Random Observations on the Land of the Thai

Note: The opinions expressed in this blog are mostly based on casual observation and are probably stereotypes that are not accurately reflective of the Thai people. Never the less, the observations have been made.

I’ve been in Thailand for some time now and I’ve found some thoughts about Thailand drifting in my head, so I thought I’d write them down.

Thailand is disorganized: My number one thought is how disorganized Thailand really is. It honestly amazes me when buses and planes take off near the time they’re supposed to. Even our university, which is supposed to be modeled in Western-style, is incredibly disorganized. No one ever seems to know where anyone is or where you’re supposed to go for something. You’ll often receive differing instructions on things from the same people. Businesses and roads seem haphazardly placed with necessity often overriding practicality, with frequently poor results. All in all, it seems like everyone has a general idea of how things are supposed to work, but they lack the abilities to execute on those general ideas.

No matter how much Thai you speak, every Thai person thinks they can sucker you: One thing I always figured was that, for the first few months, Thai people would try to abuse me and my wallet, scamming me (or at least attempting to), until they recognized that I have been here for a while and they’d back off. Not so. Despite being able to carry out most transactions in Thai and being capable of carrying on broken-Thai conversations with Thai people, I find that most people still assume that I’m fresh off the plane and ready to be scammed. I’m still finding taxi drivers harassing me despite being able to tell them that I don’t need rides. The stall owners in markets still try to overcharge me for everything even though I can negotiate prices in Thai to them. It was pretty fun for a while, but I wish lately that they’d just let me be. I recently took a survey in school for some kid’s class that asked me “how should tour companies improve” and I said “stop trying to get me to buy shit, I don’t have money either.” That should show you how frequently this problem occurs.

In MUIC, the school is mostly a joke: despite the prestige that surrounds MUIC, my college here, school is a silly distraction in Thailand. I’m doing well in my class despite poor attendance, as shown by my typically exemplary marks that I earned on all my midterms. Thai kids seem to struggle more, but I think the language barrier (all classes are taught in English) is the biggest cause of their problems. I don’t have any books for any of my classes. I barely go to one of them since the teacher never takes attendance and the midterm was easy enough that I honestly laughed out loud when I read the questions over. Thai kids are especially terrible. They’ll frequently talk while the teacher is talking and many of them never seem to do readings. Teachers never discipline the Thai kids either, which discourages me from putting in any effort, which is something new that I don’t really like. I honestly wish that I had gone to a different university here in the hopes of actually learning something, but with 2 weeks of classes left, it’s unlikely that can happen.

WAKE UP

Anthony woke me up at 8:30 and as soon as my eyes opened, I knew something was horrendously wrong. My head felt like it had been sledgehammered the entire night and my stomach felt even worse than that. Anthony invited me to go up another mountain with him to visit a temple, but I declined and buried my face into my pillow, hoping that any additional sleep that I might catch before I had to leave Chang Mai might take away the pain in my skull. But, once awoken, my stomach decided that sleep was not in the cards for me. Over the next three hours before I had to drag myself out of my room I was between the bathroom and my bed, throwing up horrendously and struggling to understand what the hell had happened to me. I knew that I needed to get myself in shape and get packing, so I tried my best to put aside how I felt and pack up my things and get out of the room. While packing, I kept forgetting what I was doing, losing my train of thought. I was incredibly, incredibly tired and it was hard to focus my eyes on any one thing for a long period of time.

Finally, I got the good sense to check the painkillers. My eyes instantly found the "overdose" section and, despite following the instructions to the letter, somehow I had had an adverse reaction to the painkillers and was now suffering from an overdose on them, or at least a very bad reaction. I somehow managed (in between throwing up any stomach acid that my body dared accumulate in my stomach) to get myself up and out the door. I handed in the key, walked down the street to the store where I bought some water and crackers, and headed to the Chang Mai airport. I sat on a bench with my eyes closed, trying not to look at any person, place, or thing for very long because it gave me an incredibly sick stomach if I did. Anthony finally arrived and I explained my horrid condition to him and he did his best to, once again, take care of me.

We used my leg injury as an excuse to get on the plane before the long line of people that had been standing waiting before us. I finally got some of the sleep my body so desperately craved. I got off the airport and after a long hobble, we got a taxi. I slept through the ride in an effort to not throw up in it, but mostly, it was a semi-conscious blur.

By the time I got back, I felt a little better. Good enough at least to go put some food in my stomach. I realized how thirsty and hungry I was when I ate, but I took it easy to make sure it stayed down. By the end of the night, I felt at about 70%. My knee hurt, my head hurt, and my stomach hurt after an abusive weekend, but I realized how significantly better I felt than in the morning and greatly appreciated that feeling.

I woke up Monday morning still feeling a little out of it, so I took the day and slept for most of it. By the time I got to moving again, I felt alert, awake, and recovered. Ready to take on the world again.

And thus, this concludes my journey to Chang Mai.

Climbing Down the Mountain...

One thing Anthony and I noticed as we walked through the village was the plethora of chickens. Everywhere, chickens roamed freely. No wonder bird flu is spreading so easily in this region, half of the kids went barefoot, presumably walking around with bird shit all over their feet.

There's never been a moment in my life where I've seriously contemplated killing an animal. Humans, maybe, but never animals. I really enjoy eating them, but I've never been one for slaughter and I'm more than content that other people kill the chickens that we press into dinosaur shapes and sell frozen in the stores. But, when my sleep was disturbed in the wee hours of the morning by the constant chirping, clucking, and cackling of the hundreds of chickens that constituted a significant part of the diet of the local villagers, I seriously considered leaving our little bedroom, walking outside, and chucking as many of those idiotic birds into the darkness of the jungle (where they would hopefully be devoured by hungry predators) as I could. I think, as a species, that chickens should have gone extinct eons ago. They're dumb, slow, they can't fly, and they make enough noise to attract every hungry predator within earshot. If humans hadn't discovered how delicious they were I seriously doubt that chickens would exist today.

After dragging myself off the floor/bed, I ate some toast and we began our trek. The skies had opened for the entire night and let loose torrents of hard rain, so the entire trail was slick and trekking was rough. Most everyone slipped at least once. Finally, after a hard, sweaty walk down the mud-soaked trail, we reached a waterfall. I was one of the last ones to arrive, having stayed with Rainey, a Peruvian who was struggling to keep up and falling frequently on the muddy path. At one point during our private trek, he fell and slid down a hill. As I was telling him in the best Spanish that I could muster that he needed a shower, I proceeded to fall myself.

Even with my late arrival, I was the first one to brave the waterfall. My God, was it awesome to stand in the falls. Gallons and gallons of water cascaded down over the cliffs into my back. It kind of hurt, but at the same time, it felt magnificent. The water was cold, no doubt, but the water helped me recover some of the energy lost from the hard trek and the lack of sleep. It was sad that the water wasn't deep enough to swim in, but I still enjoyed getting pummeled by the power of water and gravity.

Almost immediately after we left the falls, I decided to fall. My right leg slipped and a rock kindly caught my knee and broke my fall. My left knee cap begrudgingly took the entire weight of the fall and immediately swelled up and turned strange colors in response. Then I had to trek for about 2KM out of the jungle. Fortunately I had befriended Rainey because he stayed with me the entire trek, helping me get through rough spots. I was incredibly happy when we reached the white water rafting camp and even happier when Rony said I didn't need to go and could ride back in the truck he was taking. Once everyone got down river, we ate lunch and headed back to Chang Mai. Amazingly, I rode in the back of a truck and didn't puke.

Once I got back to the city, I followed everyone's advice and went to a pharmacy and got some painkillers. I was incredibly happy to have something that would take the pain out my hobbling and probably help me sleep well. I took a couple of the pills as the instructions said and finished reading The Things They Carried. After an hour with no improvement, I took a third pill, as the instructions said I could and, within 15 minutes, I felt very comfortable. Anthony and I chatted a bit, but soon the pillow beckoned me. I closed my eyes, not realizing that this would be the last time I felt pleasant for nearly 24 hours.

And so, the trek begins...

Trekking was quite the unexpected adventure. To say that Anthony and I were unprepared is an understatement. Essentially, we both expected an easy, touristy trek through some trees and then a campout at a village - the kind of stuff you find back in the States. Maybe some long walks, but nothing arduous.

We were wrong.

We left the hotel at 9:00 AM. We were introduced to several more travel companions. The group was a fairly respectable representation of the Western world - a Brit, a Dutch couple, a German couple, Anthony and I representing America, two Peruvians, and Rony, our zany Thai guide. We drove to the base camp, which took a little more than an hour. We were sitting in the back of a truck and naturally, I got very sick and threw up out of the back of it. I can't handle Thai vehicles very well.

When we got where we were going, we discovered that we started the trek with an elephant ride. I rode with Daniel, the Brit, and we fed the elephant some of the apple I had in my pocket and talked for a bit. He was a very likable guy, as I have found most British people to be. Never complained about America or our President or our politics. Just kept it friendly. The seat on the elephant was a little wobbly and I had to resist the temptation to hurl.

I decided to push through the feeling and bust ass up the mountain. I decided to chat it up with Rony and was very glad I did. He told me some stories (WARNING: NOT FOR CHILDREN. SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH). He told me many stories from his 47 year life. Rony loved sex more than most people loved breathing. His sexual appetite was insatiable and he claimed to have had sex with "at least 1000" different women. His personal preference was for light-skinned 16 year old girls (which, as disturbing as that may sound, is legal under Thai law as the age of consent is 15 in Thailand) for reasons I won't get into. Despite his preference, he wasn't picky and had even been with a few ladyboys, "but only when drunk," which apparently makes him in the clear, or something. Rony knew every club in Chang Mai where a man could fill his lonely hands and the cost to fill those hands in each club. Most of the time, when I hear stories like that, I take them with a grain of salt, but as far as I can tell, Rony was as close to a real-deal man-slut as possible.

Rony was an experienced trekker. Keeping up with him was harder than I thought it would be. We eventually got to a little hut in the middle of a corn field. Everyone continued on, but I stayed behind and relaxed. I twas incredibly peaceful, despite the strange flying bugs and my vomiting (at least 7 times so far in the Chang Mai trip!). I then made my way slowly up the trail to the village, going at my own pace and taking lots of time to take in the sights of the surrounding, beautiful area.

Once I got to the village, I took a cold, incredibly refreshing shower. Anthony and I explored a bit and got involved in a game of soccer with some locals. They were much better than me, but that's not surprising. We walked through the village and I felt like an American G.I. in Vietnam, wandering through an incredibly strange and foreign place. Then a little girl jabbed me with a stick in the leg and I snapped out of my daydream.

We went back to the hut where village ladies gave us incredibly cheap massages. We then ate a feast of chicken with yellow curry and rice. Rony played some games with us, but by that point, we were all ready for bed. We set up our mats on the hard floors of the hut and settled in for what promised to be a rough night. I fell asleep fast, but I would awoken soon...

The Second Day in Chang Mai...

Anthony and I had originally intended to trek on our second day in Chang Mai, but that just didn't happen. We had stayed out far too late and were exhausted when we awoke at 8:00 AM to get ready. I was also INCREDIBLY HUNGOVER. On pure desire to not have to trek with my hangover, I somehow managed to run to the hotel's reception area, muttered something about being sick, and got the trip postponed. This was an incredibly feat considering that once I successfully disrobed and snuggled back into my bed, I didn't really get up until 2:00 PM (except to get sick five times). Anthony fortunately went off and explored the city on his own and I didn't feel as bad as I would have if he had waited for my recovery.

By around 4:00 PM I had managed to get a shower in and put clothes on. I was pretty hungry, so Anthony and I went out to explore and I bought some lackluster French fries to hold me over. We took to the streets, crawling through book stores and stumbling into strange happenings. We found some guys practicing Thai boxing and watched them spar. Then we noticed the roof of a nearby mosque and decided to check that out. After wandering through alleys and struggling to find it, we finally made our way in for a very short trip. We felt very disruptive and, unlike the Buddhist temples which are either incredibly welcoming or incredibly vacant, there were men walking through them and they didn't appear to be particularly happy to see us, so after making a small donation, we got the hell out of there.

For dinner, we ate Indian food that left us very full and satisfied. I've only ate Indian food twice now, but I can safely say that I like it more than Thai food. It's got more substance, more flavor without being spicy, isn't all about rice (which I'm sick of at this point), and leaves you feeling like you actually ate (I find I'm never very full after Thai food, just tired of eating it). We continued walking through Chang Mai and as the bars opened, more and more Thai bar girls started cat-calling us. Instead of going out, Anthony and I decided to spend the night in reading and relaxing before our trek in the morning.