees are supposed to have scabby knees and elbows. And forgive me for being entirely too cavalier but when I see a child riding a bicycle with training wheels, and wearing a helmet, I simply feel pity. These children look like an Alexander Caulder installation minus the delicacy. An even better description would be those wheeled appliances sent out from motherships to explore unfamiliar terrain. What's wrong with falling off your bike? What's wrong with scabby knees? Speaking of which I have not seen any in a very long time. But then I haven't seen kids running around in hand me downs either... It's an oxymoron of sorts to have all that protective equipment engulfing a person when they are out exploring their environment.
The Thai people are very friendly and quick to smile. All too often I find myself smiling here in Buffalo only to be greeted by someone who is too paranoid and suspicious to return the favour. Not so in Thailand. It was like smiling was part of everyday fun and most of the time I didn't have to go first. Smiling makes for a pretty face and you can always tell the foreigner because they are the ones usually looking grumpy. I don't know why smiling has gotten such a bad rap in modern times but smiling is one of my favourite things to do and being in a country that had what appeared to be the same sense of joy made me feel right at ease.
I am back on my turf now and what I miss most are the gobs of people milling about. Coming home robs me of the social interactions I get when traveling. I miss my brother Michael and his daughter Fern as well.
Next stop: How The Moirae Caused Me To Plan a Trip To Ireland.
After pushing a reasonable looking button on the ATM machine at the airport (20,000 Baht= 800.00). I went to the outside of the airport to look for the shuttle that was to take me to the hotel. I was greeted with a Wai. A Wai is the traditional Thai greeting. It involves you, the visitor and respectful one, clasping your palms together with elbows bent out towards east and west, bowing slightly, and saying, Sa-Wa-Dee-Kaa (if you are woman). It is a common manner in which you will be greeted and, as a tourist, you will be well advised to participate in, because it is good manners and is the Thai way of saying: The Big Apple! It is a sign of respect, graciousness, humility, and acknowledgement that you are happy and humble to be in a country not your own. It says: I am in your hands and I respect and believe you to treat me well. It is a way to honour your host country as a visitor. It says: Thank you for welcoming me.
I can not stress enough the power of humility. Humility is not a groveling affair; it is the mutual understanding that you and I have something to share and learn. Mutual understanding usually comes about through face to face debates but it can also come about through an eye to eye contact that says instantly: I trust you. I used to go to oodles of trainings in NYC designed to get people to be sensitive. I was always amazed to think that compassion could be taught by officials. After 100 training groups I can tell you that compassion can not be taught. You have it or you don't. The only thing that teaches compassion or empathy, other than your parents or the luck of draw in that space before birth, is life. Life kicks your ass to the curb, chews you up, kicks your ass some more, and then spits you out. After that regurgitation, you learn. You learn if you are lucky. Many of us cave in and hurt for life. Other become sociopaths and providers of misery to the rest of us still struggling. You are blessed, even though it may not feel like it, if you have empathy.
I was taken by shuttle to my hotel. I ventured around for a few minutes and then realized I was ready to eat a horse. I took the elevator to the sixth floor and encountered this: A rooftop restaurant. I ordered everything on the menu and commenced to eating. When I lived in Brattleboro, Vermont there used to be a Thai restaurant that I visited once and immediately decided that I detested Thai food. It was too Coco-nutty and sweet for me.
I mention this because when I ordered this beverage in Merida, they struggled. In Merida they offer wine, beer, Margaritas (which I have never had) and Sangria which I detest. If you ask for anything else, outside of a traditional Mexican drink, they leave the room and consult the manual. This is actually only true if you are dining on more traditional Mexican fare at traditional resaurants. There are plenty of western-styled bars in Merida that offer drinks that cater to western tastes. In Bangkok they took my order, went to the bar, flounced the alcohol, stirred, and returned to my table.
From my hotel in Bangkok I took a cab to the Mo Chit bus station with a note written in Thai which allowed me to navigate my way to the kiosk selling tickets to Lop Buri via Ban Klang. The bus ride was about three and a half hours long. and when I entered the bus I was handed a bottle of water and a small bun to eat by the drivers. I was sat next to three women who immediately began to laugh and say things in Thai that I can only guess translated to: Jesus is she ever big. In Toronto I had purchased some individually wrapped butterscotch candies so that I could offer them to people I might not be able to communicate with as a gesture of friendliness and I whipped them out but all three women declined. Three hours later, after a nap and a rest stop, these three women began to talk to me and offered me some of the food they were snaking on which I took and tried. I can't tell you what it was that I was eating but I was grateful for the camaraderie. Later one of the women nearest me held out her arm and looking at my arm she was able to say "same" meaning we had the same skin colour. I used that moment to re-offer my candies and this time they were taken with gusto. By the time I exited the bus I had made three friends.
I went to Thailand to visit my brother who has lived there for 9 years. He speaks and writes the language fluently and I describe fluent as a person that can haggle and make people laugh. He is able to do both. We went to a market which is held once a week in a town about 10 miles from his home called Ban Klang.
The market sold everything from fresh fish and vegetables to razor blades and fabric. One could also purchase what might be described as fast food as there were many people offering up home cooked food for people to take-away. For the most part it was housed under tent canopy's. It was a boisterous affair with tons of people milling about and the video above captures a moment in time there.
One of the things I noticed in Thailand, in general, was how many women are riding motorcycles. I've never been on one but I felt a moment of pride to see so many women mounting bikes. I won't go into the fact that most people, of either gender, did so without a helmet or that it was common to see mom and dad on a motorcycle with a few kids crammed in between all without helmets as well. These kids seemed to have an early understanding of balance and holding on that me, at 53, envied. As a Westerner we might gasp and shake our heads about such lack of safety measures but I began to think about all the days as a child when I was bareback on a horse with three other girls, galloping along getting knocked off left and right all without a helmet. Most people don't think of wearing a helmet on a horse but a horse at a gallop is about the same speed as a moped or small motorcycle. When I was a bicycle messenger, back in the day in New York City, I never wore a helmet and most bike messengers referred to those that did as Sunday bicyclists. They are a menace on the road and should instead go to parks to ride and stay off the streets. Ah the good old days...
It was at this market that I was approached by the same woman that I had met on the bus which I think surprised my brother a bit. Here I was in the middle of Thailand, never having been there before, and I was having an Old Home Week moment of sorts. Also, I sometimes wonder what psychological effect helmets and safety concerns have on a life. I mean I was never sent out the door to play with anything other than a, Don't Take Candy From Strangers, warning. I wonder what effect it has on children to be fussed over to the point of thinking everything around them has a potential for harm. I can't imagine it being good. It stops a child from plunging into the grass and learning that grass is sweet smelling and has things crawling around in it with a life of its own. A helmet on the head when climbing a tree would only make me think a head banger with developmental disabilities had run loose and climbed a tree. People climbing trees are supposed to have scabby knees and elbows. And forgive me for being entirely too cavalier but when I see a child riding a bicycle with training wheels, and wearing a helmet, I simply feel pity. These children look like an Alexander Caulder installation minus the delicacy. An even better description would be those wheeled appliances sent out from motherships to explore unfamiliar terrain. What's wrong with falling off your bike? What's wrong with scabby knees? Speaking of which I have not seen any in a very long time. But then I haven't seen kids running around in hand me downs either... It's an oxymoron of sorts to have all that protective equipment engulfing a person when they are out exploring their environment.
The Thai people are very friendly and quick to smile. All too often I find myself smiling here in Buffalo only to be greeted by someone who is too paranoid and suspicious to return the favour. Not so in Thailand. It was like smiling was part of everyday fun and most of the time I didn't have to go first. Smiling makes for a pretty face and you can always tell the foreigner because they are the ones usually looking grumpy. I don't know why smiling has gotten such a bad rap in modern times but smiling is one of my favourite things to do and being in a country that had what appeared to be the same sense of joy made me feel right at ease.
I am back on my turf now and what I miss most are the gobs of people milling about. Coming home robs me of the social interactions I get when traveling. I miss my brother Michael and his daughter Fern as well.
Next stop: How The Moirae Caused Me To Plan a Trip To Ireland.
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