An American in Asia: His Quest for Cosmic Truth (or at least a Decent Espresso)

 

Bangkok

A week after my arrival in Bangkok in 2003, I'm sitting on the balcony of my one-bedroom apartment, enjoying the relief of a warm breeze on a hot afternoon.

The view from my balcony isn't much, but hey, it's a balcony!

Later on I've got to hop in a long-boat and go up the canal to teach a Japanese housewife how to speak English at her husband's office parties.

For now I can lounge on my blue deck chair, next to a blue ceramic planter full of water lilies and goldfish.

One of the things I like about Thai gardens and temples is the giant ceramic pots filled with water lilies and fish, so as soon as I got settled, I put one out on the balcony along with some native plants.

My balcony garden is complete. I'm a little worried by some yellow leaves on my jasmine tree, but I think it's just over-watering.

The apartment was built in the 70's and looks it. Some people might find all the wood and tile tacky, but it packs big-time nostalgia for me, since I had my childhood in the 70's. Anyway, it's exactly what I imagined for myself as I flew over from New York two months before.

That plane flight was fairly hideous. Northwest Airlines promised to get me here in 16 hours, which sounded reasonable despite their famously awful food. In the end, they didn't even get me out of the New York in 16 hours. The whole trip stretched to 48 hours with a six-hour layover in Tokyo, but since the journey began in below-zero snow and ended in the tropical 90's, I didn't mind so much. I hear it took Magellan a bit longer.

The balcony from inside. These doors are always open to let a breeze through. I don't like air conditioning.

Taxis, motorcycles, trains and boats are incredibly cheap here but, just the same, I spend a lot of time walking just as I did when I lived in Tokyo. I've got to dodge some gaping holes in the concrete here and there, but I'm rewarded with at least three fairly thought-provoking sights on every walk; elephants, giant bugs, geckos, touts, vendors, tourists from all over the globe and lots of smiles and warm vibes from the Thais.

I don't spend a lot of time talking to deities, but I always feel a wave of profound gratitude for simple things like good food and at least once a day I have to thank everyone responsible for the gift of my hard-working legs. I walk up to 20 kilometers a day, and never less than two. I'd guess a good average would be 5km of daily pavement pounding, rain or blistering heat irregardless. It's really the joy of my life. My general policy is, if my destination is less than 2 train stops away, I walk. More than that is a toss-up, but if I can walk there in less than an hour, it's definitely an option. Staying cool is a challenge but if I can manage to shrug off my Western tendency to be in a rush, pace my breathing and enjoy, I don't break much of a sweat.

The view inside from the balcony. I love my balcony.

Time for class, I walk to the canal about 500 meters up the road. Street dogs lie here and there, already exhausted by the heat and lazing like mangy sausages across the sidewalk. They look rabid and evil but they are so lazy, the only real danger they pose is tripping unwary pedestrians.

Close to the river under a corrugated plastic roof, vendors are selling really great Thai food for around 20 Baht a plate. That's about half a buck, American. Everything that really matters is cheap here.

Other vendors sell small bags of sliced, watermelon, papaya, cantaloupe and pineapple for 10 Baht. I sit for a couple minutes and eat watermelon for breakfast.

Outside in a grassy lot a noisy bunch of roosters and chickens play their favorite hits under wicker domes. A steady stream of well-dressed Thais emerge from nearby riverside shanties to catch their boats to work.

A canal taxi.

I cross the bridge to join them, waiting on a dock for the next longboat. The first one is full but 5 minutes later another one comes. I grab the rope and hop on as it bumps briefly against the pier. I clamber along the gunwale holding onto a rope and find a seat next to a young nurse.

You have to pay this guy 7 Baht or he'll throw you into the canal.

The boatman comes along and I pay him 7 baht to shoot me up the canal a couple kilometers. When we fly over the wake of passing boats, the passengers draw up a plastic tarp to block the spray from the rather ripe-smelling canal.

I jump off when the boat slows (they never fully stop) at my pier. Way faster than a taxi, especially at rush hour. The Disneyland jungle cruise has nothing on this ride.

I pass up the motorcycle taxi stand near the pier. It's only another 500 meter walk to the apartment of my student. There is nothing much to see on that stretch, but while I do enjoy the thrill of weaving between angry taxis for 10 baht, walking is just fine.

As I pass over the bridge, I am treated to a view of a man drying fish on baskets by the road while great plumes of exhaust waft over them. I've never been much for buying a dried fish from a guy on the street and now perhaps even less so.

Showers here are like in Japan. No hot water tank. That box heats the water as it comes in. You don't have to pay for heating a tank of water all day, and you never run out of hot water.

At class, my student's English is pretty rudimentary and I end up speaking a lot of Japanese to make explanations.

Usually I don't do that but she is extremely nervous about her first lesson and I think it is quite a relief for her to know that we could use Japanese if need be. Next class I'll be tougher.

On the way home, I notice a bunch of the boat passengers walking across the open lot to a little pathway along the river.

I wonder if it might be a short-cut to my street so I follow them. I leave some discrete space so it won't look like I am so obviously following them.

As a result, I find myself lost in the middle of a maze of shanties with no one in sight. I don't think anyone wants a tall skinny white guy blundering onto their home, so I retrace my steps back to the road. I'll have to try that route again sometime. Maybe see if I can find the exit from the other side.

I have a terrible memory for things like names and other things like words, numbers, chemical elements, humans, animals, plants and air. But for some reason I have a great memory for places. If I have been anywhere even once, I can always find it again even years later.

The good Middle-Eastern falafel stand around the block from Prince's club in Minneapolis where I played a rock show 6 years ago? No problem. I know exactly where it is.

The little secret basement room that is the only place you can buy and drink alcohol in Tokyo Disneyland? I went there only once and I got drunk but ask me again in 60 years and I'll dig through the post-apocalyptic ruins and find it. Coupled with my walking, I'd have to say that it's my best talent.

Walking is totally undervalued. I won't even start on bicycles, which I love with almost religious zeal. I always shout along when the Portland punk band, New Bad Things, holler, "This bike is bound for freedom!" But Bangkok is not a biking town.

There's barely room for a pedestrian, and the crumbling sidewalks would destroy the sturdiest mountain bike in a week. The streets are filled with taxis and busses all yearning to bring a painful death to anyone foolish enough to step off the sidewalk.

The hallway outside my place. A big gecko hangout. Those windows never shut because you always want fresh air blowing through.

One of the many nice things about being an expatriate, aside from the romantic sound of that word (thanks Ernest H.), is being in another country with a bunch of other expatriates. When I run into English speakers, they could really be from anywhere.

Yesterday evening I helped a Chinese guy get to his hotel. Later at a bar, two guys from Libya said they liked my style after I congenially beat them senseless at eight-ball. Free beer for me for the rest of the evening.

Now it's 2:30pm. In a couple of hours every street in the city will smell like really good food. I have another class at 5pm in the same building so it will be back on the boat.

I drank too much beer last weekend so tonight I'll just come home, maybe pick up a cheap DVD from a street vendor on the way. Dinner will be spicy noodles at the stand in front of my apartment. For dessert, I'll go to the fruit guy at the next stand and he'll cut up a pineapple and a watermelon into neat cubes and give them to me for 20 Baht.

After two months in Bangkok, I'm thinking it's a cool town and I'm a lucky guy.

Aaah, back on the balcony.

More pictures of Bangkok