Part six of seven: San Francisco, Japan, & Thailand (July 2013)

Welcome to Thailand!!! ราชอาณาจักรไทย

"Turn around! Go back to the airport," Deezy cooly orders the taxi driver. Moments before, we had disembarked the plane and traversed our way through the chaotic Bangkok airport. Crowds were gathering and excited Thai suffocate foreign tourists with information about the country and local transport systems. A cacophony of voices competing for the attention of newly arrived vacationers and businessmen echoes throughout the walls of the terminal. After exchanging dollars to baht, we head to the main lobby to figure out the best way to the hotel.

A woman who speaks English asks us the name of the hotel, which we provide.  Telling us that a taxi is the most efficient way of getting there at this hour (11 PM), she tells us to pay no more than $8 and then writes directions for our driver in the Thai language, which is full of whimsical twists and curves that create a masterfully awesome text. She emphasizes that anytime we take a taxi, we must direct the driver to turn on the meter, even if we have already brokered a deal. We exit and enter the taxi line. The taxi driver who had been so anxious to find his prey - driving these two unsuspecting Americans to their hotel in the heart of Bangkok - is visually surprised by the definitiveness of Deezy's voice, "We are not paying you $15. You didn't turn on the meter." The taxi driver seems nervous now.  His usual tourist trap has backfired. He's messing with the wrong guy.

Deezy looks at me, "You okay?" I nod my head affirmatively. "You know, that's really messed up. Really!," Deezy says under his breath but loud enough for the taxi driver to hear. The taxi driver falls silent as he circles back to the airport.  "We're not starting our trip this way," Deezy confidently announces, "but, I see how it's gonna be." I smirk and know that we are going to take Thailand for a whirl or vice versa. Either way, it's gonna be a blast! We jump out of the cab without looking back at the pathetic driver who has now lost his fare and a bit of pride.  The next driver is meek and unrattled when Deezy immediately tells him to turn on the meter, which is promptly started. And $7 later, we arrive at the hotel. The Muse Hotel is a funky, boutique locale in downtown. We are welcomed warmly and the room is lovely!  Welcome to Thailand.

Drip....drip...drip. Drip, drip, drip...There's a flood in our room! The air conditioning unit broke. It's 6 AM. Maintenance arrives ten minutes after the call.  Quick fix. Now wide awake, Deezy and I get up and head to breakfast, which is a feast. After returning to the room, we discuss what to do. As Deezy is showering and dressing, I look at the Thai phrase book provided in the room. Anyone who knows me knows that I will be using it. Let's hit the streets!

A taxi takes us to the Grand Palace (พระบรมมหาราชวัง). I greet the driver in Thai and leave the cab with a Thai good-bye. Not bad for my first time with the language. At the palace, a widely practiced scam is in our consciousness. We'll be told that the Grand Palace is closed and then a tuk-tuk driver will cajole us into his cab, drive us around for an hour, and entice to buy cheap jewelry or fabrics from one of his "sponsors." We don't fall for it, we're too clever! But, we are told by an ill-fitted civilian sitting at the entrance that the palace is closed. Umm....really?!  I see people entering. We don't fight it. We leave.

But before doing so, Deezy is told that he needs to put on pants, no shorts allowed.  Uhhhh...he needs pants from a tailor and the tuk-tuk driver will drive us. No thank you! Right across the street is Wat Pho, where the Reclining Buddha is housed. Let's go! Mostly surrounded by locals, Wat Pho is very crowded. Locals get in for free because it is, after all, a place of worship. We pay our fee and get a free water, which is welcomed by us both. The Reclining Buddha is larger than pictures capture and, despite the noises of the crowd moving, it's relatively quiet. There are brass collection pots lining the opposite side of the grand statue. Tokens purchased by those paying homage are thrown into the pots, making an arrhythmic yet enchanting sound. The air is filled with the fragrance of incense and perfumes and flowers. The space is vast and we explore every part of it.

I learn that the wat is the location of the original Thai massage. I desperately want one but the line is enormous. Maybe we'll return. Weaving our way through free standing structures and rooms with varying kinds of buddhas, we find a private meditation room with locals praying. I pay my respects and then we move on. As we were deciding where to go next, Deezy notices a young Asian boy ferociously snapping his camera at us. Apparently, the Thai are fascinated with black folks. Deezy becomes the attraction...again! But in true fashion, Deezy grabs my camera and starts snapping pictures of the kid. The little chubby fellow is super excited.  Classic!

There are a lot of rules in Thailand: You cannot speak unkindly of the King or Queen; you cannot step on money or let it fall to the ground; you cannot step over images of the Buddha or use your feet to point; you cannot touch someone's head; you cannot take a picture with a Buddha unless you are looking at it (no face forward pics). Now, all of these rules have cultural reasons. First, the King and Queen rule the Kingdom of Thailand. Just as a small reminder, their faces are posted on all major roads, intersections, and other points of interest. Needless to say, we did not utter one unkind word, notta one! And...even here would I only write of the pleasantries of their highnesses and their beautiful country. Second, the King's and Queen's faces are on the money, so don't drop it. Third, feet are dirty and impure. (AMEN!) For that reason, it is a major faux pas to treat a deity, such as the Buddha, or a person with such disrespectful conduct. Also, never show the soles of your feet...ever! Fourth, the head is believed to be the house of the soul.  Do. Not. Touch. It. And fifth, you and Buddha are on completely different divinity levels. You know...Buddha's way outta your league, type-of-thing. All but one, evidenced by the photos (mistakenly took photos with my back towards Buddha statues), are followed by me.

After spending an hour or so in Wat Pho, we saunter over to the street market.  Now, this isn't just any street market. This is Thailand. The streets are cluttered with vendors selling everything from atypically large pea pods to jewelry to earphones to self defense weapons. The clamor of the vendors' shouts and shuffling of the people through two single file lanes add to the scene. The air is filled with the odors of trash, rotten food, cheap plastic, flowers, incense, and cooked food. We don't dare try anything for fear of getting dysentery. It looks yummy, but if I have one taste, I fear that it may be my last. The street is dirty and loud and colorful and marvelous all at the same time.  

The street shopping is endless. The route crooks and turns with the makeshift kiosks and leads to a larger open fair on the water, where klongs await their passengers. We spend hours roaming through, noticeably Westerners. Few tourists are in the tangle of the shopping web. I buy a pair of adorable flip flop that have bells on them. Deezy buys some Buddha-type prayer beads. The music on the street is growing louder and each vendor is desperate to get a sale. Everything is inexpensive. Perpendicular to this street market, there is another road that leads to more shopping and carved out shops with Buddha statues in every shape and size and made of all different materials. I want one. I need one. I walk away without one. "How are you gonna pack it?," Deezy asks pragmatically.  Ugh!  He's always right.  

We cross the street and enter into the Monastery. Just steps away is the street market, but it feels like a world apart. Patiently we search for the building we need to find. There are free meditation classes and we're itching to go in. It's only a few minutes before the class begins. The complex is slightly complicated because nothing is clearly labeled. Finally we find it. The class has already begun. We spot a few monks walking causally through the complex. Ordinary guys draped in yellowish-orange cloth. They do, however, look peaceful. Donning the garb and easy smiles, the monks move purposefully from building to building. One hops up the stairs and into the meditation class. We stand at the base of the cement stairs.  Shoes are in piles outside of the door. A crowd of locals are sitting at the opening to the classroom. It's overrun and we're late. Instead of interrupting the class or waiting for another to begin, we head back to the Grand Palace. Hopefully we can return...

The Grand Palace is, indeed, grand. The grounds are extensive and it is heavily guarded by military personnel with AK-47s. The militia men look no older than 18 years. It's unclear how important their post is. We walk by them and enter into the foreground of the palace. There are interconnected buildings and temples within the walls of this palatial landmark. Huge spheres and domes are covered with gold leafing and ancient paintings are hidden in door passages. Sparkling and glittering in the sunlight are these elaborate edifices, some of which have chimes that make a sweet melody when the wind brushes by them. Surprisingly, there are few tourists.  Many Thai come to the palace to worship Buddha, and there is separate entrance for them: you guessed it, free! There is enough room to walk without being crowded. We make our way to a free water spout and fill up a bottle with water.  The heat and humidity is weighing heavily on us and we have been walking for hours now. Aside from its beauty, the Emerald Buddha (พระแก้วมรกต), and watching locals observe certain rituals, there is little to do except "sight-see."    Making our way through the crowd, we jump in a metered taxi.

It is nearly 6 PM.  We wait on a random street corner in the "downtown" part of the city near our hotel after stepping out of the taxi. A white man approaches us.  "Hey! Are you taking the cooking class?," he inquires. Why, yes, we are. Actually, we are! His accent is undetectable. As we exchange pleasantries, a white woman approaches asking the same question. Looks like a group of four. Better yet, we're in the right place. Darkness is setting in and the area is a bit seedy. The alley at our meeting point is dark.

As if coming from nowhere, our cooking instructor appears. He is a slight Asian man who speaks fluent English with only a hint of an accent. His energy is boundless. His excitement is contagious. He leads us back to the "cooking school," which is an apartment converted into three clean parts: preparation with a bathroom attached, dining, and cooking (on the porch). The colors are bright and cheerful. We all introduce ourselves and our country of origin. The man is from the Netherlands and the woman is French-Brazilian, living in France. The former is on holiday to see his Thai girlfriend of several years. And his story on their relationship is a little questionable. The latter is a flight attendant on a layover for thirty-six hours. The instructor starts us off immediately. He brings out fresh baskets of vegetables, spices, and other ingredients. He shows us how to make coconut soup, cashew chicken, fish fritters, and sticky rice. And so my love affair with sticky rice begin!  

I take the reigns and begin snapping photos. The instructor is enjoying the attention. His sense of humor is unique and I cannot help but find genuine humor in everything he says. We're quick friends. "Miss America" is the nickname he gives me and every sentence seems to begin with it as he starts to give us directions on cooking. "Miss America, grab the knife!" "Miss America, come over here for a picture!" I quite enjoy it.

The class is three hours and a fun time. We eat each dish and Deezy begins to realize that he likes the food. He really likes it! I've found the answer --- cooking classes give him a sense of knowledge about the food and ownership.  Hands down, it's the best Thai food I've ever tasted. At the dining table, we are all enjoying talks of traveling and different things to do in Thailand. After our final dish, the instructor brings out a dessert that he has made. We are all full. Beyond full. BUT...we all taste the sweet delicacy before us. It's in-cred-ible! I can eat but a few bits. Someone's going to have to roll me to the hotel. Our departing gifts are cookbooks and water. And, just as quickly as we all became friends, we disperse down the dark alley and into the city nightlife.

Deezy and I decide to window shop as we walk back to the hotel, a mere thirty minute trek. It's past 9 PM, but many shops are open - especially the tailors. We hadn't contemplated getting tailor-made clothing, but we had both heard that Thailand was the place to do it. Peering into the windows, our minds start to spin with the idea of tailored clothes. Without saying much, we enter into a shop and the next thing I know, we're both picking out fabrics for suits and shirts and dresses. Deezy has two cashmere suits made with shirts. When we return for the pick up days later, he orders three made-to-fit pants. Initially, I get fitted for a traditional silk Thai dress, two suits (one pant, one skirt), and a cotton shirt. I later design and order a dark blue linen dress. This unexpected adventure is so much fun! We select colors and textures, length and fit. Our measurements are taken and we plan to return the following day for a genuine fitting.  

The next morning we return to the tailor shop. The owner, Raj, and his wife, Simran, are of Indian descent. Raj has lived in Thailand his entire life; Simran lived in Mumbai and left when they were married. They have one child, a son in medical school in India. Raj speaks perfectly polished English, plus a handful of other languages. Simran speaks English with a bit more difficulty. It doesn't stop her from prying and pushing. She is quite possibly the rudest, most inquisitive person I've met, and I can't help but absolutely adore her. Her facts are often wrong, and everything is "no problem" even if it is a problem. Raj is much more practical, a true businessman.  

We spend four hours with them and really get to know them. Pins are pushed in the fabric and sometimes my skin, tape measurements are recorded, and fabric is covering every flat surface. Deezy and I become fixtures in the shop. Patrons enter, get served, and leave; we remain. Simran is intermittently lying across the weathered brown leather couch. There are two in the shop. Had her body not been so corpulent and her appearance not so harsh, she would be reminiscent of a greek goodness lain across a bed as a lover feeds her grapes. Seriously, that's how she's posing. When new customers enter, she bounces to her feet and drives a hard bargain to make the sale. I think she thinks she's endearing. Her sales pitch is transparent and her approach is brash, but the prices are rock bottom. A good deal! Raj finds her routine tired; he tells us so. We all laugh, including her. Deezy and Raj bond over Simran and me "clucking." We are told to return the day we leave Thailand for a final fitting and to pick up our items.

Exit on the street and hail a taxi. Destination: the area of the Grand Palace. This time, however, we are going to take a klong. So, we are dropped in the general area of the klong station. I had researched it, and we should be able to get the Grand Palace for less than $1 each or 32 baht. Upon arrival at the first station, we are ushered to a "sales woman" who tries to sell us a private klong ride for $60 each.  WHAT!!! First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, the river is filthy dirty. It's not like a harbor cruise or anything. PAH-LEASE!  

I explain that I know we can jump on the local transport klong; she says we cannot because it's a holiday. No it's not, you shady, shady, shady lady. We're used to it by our second full day. The young woman now has an attitude and demands our money. I give her a "you-gotta-be-kidding" look and turn around to leave down the alleyway. Deezy and I know that there are plenty of klong stations along the river.  

Less than a three minute walk, we arrive at one. Each station is numbered to make it easy to remember where to go and how to return. The klong is crowded. Actually, crowded is an understatement. It is like the NYC subway at rush hour amplified by a hundred. Our bodies pile on others. Everyone is told to push back. I can barely breathe. To pay the fare, a boat worker comes to collect it. I can hardly move to get the coins. We were the only Westerners on the boat, so it was easy to track us. I pay the fee and the worker continues through the layers of people and is successful in collecting from everyone on the boat...pretty impressive. As bodies move back and forth to accommodate new passengers, I make my way to the side and start filming and taking photos. Shacks line the way towards the palace and random klongs glide by. When we arrive at the temples, we head directly for the street market and partake in the chaos of the afternoon.

It's decided: we're taking a tuk-tuk back to the hotel after we get off the return klong. Dusk has begun to set in and I'm dying to share in the tuk-tuk experience.  The bargain reached is: 100 baht directly to the hotel with no "sponsor" stops. The driver keeps good on the deal. The ride is crazy and rules of the road do not apply to this little motorized, canopied bike. The death-defying part of the ride is thrilling. Dodging traffic and near misses with other cars. WOW...talk about a reminder that you're alive. But, we arrive at the hotel safely.

That night, Deezy and I go out for dinner in the "downtown" area and then pass through the street market set up at night. The night is alive. All the young folks litter the sidewalks. The homeless come out in the hopes of scoring dinner. Rats invade the gutters and grab fallen scraps from the street vendors' carts. The night market is somewhat sophisticated. It's a real market area and everything is for sale - t-shirts, bags, jewelry, food, souvenirs. Folks are gathered in masses and more Westerners, appearing to be European, are seen on this night. We make our way back to the hotel close to midnight knowing that tomorrow afternoon we leave for the island of Koh Samui.