One Night In Bangkok

With only one night in Bangkok (due to aircraft maintenance complications,) I decided to forgo a hotel for the night and to instead, explore the city. I figured that this would also be a pretty good way to begin to remedy my 12 hours worth of jet lag. After clearing customs around 1am, I killed another three hours at the airport, then headed out to see for what I had in store.

The morning started off well with the intoxicatingly fresh air in Lumphini Park. I found myself waiting just outside of the ornate front gate among the eager Qi Gong Thais ready to start their morning exercise routines at 4:30am.

After sitting, relaxing, consulting a map, and taking in all of the beauty of the dew-drenched surroundings, I headed down to check out the Khlong Toei Market. Already in full-swing before 6am, the market had so much to offer. I was ready to dive in and explore new gustatory grounds but not only were most items completely unidentifiable. Additionally, how to go about eating them was a mystery to me. Do I eat it raw? Do I peel it first? Do I eat the seeds? No clue. And there was nobody around with the adequate language skills to explain it to me. So I ate an apple.

The combination of the incessant drizzle and the carrying of all of my possessions for the month on my shoulders was becoming a bit much for me. (Side note: it's no fun to have my enormous bag metal-detected and searched every time I enter the subway.) How far is one expected to be able to walk with one of those things on his back?

I ditched the bag (with the woman at the train station who promises to look after your bag in exchange for $3. The minimal fee certainly did not clear from my mind, the concern that she had a full twelve hours to break into my bag, root through, and take what she wanted,) and headed to Chinatown. Never before have I seen alleys so narrow, cramped, and scary. At least there was a bit more daylight at this hour. Just when feeling as cramped as possible, a motor scooter driver would abruptly creep up from behind and manage to squeeze through an opening barely die enough to git a human pelvis. Lonely Planet directed me down one particular alley which was clearly not for public use. I had a first-hand glimpse into the lives and homes of the natives. A teenager looked at me distrustfully as I approached. He said "Where are you going?" "Just walking," I replied. I walked only about fifteen feet before realizing that I was encroaching on his family's territory so I squeezed passed him again on my way in the opposite direction. I wound up seeing this same boy several hours later as he was manning the family food cart. Our eyes met and he clearly recognized me. He looked at me as though I was on some sort of reconnoissance mission … hunting a fugitive on the run.

The food at the street vendors looked so yummy & enticing. But my Thai is not fluent enough to ask what it is and their English, not good enough to reply. I imagined that they'd be more compassionate but, when i asked if they spoke English, most of the time they'd just laugh. Lonely Planet informed that most city-folk would speak English but I've encountered only one since leaving the airport.

You can imagine my excitement (mouth watering and belly grumbling [you're right Jena: Grumble-Pants Totaro],) when I finally found a guy whose wares appeared to be 100% from the ground rather than from an animal. Four or five varieties of mushrooms, all sorts of greens, and a blend of muddled rice, ground spices, and all sorts of re-used plastic water bottles filled with a rainbow-variety of sauces. Finally: I was ready for Thai street food. I paused as I tried to turn a cheek when a woman with a rash on her face dunked the ladle into the pot and took a few sips. She added some from another mystery bottle then sipped again, apparently adding just the right amount for taste-bud perfection. However, that was hardly my idea of perfection. I tried; I honestly did. But I couldn't take my eyes off of her blistery, red face and wonder what else she could have contributed to the bubbling blend. I walked away with my tail between my legs. My lunch instead, consisted of cashews and a couple of grilled plantains and miniature banana-looking things. I was on the search for some durian but nobody could linguistically comprehend what I was seeking. Heading to the area known for its vegetarian options was on the agenda but — among other things including the stretch of Chinese medicine shops, coffin makers, and bird-nest soup vendors — this was omitted due to exhaustion. My legs hurt like they've never hurt before. The back-pack from earlier in the day, the aimless Chinatown circles, the puffy airplane ankles. I think they were all contributing.

I had to do something with my body because I was a mess. After a $16 Bikram class and an $8 Thai Massage, I was functioning better. The massage did wonders to alleviate some of the edema from my ankles. There's something about the backpack which must be throwing off my entire gate. My hip rotators & abductors are completely thrashed. Additionally, there's clearly some excessive weakness in my low back. I was shocked today in class, when I barely had the strength to do Locust or Full Locust. Another surprise during class, was when I was woken from Savasana by the voice of the teacher who had already started the following class. I tried to duck out with as little disruption as possible. A 13-hour flight on Thursday, a 7-hour flight on Friday, and a 12-hour train ride on Saturday. In about three hours, I'll be off of this train and be able to finally cease lugging this bag with me everywhere I go. If everything goes well, I'll be checked into my little apartment by noon.