Buddhas, Germs, Floods, and an Anniversary

Happy Anniversary to me!

Two years ago today, I boarded a train and left my home in Seattle. Two years. Has it really been that long? It's been wonderful, no doubt, but this will be the latest in a line of it-ain't-all-roses posts.

But before we get to that ... Buddhas! Let's look at some now.

The Temple of the Golden Buddha may not be the most spectacular and extravagant temple in Bangkok, but it's easily my favorite.





The building is beautiful, as is the statue itself. With fewer tourists, it's a peaceful place to sit and think to the tinkling sounds of wind chimes.

Of course, I also had to see the famous Reclining Buddha.



Yeah, it's pretty big. But it's a shameless tourist attraction, and people are herded through like cattle. The statue itself is meh, and when it comes to Buddha statues, I really don't get this mine-is-bigger-than-yours mentality.

And with that, I think I'm templed and Buddhad out. No more.

Beach Bungalow a Bust

From Bangkok, I planned to go to a remote tropical location, rent a beach bungalow for a month or two, and generally drop off the face of the Earth. Fresh air, surf, sun, ... I was really looking forward to it. Mother Nature had a different plan. My chosen destination, the island of Koh Tao in the Bay of Thailand, is now a disaster zone, along with the rest of southern Thailand. Massive flooding has devastated the region, cutting it off completely. The Thai navy actually sent its only aircraft carrier to the region to rescue people from Koh Tao. What are the chances? (And who knew the Thai navy even had an aircraft carrier?)

OK, so I refunded my train ticket and will take a loss on the ferry and the bungalow deposit. I need a new plan, but I've been slow to come up with one because ...

Germs: 1, Me: 0

... I've been flat on my back with bronchitis for the past 2 days. I spent a significant amount of time laid low by germs in Hanoi, too. It's discouraging. I admit I may not have the constitution for extended travel in SE Asia. What am I going to do about it? I'll tell you. <pause> I don't know.

In my travels, I've met lots of people who romanticize my lifestyle. Maybe you're one of them. Reality check: sometimes it really sucks. This week alone, I've said goodbye to a good friend, had my plans thrown in disarray, and gotten sick. If I could be airlifted back to my old apartment in Seattle, I'd seriously consider it. <cough>

But I won't.

A Growth Opportunity

I have a dear friend. When she starts a sentence with: "I'm feeling particularly blessed...", I brace myself for a tale of woe in which all the negatives have been creatively spun into positives. I've learned to interpret "feeling blessed" as "the situation is shit, but I'm choosing to focus on the silver lining." (You know who you are, and I <3 you.) My current situation qualifies as feeling-blessed moment. This trip is all about getting outside of my comfort zone and learning to adapt and be flexible. This is my chance.

The weather will blow over. I'll make another plan. I'll recover from my cold and make new friends. For the first time in 2 days, I've left my hotel room. The sun is out, it's warm, and hell, I'm in Bangkok. Don't be such a bloody whinger, right? So, feeling blessed. Trying to, at least.

Universe to me: Happy anniversary! I got you this opportunity. Don't waste it.

Bangkok: Swiftly Moving Stream

<gasp>

It's been 4 days since the Drunken Swede Incident, and I'm only now coming up for air. Bangkok has caught me in its current. Where to begin?

Last night, I watched my new friend L disappear into the crowd on Khaosan Road with his backpack, possibly never to see him again. It was one of those fast, deep friendships that sometimes happen on the road, and I watched him go with some sadness. He was also alone on the road, having planned his world tour with his then-girlfriend but was traveling through Asia with a buddy instead when his buddy unceremoniously ditched him in Bangkok to be with his now-ex -- a particularly low move in my book.

In spite of everything, L's enthusiasm for travel -- and Bangkok in particular -- were high, and we saw much of it together. That included both a trip to see live Thai boxing ...



(My abs look like that. Totally.) ... and a football match (soccer for you Americans):



L watching the local Bangkok football team, Taro.

The football match has been a trip highlight. We sat by the cheering section, where we were quickly adopted. The local fans taught us cheers both in Thai and Engrish: "We ah chee-ah fo Tey-lo! We ah chee-ah fo Tey-lo!" (Translation: "We are cheer for Taro!") Everybody wanted their picture with us, smiles all around, and beer put in our hands. When the local team won, the fans nearly burned the stadium down in celebration with flares and colorful smoke bombs.

We also saw the spectacular Wat Phra Kaew (Template of the Emerald Buddha), and the Grand Palace:





In our wanders, we stumbled across two of Bangkok's red-light districts. Honestly, we weren't seeking them out -- they're everywhere, and they're pretty creepy. You know those big, laminated menus at Denny's with pictures of waffles and burgers? Imagine menus like that, but with pictures of women instead. Girls stand in front of brothels entreating you to have a look at their menu. <shudder> I didn't linger.

Also creepy was this particular food stand at Khaosan Road, if you call this food.



Fancy a snack?

Khaosan Road

Khaosan is a world apart from the rest of Bangkok. A mecca for backpackers the world over, it's written about in every guidebook. The street is packed with travelers, bars, clubs, rats, cockroaches, junk sellers and scam artists trying to separate tourists from their money. I'm reminded of a line from a little-known sci fi movie I like: "You will never find a more retched hive of scum and villainy."

For all that, Khaosan is actually pretty fun. On what was to be L's last full night in Asia, we went into a club and had such a blast we stayed until closing. Yeah, I was the old guy in the club. Whatevs, it's Bangkok. I didn't get home until 4am. L got home even later, having met a girl and went with her to another club. I'm happy to have helped give L a proper send-off. I hope he remembers Bangkok as the city of beautiful women and uncensored fun that it is.

Heart and Seoul

The next day we were kicking back on Khaosan, killing time before L's flight to Seoul. There we met D, a beautiful Korean woman who, as luck would have it, was also flying back home to Seoul that evening. She loved Khaosan, was winding down her third visit, and her first one alone. She was a bit heartbroken that she had just spent 5 days and a lot of money on a very nice room with a king-sized bed, only to meet nobody to share it with. Huh. Just, huh. This brings up so much for me that I can't put into words, I'll just leave it at that. She and L picked a time and a place in Seoul, and are probably meeting up ... right about now.

Winding Down

After L and D left to catch their flights, I wandered around Khoasan on my own and thought. I was surrounded by people, people (I imagined) much like L and D. I had a sudden what-am-I-doing-here? moment, caught the train back to my hotel and turned in early with "Bottom of the World" by Tom Waits running through my head.

On the train home, I saw this sign and had a laugh.

Bangkok: Off With A Bang

Me: I'm getting ready to leave the bar.
Bartender: OK.
M: Do you see that man over there, with the blond crew cut and the bulging muscles?
B: Him?
M: Don't point. The one that looks like a professional wresler?
B: Yes.
M: He's a Swede, he's drunk, and he's very angry.
B: Yes.
M: He's very angry at me.
B: Yes. He said you have a bomb.
M: I don't have a bomb.
B: I know.
M: I want to leave, and I'm afraid he will follow me.
B: ...
M: I fear for my safety. Do you understand?
B: Yes.
M: I want you to see that when I leave, he doesn't follow me.
B: We don't have security.
M: I know. Just, after I leave, if you see him making for the door, try to talk to him. Can you do that?
B: Yes.
M: I'm leaving.
B: OK.
M: Now.
B: I'll walk with you.
M: (walks casually to the door and leaves without looking back.)

No doubt you're wondering what in the world I could have done to so infuriate this Swede. Let me start from the beginning.

I was involved in a long and interesting conversation with a Kuwaiti that I had just met. We talked for hours about everything. Bought each other rounds. Were having a blast. He told me how much Kuwaitis love Americans and Brits because of the war which liberated Kuwait. Which got us talking about politics and the recent upheaval in the Middle East. Ali (the Kuwaiti) used his iPhone to translate the phrase, "I love democracy," from Arabic. Touching.

Then we started talking about Arab identity and borders. He told me that as a schoolboy, he was taught that the current borders of all the countries around the Persian Gulf were entirely Henry Kissinger's idea. There was some back and forth where I was saying that I had been taught no such thing and that it seemed implausible, but he thought I was just misunderstanding his words. That's when the Swede jumped in: "Why don't you leave this poor man alone?"

Huh? we said. The Swede went on to say that he had been listening in and that he had "this American" all figured out, and that I should stop trying to impose my world view and yadda yadda yadda. Again, huh? Ali and I both looked at him like he was nuts.

No matter how hard we (including another American who had been drawn into the fray) tried to clear up the misunderstanding (which it clearly was), nothing was getting through. The Swede knew all. He'd traveled everywhere. Lived in the UAE. Had many Muslim friends. He knew, man. Just knew.

Poor Ali. After the Swede punched him in the chest, he gave up, settled his bill and left. I took the opportunity to relocate to a table of women and tried gamely to make the most of my evening. The other American finished his beer and also left, leaving the Swede alone to get more drunk and fume.

Before long, he was haranguing me at the women's table, and I had to feel bad for getting the women involved in this lunacy. I stood up and tried one last time to talk sense. Sensing trouble, the staff came over and persuaded the man back to his seat. Finishing my beer, I could feel the man's eyes on me.

That's when I went up to the bar and had the above conversation. After leaving the bar, I walked in the opposite direction of my hotel, glancing backwards and listening for footsteps. I was tense. "Kick him hard in the balls and run," I thought. I ducked into a drug store, bought some stuff, and waited, watching the sidewalk. Nothing.

There was a train station nearby, so I hopped a train back to my hotel room, where I now sit behind my dead-bolted door.

Welcome to Bangkok! Sheesh.

Hanoi: Last Days

The day after tomorrow, I leave Hanoi. It's too early yet for reflection, so I'll spare you the verbiage and post some pictures, instead. Yay, pictures!

This is Hồ Tây (West Lake):



This guy was stringing a fishing net in Hồ Trúc Bạch.



On many of Hanoi's lakes you can rent swan boats, and on nice days the lakes are dotted with them. It's very popular with young couples. The one below has seen better days, though. I really like these cast off, dilapidated reminders of everyday life. I'm drawn to them far more than to "beautiful" things.



When I was a kid, I thought trees should be straight and symmetrical. Now, the more gnarled the better.



OK, not a great picture, but it cracks me up. Someone clearly wants to be helpful with this sign, but they didn't quite make it.



So, where to now? Any way is as good as another. It's the journey, not the destination.

Halong Bay

Halong Bay is a World Heritage Site considered to be one of the most spectacular sights in Vietnam. Only 3 hours by bus from Hanoi, it's a must-see. The rumors were true: it's amazing.



The elements have carved the limestone into countless fantastically shaped islets. I got a package deal that included bus rides there an back and a 2-day, 1-night cruise on a junk with my own little cabin. Of course, ours wasn't the only tourist boat on the bay that weekend.



There were eight of us total, aside from the crew: 4 Chinese electrical engineers, a Chinese musician and his girlfriend, an Austrian woman and me. We cruised the bay and visited "Surprise Cave," then the adventurous (me!) hopped in some kayaks and paddled around for a bit. I went to investigate the local fishing village. People actually live and work here. This is just somebody's house:



The weather didn't totally cooperate, but that just means I got lots of moody, gray shots of the islands and the local fishermen shrouded in mist.





Before supper, the crew took us back to the fishing village and we each picked our dinner, caught that day and still wriggling. The group picked out some freaky prawn-like things, all legs and eyes. I picked out some clams. Back at the junk, the chef whipped up a feast that we all shared. I ate one of the creepy little sea monsters. Not that bad! The clams were buttery and delicious, but I lived to regret them -- my stomach was tied in knots for a week.

Card Sharks

After dinner, the Chinese engineers pulled out a deck of cards and started playing a 3-player game I'd never seen before. They called it Landlord and taught me the rules. It was complicated. When my turn came to play, I fared badly.

Looking to save face somewhat, I taught them Hearts. I also came to regress this. They took to it quick. When I started explaining the strategy, they simply smiled: "Yes, it's obvious. If you trade away all your spades, you could be passed the Queen and have no way to get rid of it." "Oh, damn," I thought, "I'm screwed." They crushed me. But it was fun, and from that point on, they did nothing but play Hearts, long into the night and all the next day.



It was inky black that night. Lights on the other junks, diffuse from the mist, reflected off the water. It felt like we were suspended in space. The sounds of muted, far-off laughter came from all directions. I hung out with the musician and his girlfriend for a bit, who were fishing off the back of the boat, then retired to my cabin and slept soundly.

I woke to a heavier mist and rain. My photos from the next day are even moodier.



We had a Western-style breakfast and then just cruised around in the mist for a bit. We pulled back into the harbor around noon, had lunch and then rode the bus back to Hanoi.

Here's me and the engineers. The one with the camera is the musician. A good bunch of guys -- I really liked them a lot.

Hanoi by Haiku

Is business too slow?

Karaoke bar empty?

Try more neon lights.

Dumb pedestrian.

Sidewalks are for parked scooters.

Go walk in the road.

Boiled chicken and skin.

Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew!

Makes the flavor last.

 Slinky dress and heels.

Mmm, I wonder who she's with.

Oh damn, that's a dude.

Air should not be brown.

Thank goodness for my face mask.

Can I bum a cig?

Christmas tunes in March.

Happy new year, all year long.

Why stop the party?

I made this for you,

Karaoke neighbor dude.

It's an I.E.D.

Taxi cab for hire,

Honking right into my ear

Won't get my business.

Life in the fast lane!

Why's it always The Eagles?

This is not a haiku.