Winter 2002
Monday April 1, 2002: Some Like It Hot
It’s a good thing the Easter Bunny doesn’t hide eggs in Thailand. They would, without a doubt, melt into deformed pools of foil and chocolate... It is 40 degrees today.
Easter draws to a close, and I must admit the only Eastery thing I have done was to buy a bag of M&M’s yesterday, and to drink grape flavoured Gatorade today. The grape Gatorade didn’t clense me of my sins, but it did quench my thirst much better than wine or a sponge full of vinegar would have.
Roger returns today, so my non-task of taking care of The Swamp Thing will end. I must say though, Brandy is a natural bird dog, at home in the water... and she’s a good dog. Just a bit... wet.
I will head back to Smurf Village now... Feed Swamp Thing and play some Command and Conquer. It looks like it might rain. Which, considering the heat, would be nice.
Sunday March 31, 2002: Easter?
It doesn’t actually seem like its Easter Sunday. Maybe because it’s hot and sunny... Or maybe because I spent the day swimming in the ocean. I suppose I could have some kind of “special“ Easter dinner, but the whole exercise seems sort of pointless. I will instead do what I would normally do, go eat some Thai food, then go back to Smurf Village. Brandy the swamp loving dog while be waiting for her dinner.
Friday March 29, 2002: Dog Food
I spent the day at the beach. I am burned.
I got back to Smurf Village at 7:30 pm and found a note on my door from Roger. He had to head up to Bangkok so he asked me if I could feed his dog Brandy. So, I gave Brandy her dinner and watched a VCD. I borrowed James’ Play Station so I expect this weekend will be a marathon of Command & Conquer.
Tuesday March 26, 2002: Thunder!
Walking home last night from Central Samui, I noticed these weird flashes in what appeared to be the clear evening sky. I thought it was odd, but I figured it was lights, or fireworks. When I got to the dirt road that runs up the middle of Smurf Village, I noticed all these frogs sitting as if waiting for the Frog Mother Ship. A couple had been run over. I had never seen them like that before (sitting on the sand, not run over) and thought “that’s odd”.
I watched (or forced myself to watch while I practiced guitar) “Behind Enemy Lines”, which was a load of rubbish in my opinion. Nato’s bad, America is good... American technology saves the day... please. American pilot gets shot in the shoulder with a 7.62 sniper rifle yet still manages to leap from a cliff and grab on to some super-marine dangling from a fast rope. Never mind the fact that a bullet that size would have broken most of the bones in his shoulder... Oh I could go on for hours. American pilot running shooting his little pistol, holding it SIDEWAYS... Oh how THAT winds me up. I can put up with halfwit gangstas holding their pistols incorrectly because they don’t know any better... but tell me that someone in the military is going to do that? Let’s fire our pistol in the most inaccurate way possible and that will increase the possibility of it jamming. Enough. The movie sucked. The extra-special forces guys didn’t even have their camo paint on properly. (Nose is dark, eyes are light... bring the shadowed areas forward, the forward areas back so it appears flat. Don’t forget behind your ears!)
I went to bed early and was woken during the night by the biggest, best thunderstorm I have heard in a long time. The rain was pounding down in that tropical way, and the sound was amazing. Every little while there would be a flash of lighting and a big crash of thunder. I must say that I really enjoyed it. I slept sort of oddly, drifting off for a few hours, then waking from a dream, then lying listening to the rain on the palm trees and the roof. Then, I’d drift off again. I had some wonderfully intense dreams, which was a nice change from the weird fever dreams I have become far too used to.
Not very much occurred today. When I got up at around 7:00 am, the sky was blue and the ground was almost dry. It was a very hot day too. I went for a swim at Central later in the day, and took my supper at the Thai Restaurant which has no English name. The small bar downstairs was playing David Bowie’s “Hunky Dory”, which is one of my favorite albums of all time. It was so nice to sit, eat, watch the sky grow dark and listen to it playing.
I received an email today from Clive and Ivona in Prague. That was a nice surprise.
Sunday March 24, 2002: Sunny, Rainy, then Sunny
I spent a few hours late Saturday afternoon mucking about with my P202. I recorded a few ideas. I will listen to them in a month and decide if they are good or not. The only problem with that is even if they are good, I’ll have forgotten exactly what I was doing. I watched a bit of the “Harry Potter” movie on VCD. It was okay, I guess. My overly Pentecostal upbringing made me mildly uncomfortable watching it. I was still feeling sort of feverish and weird, so I went to bed early.
I got up today at 9:00 am and went to the Hot Bread Bakery for my regular “American Breakfast #13”; which is scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. I also had one of their amazing banana shakes, and a hot tea. From there I headed over to Central Samui and got a good spot by the pool. It was sort of a weird morning. When I arrived it was nice, sunny and hot. I went for a swim out in the ocean and the water was the calmest I’ve seen it in weeks.
I fell asleep listening to my Walkman, and then woke with the feeling being cold. It had become dark, and these big storm clouds were rolling in towards us. You could see the rain moving across the bay towards us. Everyone was scrambling around like they were made of sugar, gathering up there things and trying to beat the downpour. I had an umbrella beside where I was sitting, to protect me from the sun, so I just hung my little MEC bag and t-shirt inside it, and sat my book on the wooden spokes. Then I went for a swim. It rained very hard for quite a while, but since I was swimming anyways, I wasn’t overly worried about getting wet.
Eventually the storm passed and I went for another swim in the ocean. I came back in and people were beginning to return to the beach and pool area. It took about 10 minutes for the water to evaporate. I read, slept and swam for the rest of the afternoon. I feel better than I have in nearly a week, but I will go to sleep early to ensure this is done with.
Saturday March 23, 2002: Update
I haven’t been feeling very well the last few days. It seems to be passing now. I slept from 8:00 pm last night until 10:30 am today. Strange dreams of snow, and of going to Saskatoon. A nightmare of parasites moving through my body and having to cut them out with a knife. A dream about walking on cobblestone. Meaningless bits and pieces of these dreams still linger but will no doubt be gone in an hour or so.
I have just dropped off my laundry, and am now on my way to eat breakfast before I go to the beach (and sleep some more).
I have been very seriously considering discontinuing my journal, however enough of you have made it clear that it would be missed, that I am going to continue it. My entries may or may not be as frequent though.
Wednesday March 20, 2002: Big Waves
There was NO going in the ocean today. The water was dark and angry looking, and there were HUGE waves crashing in. I worked out, then lazed by the pool and had a swim. There was hardly anyone out on the deck chairs except me. It wasn’t cold or rainy, just windy and a bit overcast. I didn’t really mind that though. I just sat out, and looked over the waves and listened to The Rheostatics “Double Live” on my Walkman. I took a jacuzzi later, and watched the moon rising.
Tonight I walked down to The Deck and pigged out on a Deck cheese burger. I think I managed to eat it all in a record breaking five minutes. I sat there for awhile and wrote in my real journal (ha! and you thought you were getting all the dirt on my activities!!) then headed up to McDonald’s for a Taro Pie. Resistance IS futile. After that I made my way back up to the place I check my email.
It occurred to me tonight that nearly everyone here is drunk or stoned. I forget that I am surrounded by TOURISTS, all trying to burn themselves beyond recognition and suck back enough cheap beer to insure a happy holiday. As for the young folk, with their steam-powered music and strange ways...
Tuesday March 19, 2002: Itchy And Scratchy
My sun burn from the weekend is now at that special stage...
ITCHY!!
Monday March 18, 2002: Birthday Dinner
Last night at about 10:00 pm some German tourists came pounding on my door. I think they must have gone through all of Smurf Village hammering on doors and I was either the only person home, or the only person stupid enough to get up and answer. They rudely asked if I they could rent a house, and who to call. I told them I had no idea and to go look at the number posted at the entrance and call that... But there might be no one there since IT’S TEN THIRTY AT NIGHT! They huffed and puffed and stomped back to their tank or whatever they pulled up in. Has no one informed these folk that they DIDN’T take over the world?
Today it was Roger’s Birthday so I joined him and his friends, commonly referred to as the “Brookside Boys”, for some Italian food. I have been searching for some good ravioli, and at last I have found the place to get it. We ate at a restaurant just down from The Deck called Toto’s. The food was quite good. I rode down with American Dave, and James in Dave’s jeep. Roger and Joe went on their scooters. We met everyone at 8:30 pm. Bar Man Neil and his girlfriend were also there. It was a good dinner. Roger got a little chocolate pudding dish at the end of it all with one candle stuck in it. Everyone scrambled to fire up their high-tech 500 dollar digital cameras before he blew it out. I just stuck to my 700 piso throw-away 35mm. Point and shoot. No brains required, and I don’t care if I lose it. The candle had to be relit for the digitals.
Sunday March 17, 2002: Sunburnday
I had some rather odd dreams last night. Sandy Moon dressed in a dog costume? Two Megans instead of just one? Snowy Brady making a mess in the kitchen? Not even the eldest of the elders of the aboriginals could explain those ones. (If you have any ideas or interpretations please post them in my guest book).
I woke up at 6:00 am. I think this means I have adjusted to the times here. I fall asleep when its dark, and I wake up when the sun comes up. A schedule that no Goth could handle. Perhaps that is why this island is thankfully a “Goth free zone”.
I had breakfast at this little sandwich shop just near Central Samui. It’s one of the few places in Asia I have found that can make a good scrambled egg. It is also significantly cheaper than The Deck, and also has the most wonderful Banana milk shakes for only 35 baht. I ate, then headed over to Central Samui for a swim. I spent the entire day there. I would alternate between swimming, sleeping, reading and buying ice teas from the drink vendor who walks up and down the beach with an icebox full of drinks. I had the worst craving for a beer. But... Doctor’s orders... At 3:30 pm, I moved my stuff up to a deck chair by the pool. I stayed there reading, swimming in the pool, and listening to my walkman until 5:00 pm. Then it was on to the Jacuzzi and back to get changed. I had some food at the small Italian place I first discovered last summer, “Piccola Italia” and then picked up my laundry.
Now it’s time to go and put something soothing on the backs of my legs...
Saturday March 16, 2002: Sand Deposit
The waves are all gone. Whatever was stirring up the Gulf Of Siam has dissipated. I went to Central Samui beach at noon today. I changed at the Health Club, then grabbed a towel and walked down to the sand. The water was so calm compared to a week ago. I grabbed a beach chair under a tree, put my stuff there and then went for a nice swim. The first thing I noticed as I went in was that I could walk and walk and walk, and the water never went up above my thighs. All that wave activity had obviously dumped a great amount of sand up along the shore. I went out beyond where I had run into trouble a week ago and the water was still only up to my chest. It was very strange to float on my back in the same spot that a week ago I was calling for help. The only waves were those little bumps you get when some half-wit on a jet ski goes whipping by just beyond the swimming buoy.
I stayed in for quite a while, then returned to my shady spot to listen to music and relax. Everyone else on the beach had dragged their chair out to the blistering sun light in an attempt to brown themselves before rushing back to whatever cold, miserable European country they have come from. I know that I will still get a tan even if I am under the shade of a big tree, and I prefer the coolness of it. I bought a few iced teas from a beach vendor, I read and lazed the afternoon away. At around 4:00 pm, I moved up to the pool area and went for a swim there, before having a nice hot jacuzzi. Then I headed inside, changed and headed for a cheap yummy dinner at the rooftop Thai restaurant that is conveniently located next to the Bikini Shop.
Friday March 15, 2002: The Idle Of March
I was woken up today by Roger and James’ dogs yip, yap yapping out on my porch. I thought perhaps a dodgy Thai had climbed over from the neighboring shanty and was trying to break in. I rushed out to see what all the commotion was... to find the two dogs barking fiercely at a big old tomcat that was sitting on the railing of my porch, enjoying the sunshine. The dogs, as ferocious as they might have sounded, were a safe two meters away. The cat sat there, its paws curled up under its chest, unconcerned with a look of indifference to dogs. “Let the heathen roar”, would have been the thought balloon over its head.
I looked at Roger’s dog Brandy and said “All this noise for a cat??” She looked back at me and tilted her head as if that was the dog equivalent for a shrug. Her thought balloon would have probably said “We ARE dogs....” The two dogs sort of sulked away after that and proceeded to romp down the main dirt road of Smurf Village, no doubt looking for garbage bags to rip open or foot mats to tear to pieces.
Sunday March 10, 2002 : Back In Again
I must say that sleeping last night was difficult. Physically, it shouldn’t have been. I was exhausted and my body ached all over. It might have been the annoying Karaoke Countdown going on in the neighboring Shanty town, but I think it was a combination of my mind replaying the day’s events and the feeling as I lay in bed that I was still in the water. I remember as a kid after a day of skating or bike riding I would feel as if I was still doing it... This was a similar feeling but not as pleasant. Also unpleasant was the burning sensation down my throat and windpipe, and this morning’s exercise of hacking up what I presume to be sea water.
I managed to wake up at 5:30 am, my watch alarm beeping away in the kitchen, where I had taken it off. I was up for a bit, then I went back to sleep until 11:30 am. I got up, showered and then headed off to The Deck and had my breakfast. I wrote, drank tea and watched the world go by. Eventually I walked back to Smurf Village and practiced guitar. I made some tea and sat out on the porch, eating sunflower seeds and wishing I had some “Yes” to listen to. “Close To The Edge” would have been perfect for such a sunny lazy afternoon. Roger and James’ dogs pestered me and frolicked about on the grass, and the afternoon sort of rolled along. Eventually I took a nap and slept until 5:00 pm.
When I woke up, I couldn’t really figure out if it was morning or evening. I got up, showered again, and went off to Central Samui. I saw Roger and James as I was heading out. They were coming back from somewhere in Roger’s rented jeep. I walked over to Central Samui Health Club and went for a swim.... in the ocean.
I sort of had intended NOT to go back in. I thought I’d just take a swim in the pool and relax for a bit, but when I saw the waves rolling in and people out playing in them, I realized that if I didn’t go back in now, I might develop a fear similar to the one I had of swimming pools for many years. So I walked down across the sand and into the surf. I didn’t stay out that long, and I certainly didn’t go out as far as I had foolishly done yesterday. I did go in though, and when I came back out, I felt better for it. I swam in the pool afterwards, then sat in the Jacuzzi for quite a while. I took a sauna, then headed out to pick up my laundry and check my email.
Now I will go eat. I have found a small roof top restaurant that is sadly always empty. I can’t figure out why, as its prices are half of what other places are, and the food is excellent.
Saturday March 9, 2002: Famous Last Words
Serves me right, I suppose, for being such a smart-ass in my last entry. It would seem that the universe or God or somebody needs to constantly remind me of my mortality, and it would seem the “burnt hand teaches best method” is the most effective way. The only problem is that every time I actually make it through some frightening experience, I will add it to the legend of me, and (incorrectly) perceive myself as... once again... indestructible.
As you might have guessed by this entry so far, I had a rather unpleasant day at the beach. I have tended to understate illness or bad events in this journal, however the last entry demands that THIS entry be completely truthful.
I got up and went to the Central Samui Resort as usual. I changed, and went out to the beach, claiming a vacant beach chair under a palm tree. Then, like Mr. Smarty-Pants from yesterday’s entry, I tempted fate and waded out in the rough and ready waters. Like yesterday it was a great deal of fun. Unlike yesterday it was sunny and nice out. Also, unlike yesterday... The waves were bigger. After half an hour of foamy frolic, I began to consider the idea of going back in. It was at this point I realized I was in trouble. I was a great deal further away from the shore than I had realized and I was far out enough that I couldn’t feel the bottom. I began to swim back in on an angle to the waves, and soon reached the very edge of where the bottom drops off. It was at this point that I was hit by a wave that would have even messed up Jack Lord’s Hawaii Five-O pompadour hair-do. (how is it I can joke about this?) I was sort of bowled over by it and took in a great deal of salt-water... I came back up only to be knocked over again by the under-tow heading back the other direction. At this point I wasn’t actually in trouble, I supposed. I just couldn’t see and I was coughing up sea water.
I began to swim towards the shore, but was soon caught in this point (I’m sure surfers have some name for it) where all the waves seemed to converge. The was no going forward, although I was managing not to get pulled back out. The only problem was I getting hit from behind by huge waves that would either refill me with sea water, or pull me under, or pull me back, or all of the above. I couldn’t catch my breath, I couldn’t spit out the sea water I’d swallowed and I couldn’t go forward. So, I did what all drowning people do at a certain point. I began to panic.
This event ranks among the top five most frightening experiences of my life. When I was a kid and I almost drowned, it was much more of a calm experience. I was simply sinking and breathing in water, the fear aspect was all after the fact. I was afraid after the teacher pulled me out. This was nothing like that. It was the fear that comes from knowing EXACTLY what is happening, and the certainty that you can’t do anything about it. The realization of “oh this is a problem”, to “shit... this is not good...” to “I am going to drown...” lasted what seemed like ten minutes, but may have been a few seconds. I have honestly no idea how long all this took. I soon began to tire, though, as wrestling with the ocean is a struggle you can not win.
By the time I knew for certain I couldn’t possibly gain the beach on my own, I was hacking and coughing and completely unable to see. Some part of me must have remembered a swimming safety lesson from childhood; I put my right hand over my head and yelled “help”... Between each “help”, that sounded so tiny and small, came a crash of water that knocked me about, scaring me and tiring me even more. It seemed like I called it out a dozen times. Perhaps I did. I have no clear idea really. It took all my energy just to tread water and call out. I had by this point been swept back out beyond the drop-off point. I began to despair. I remember thinking “They can’t hear me...”, then getting hit by another wave. My life didn’t flash before my eyes, nor did I gain any big insights to the universe. I was simply afraid. Afraid as if I were a boy.
I was knocked by another wave, and when it rolled back I was suddenly able to see, which surprised me as I was certain I had lost my contacts. As my sight returned I saw three serious faces swimming frantically towards me, an Aussie woman, and two Thai men. One of the Thais was obviously the lifeguard as he had this little floaty thing. I grabbed on to that and they sort of towed me in. Once on the beach I hacked up a bunch of salt-water, which I am certain was an unpleasant sight. I sort of sat there in the sand in siesa position and coughed and shook. The life guards, and the manager of the Health Club were with me, asking me how I felt. I answered like a typical Thomson male.
“I feel really stupid!”
They gave me some water and talked to me for awhile, just to make sure I wasn’t worse off than I let on, or that I wasn’t about to go into shock or something. Once they were satisfied I was okay I retired to my beach chair. To add to the strangeness of all this, a brown bird, with a yellow bill hopped up to the seat next to me and squawked and chirped at me for a few minutes, then flew off. As if to say “serves you right for being so smug!”
Friday March 8, 2002: The Ocean Doesn’t Want Me Today...
There must have been some kind of storm somewhere. Not here. But there were these scary skies that rolled in at around 5:30 pm, all dark and menacing. The waves that were rolling in would have stripped the trunks off the richest of rich boys, and there was absolutely NO ONE on the beach. There were two Germans splashing around in the surf, so I decided that if the ocean didn’t want them, it would be safe for me to come in.
I could hear the voices of a thousand concerned relatives as I waded out, battling the waves that kept crashing in. These weren’t big Hawaii Five-O waves, but they were much larger than usual and did make walking difficult. Still I could hear the disembodied cries of concern. “You’re not a strong swimmer, be careful...” “Never swim alone...” “Don’t go out too far...”
Quite frankly IF I am to die before my time (what ever “my time” is, and since when is that time ours anyway?) I’d much rather be sucked out to sea and so forth than getting my arm sucked into a machine in a fruit canning factory, or worse, dying of boredom in the True North Strong and Freezing.
An interesting note on the fear of drowning is that I almost drowned on a school outing in grade one. I don’t think any of my family are even aware of that experience.
So replacing the chorus of fear with Tom Waits, I went in up to here...
But the ocean didn’t want me today.
Thursday March 7, 2002: New Shoes
Recently I have spent a great deal of energy searching for replacements for the trainers I bought in Hong Kong during my Christmas 2000 visit. This has not been an easy task. There is an abundance of vendors and markets on the main road, so there was no lack of places to look for new shoes. What there was a lack of was suitable candidates. My choices seemed to be between these half shoe/half hiking boot things that would be fine if I was planning on picking oysters on the rugged West Coast of Canada, or these weird space shoes that sort of scare me a little... or these so called “New Balance” shoes, which are nothing more than the EXACT same design of runners that existed in the late 70’s. Complete with the same sole/heel design that I remember giving way after 5 months and collapsing in on itself. (Wasn’t that why they changed the design?)
I managed to find a pair of Vans that I liked but then I encountered the age old Asia issue of size. Each pair that was brought out of the back to me was exactly the same size, despite the fact the size said 44, 45, or even 46... a 42 just won’t fit. In the end I found a pair of Adidas basketball shoes that weren’t too ugly and fit. A great relief for only 2000 baht.
Other than that... it is sunny, warm and the ocean is beautiful.
Sunday March 3, 2002: First Night In Smurf Village
Last night I went out to the Japanese Restaurant at Central Samui Resort with my next door neighbor Roger, a Brit originally from Hong Kong, his British friend James, and an American named David. It was a good dinner, although I wasn’t terribly hungry. They invited me out to a club afterwards, however I declined the offer, as I was tired from too much sun, and can’t drink anyways. Perhaps next weekend.
I slept like a baby in my new bed. I had the kind of intense dreams that fresh air brings, which is preferable to the kind that high fever brings. In one dream I was visiting Toronto, but only for a week, and I was walking up towards The Grapefruit Moon. It was morning and I was quite pleased with myself, as I knew I was about to surprise Sandy, who was unaware of my return.
I managed to sleep in until 11:30 am. Once up and showered, I headed off to The Deck. I wore my walkman, which seems to discourage Taxis, Motorbike Taxis and vendors of all sorts from bothering me. I had my usual breakfast, which was, as usual, excellent. After I had eaten, I sat, drank tea, and read until 2:30 pm. NYC Aaron stopped by briefly, on his way to his new apartment, located in the same building I stayed in last summer.
I went to Central Samui Resort later in the afternoon and took a swim in the ocean. I listened to music on my Walkman and lounged on the beach until the sun had sunk low enough that I was chilly. Then I took a long Jacuzzi and read. A routine develops, and I like a routine.
Now it s time for dinner, and I am craving something with rice.
Saturday March 2, 2002: Moving In
I have moved from the guest house into a small two-bedroom house in an area which makes me think of Smurf Village, or Hobbiton. It is made up of a dozen or so small houses, with either one or two bedrooms. The area is well maintained with green grass, flowers and trees. It is also gated off, and I assume there is a guard of some sort at night. My house is at the very back end of Smurf road and is perhaps the best accommodation I have had since LP4 in Manila. At this point, there is no TV, but... who needs TV when I can go swimming in the ocean, or sit by the seaside and read “Lord Jim”? I suppose at some point I’ll get a satellite hook up, just so I can keep track of how the War On Terror is going, and how many Israelis and Palestinians have killed each other this week.
After meeting up with the land lady and getting the keys, I went back to the guest house and checked out of there. A taxi stopped by me as I was heading back to Smurf Village but he wanted 100 baht to drive me there, to which I laughed and just walked away. It is only a 15 minute walk. I “moved in”, and after unpacking my things, I promptly fell asleep until 2:00 pm. I got up and headed out to buy a few things, and grab some food. I had my breakfast at The Deck (at 3:00 pm) then walked back to Central Samui Resort, and went for a swim. As beautiful as the swimming pool is, I can not resist swimming in the ocean. It is just so much nicer. I swam for quite a while, and then sat on the beach until dusk approached. I had a tea up at the little bar, then sat in the Jacuzzi for quite a bit. Then it was time for a shower, sauna and shower, before having my dinner at the little Italian restaurant across the road.
I have found a use for my Prague toque... it makes an excellent tea cozy.
Thursday February 28, 2002: Ocean
I went over to the Health Club earlier today, and instead of swimming in the pool, I took a spot down along the beach. I sat in the shade, swam, snoozed and swam. I haven’t swam in the ocean for a while, and it was amazing. The water was warm and I floated around for quite awhile. I left the beach at around 6:30 pm, had a shower, then took a nice hot sauna in the Club.
Here is a link to a web cam that is about a five minute walk from where I was...
http://www.samuicam.com/java/javacam1.php3
Must go and sleep now... All this seaside air...
Wednesday February 27, 2002: Full Moon
Tonight I went to the Central Samui Resort Health Club for the first time. It was great. I used the gym area, which is slightly larger than the one at The Mandarin Hotel in Manila. Afterwards I took a swim in the huge pool that lays between the resort and the ocean. The pool is unlike any I have ever swam in, being made up of several different sections, which are tied together with these channels lined with palm trees. The whole area is so incredibly designed and landscaped that swimming in it makes you feel as if you are a millionaire. I swam about the pool area for a while then, as the sun set, moved over to the outdoor jacuzzi, which could easily hold 8 people. It is also sunken with palm trees and greenery around it.
When I got in, there were two super buff French speaking fellows chatting up two fit Nordic girls. I stayed well out of the way of the testosteroned peacocks as they attempted to pick up the ladies. They alternated between trying to communicate in broken English and doing these impressive demonstrations of strength and aquatic skill. One fellow would do hand stands then pop back out from under the foam and say “Good, eh? Good, eh?” The girls would giggle and then he’d do it again. I was relieved when they left and I could enjoy the jacuzzi in solitude.
At 7:30 pm, I changed back into my clothes and went to the outdoor restaurant for dinner. I treated myself to a wonderful meal of Japanese food. Since tonight is a full moon, the restaurant was largely empty. There is a monthly full moon party on a nearby island, where I assume many of the guests had taken off to. I enjoyed my food and tea in near solitude, while two Thai musicians played on the stage across from where I sat. One fellow played that strange wood xylophone, while a Thai woman played this beautiful hammer dulcimer. The music was very different than what I had heard on Monday night. The tempo never seemed to move above 70 bpm, and the slow sequences that he played would be echoed on the hammer dulcimer. It was absolutely amazing to listen to. I sat, listened and watched the full moon rise directly across from me, moving up and over the palm trees. There were a few travelling couples around, eating by candlelight and sipping wine.
It occurred to me this evening that at any other time in my life, I would have felt I was somehow missing out on “something” by spending an evening like that alone. I would have looked around at the couples and felt some pang for some ill-fated relationship or other, and written some kind of woe-is-me bunk in a notebook. I felt no such thing this evening. I felt totally content to be there with my own thoughts, and to watch and feel and listen to what was around me. I envied no one, I missed no one, I longed for nothing.
What could this mean?
Tuesday February 26, 2002: Giant Spider Invasion
Just outside of the front entrance to my guest house, in a web constructed between telephone lines and other unnamed cables lives the BIGGEST LIVING SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. It is huge. Now, you’re imaging a hairy tarantula type thing that someone would slip in 007’s silk bed sheets. NO. This is a real scary hard thing, with a black widow shape and a weird body that is yellow on the top. In case I haven’t made this clear... IT’S HUGE. It is easily as big as my hand, its legs being as long as my fingers. It lives in its giant web, ten feet above the pavement of the driveway, waiting to catch something big, or to fall off, land on me, rip my eye out and nest inside my skull. I have no doubt that it bites or stings. I wish I had a proper camera to take its picture. Or a rifle to shoot it with.
Tonight I had dinner at The Deck Restaurant. I had this weird craving for a good burger, and my hunger led me past the many fresh seafood displays until I reached The Deck. I ran into BarMan Neil and his girlfriend from Manila there. They are staying just up the street. I later ran into NYC Aaron as I was finishing my food. He was walking by on his way home. It was Buddha’s Birthday so no alcohol was served anywhere. He staying in the same guest house as BM Neil.
Monday February 25, 2002: Table For One
This afternoon I went over to the Central Samui Resort and joined their heath club/spa. The Resort is directly across from the Guest House where I am currently staying. They have a very well equipped gym as well as a swimming pool next to the ocean that makes the Mandarin Hotel pool in Manila look like a toddler’s plastic turtle pool. Now, I will be able to force myself to work out, but much more importantly I can swim in the pool and lay on the private beach area during the weekends.
I came back over to Central Samui at around 6:30 pm and gave the Health Club a small passport photo for my health club ID card. I had intended to walk down to The Deck, or perhaps even the Captain Kirk Restaurant, but instead I decided to eat at the resort. I walked down past the pool to an outdoor dining area. I was given a small table in the lawn, among the trees that lay between the dining area of the resort, and the beach. I ordered a pot of tea, and waited for the buffet to open at 7:00 pm. The buffet was an all you can eat affair featuring endless amounts of Thai foods. It wasn’t however the remotely like typical North American “buffet” which brings up horrible images of portly families stuffing themselves as if they were about to hibernate for the next 7 years. I sat, alone on the well-kept lawn, in an incredibly comfortable wooden chair with a cushion seat, surrounded by trees and palms. My little table had a small lamp with a candle in it, and many of the trees around me were wrapped in strings of lights. The sky turned a deep blue above me, and the moon, which appeared overly large, hung directly in front of me. To my right was the ocean, and the waves of the incoming tide. It was windy, but not in any offensive cold way. The wind was strong but warm, and carried the most lovely smell I know: the sea. The whole scene had an almost Tolkenish feeling to, as if High Elves themselves would soon be bringing me some magical wine, or reading me poetry.
I tried as many different dishes as I could, and there were quite a few to chose from. I also managed to get to the food before the majority of guests arrived, allowing me to enjoy my meal in relative peace. What could be more peaceful than eating beside the beach, listening to the waves roll in and enjoying the smell and feel of the warm breeze?
At around 8:00 the guests began to roll in, there was some entertainment, in the form of a live Thai traditional band with accompanying Thai dancers. The band consisted of four musicians, two of which played an xylophone-like instrument of tuned wooden bars, which were loosely strung across a colourful guilded bench. These instruments were played with small mallets, the lead one being tuned higher than the second insturment. There was a drummer who played some conga-like drums, as well as a hand percussionist who played small shakers and cymbals. The music was hypnotic and a welcome change from the recording which had been played earlier, of some “traditional” stringed instrument that sounded like a drunk playing “Three Blind Mice” on an out-of-tune banjo.
The Thai dancers were amazing to watch. I have no understanding of Thai dancing, so whether they were any good or not is beyond me, but their costumes, their movements and that natural attractiveness that Thai women have made them beautiful to watch. The players played their hypnotic little sequences, the women danced and weaved around the stage and the tourist snapped photos and ate their meals. The whole time a small Thai girl stayed by the edge of the stage watching the dancers with the utmost enthusiasm, unconsciously mimicking their hand movements, and then rushing back behind the stage to be with them after each dance, and during each costume change.
I stayed there from 7:00 pm until 9:00 pm, drinking potful after potful of tea once I’d eaten enough to satisfy my hunger and my curiosity. It probably reflects on who I am that the traditional music played on wooden acoustic instruments reminded me of Bill Bruford’s electronic drum work in King Crimson during the 80’s, and not the other way around. The tuned percussion’s sound was very similiar to Bruford’s drums and the way the sequences shifted in their time and their intervals also reminded me of King Crimson. I half expected them to break in to “Waiting Man”. I was amazed at how the players could know where they were among all the little repeating Philip Glass-like melodies but there was absolutely nothing random about what was being done. They would lock on to each other, shifting time signatures, and move intervals from octaves to fifths, to thirds to fourths, then they would suddenly change directions or stop on a dime. This was not some rustic primitive “folk music”. This was classical music, as calming and intricate as anything the west has produced.
An absolutely beautiful evening. Now it’s time to sleep.
Sunday February 24, 2002: Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon
I spent the morning wandering along the main road by where I am staying. I am not sure if this road has a name, other than the obvious “main road”... It is lined with small shops, which sell touristy trinkets, sunglasses, hats, silk clothes, bootlegged CD&s and VCDs, as well as anything else you might need on a tropical island. There is also an abundance of “Art Shops” selling paintings and drawings. Why anyone would travel to a hot sunny island and then lug back a huge oil painting is beyond me, but someone must, since there are dozens of these places. There are also lots of oddly named restaurants (“Captain Kirk” being my favorite, complete with a giant picture of William Shatner), as well as Thai massage places, tattoo artists and motor bike rentals.
I went to a place called The Deck, which is a restaurant Geri and I had lunch at last year. I had an excellent English fry-up, complete with really yummy sausages. I sat in the tropical breeze and drank many teas, while listening to whatever trip-hop compilation CD they were playing. I remained in that state for the entire afternoon. Wonderful!
I did a little shopping for things like razor blades, and air mail envelopes, then wandered back to the place where I am staying. Tonight I plan to relax.
Saturday February 23, 2002: Mai Pen Li
I woke up at 5:30 am with the friendly wake up call that sent Khea off to her home and child. I barely slept last night due to a headache, so I called for a second wake up call at 9:00 am. Which never came. I woke at 10:30 am, realizing that Anand would be by at 11:00 am to collect me for the airport. I quickly showered and packed my stuff up. I checked out at 11:15 am.
Geri has been talking about “Super Burger” for a while. It’s a fast food place that only seems to exist in the departure terminal of the Bangkok Domestic Airport. I could never figure out why she always went on about it... Now I understand. After I had checked in and got my boarding pass I stopped by Super Burger and had, of course, a Super Burger. Let me say that the burger was indeed SUPER. In fact I’d say it was the best burger I have ever had in a fast food place. Thanks for the tip, Geri.
My flight to Koh Samui was wonderful. I floated above the blue ocean and puffy clouds listening to my Walkman while the sun shone. The view upon landing was spectacular. We came in along the beach, over palm trees and moared fishing boats until the little turbo prop bumped down at the airport. As the 10 year old kid behind me noted, “this airport doesn’t have much does it, Mom?”
We were transported to the terminal that Gilligan, The Skipper and the Professor built where I was picked up by Geri’s friend Mr Waffer. He then took me to the guest house where I am staying.
So, here I am. On an island in the Gulf Of Siam...
I sat outside and drank a tea. It was sunny, the breeze was wonderful, making it feel like a nice summer day. How do you cure the Prague Blahs? Leave. How do you recover from 2001? Go to Koh Samui and... just take it easy.
Thursday February 21, 2002: One Week
I met Geri again last night at Larry’s Dive. It was another good night of food and conversation. It’s weird to think that a week ago, I had been out with Ivona and Clive. We stayed at Larry’s until about midnight, then I headed off to meet Khea.
Khea left at 6:00 am, and once again I had my breakfast at the coffee shop, then headed to the pool at 8:00 am. By noon, the pool area had filled with German tourists and their frolicking kids, loud mouth Farang sporting mullets and hair pieces, and creepy men who slithered about in tiny bikini brief swim wear. I retreated to my room.
Later I went out and changed some money, and made some arrangements for a flight to Koh Samui this weekend. I am hoping that after the Prague misadventure, Koh Samui will hold a bit more promise than it did for me last year. Tonight I went and saw a movie. Khea showed up at my place at 1:20 am.
Tuesday February 19, 2002: Visitors
Last night I met up with Geri at Larry’s Dive. We had some nachos, hung out, talked and had an excellent evening. Sean the manager was around and talked to us when his duties permitted him. We stayed there until about 11:00 pm then headed our seperate ways. I met up with Khea.
Today was a do-nothing sort of day. I got up when Khea left and saw her off. I had a breakfast in the Federal Hotel’s coffee shop, then at 8:00 am when the pool opened, I claimed a spot well ahead of the rush. I swam, read, listened to my Walkman and dozed in the sun until noon.
Tonight at around 6:00 pm, Khea showed up with Baby K. We walked out to Soi 11 and went for some dinner at a little outdoor Thai affair. I have no idea what we had. Soup, rice and meat. It was all quite good, though. Baby K was as any or most 2 year-olds will be. Willful, hyper, into everything, and incredibly cute. We ate, then went back to my place and hung out. Baby K felt that the bed was perfect for jumping on (and was correct) and no amount of weird Japanese children’s shows could distract her from that. Khea seemed exhausted by it all. Apparently I am not the only one who’s a “bad monkey”. They stayed until 9:30 pm then headed off. I saw them to a cab then went to Mar’s Bowl to check my email.
Sunday February 17, 2002: Pick A Pocket
On my way to meet Khea last night I was accosted by two “lady boys”, which is the Thai equivalent to transvestites. Now, perhaps it’s a North American thing to view men who dress up as women as at best “campy” or at worst “humorous”... In Thailand, however, it is best NOT to think of them as singing, dancing comic relief.
I attempted to steer clear of them as I approached, but one of them was on me right away, assuming perhaps that I was drunk. Grabbing onto my arm he began his attempt to pitch me for sex, with the standard “oh you handsome man” nonsense that all white men get no matter how bald, fat or ugly they might be. I shrugged him off and continued on. Not to be denied whatever Baht notes that happened to be in my pocket, he came running back up to me and, while grabbing my knackers in his right hand, picked my Doc Martin’s trademarked money clip from my left pocket.
I hit Mr. Transvestite in the solar plexus with the palm of my hand as hard as I could, which sent him stumbling backwards, winded and very surprised. Farang are generally drunk, stupid, and slow moving. Getting whacked in the chest was not something he had been expecting. I immediately checked my pocket, and upon finding it was indeed empty, I began shouting as loud as I possibly could at the startled Lady Boy.
“YOU JUST TOOK MY MONEY! GIVE ME IT BACK RIGHT NOW!!!” and so on. The other Lady Boy was running up, but didn’t get too close to me. There were a bunch of Thai commuters standing at the nearby bus stop watching all this unfold. The two Lady Boys were both clearly shocked at how pissed off I was, and surprised that I had even noticed the theft so quickly. I closed in on the thief and demanded he open his purse, which he was cradling oddly in his left arm.
During all this I had two thoughts running through my head. One was something my Cop friend Henry once told me. “Never fight with a transvestite, they’re strong like a guy and fight like a woman...” The second thought was what happened to a certain English fellow I know who got in a scuffle with two trannies and ended up getting thrown in some rat infested third world jail over night. Those things aside, I was NOT about to let this event to be added to the already overly long list of “shitty things that happened to me over the last 12 months”. As Superdry would have said, I was having none of it.
The Lady Boy opened his purse and while looking in it, I saw that he was standing on my money clip. He had clearly dropped it on the ground at some point, and was waiting for me to give up and go before collecting it. This would explain his reluctance to just run away even when I closed in on him and began shouting and throwing a fit. There it was, poking out from under the left toe of his ridiculous high heel shoes.
“Ah HAH!”
I swooped down and pulled it out from under his foot. I waved it under his nose and said “NICE TRY YOU BASTARD!” I pulled my camera out to try and snap a shot of them for the Web page. Sadly the batteries were too low to charge the flash before Lady Boy and pal went clickity-clacking off towards Soi 22. They ran off in that stumbling way that only a man in high heels can do while trying to cross an unlit broken and cracked third world sidewalk. YOU GO GIRL.
I only had 1500 Baht in the clip, but... It also held my safety deposit box key for the hotel, which if lost carries a 1000 Baht fine. Also that money clip is the only thing that I got of value from that HORRIBLE Rhea’s Obsession karaoke keyboard tour to New York City in 1998. It was one of the free-bees handed out with a bag of crap to the bands who played at the College Music Journal event there that Autumn. I carry it now not just as a way of keeping lose money together, but as a weir-guild for actually having had survived that awful experience and a reminder to myself that no matter how badly people can treat you, or dismiss you, sooner or later you won’t have to look at them anymore.
With money clip, key and Baht intact, and with some degree of triumph, I met Khea.
Saturday February 16, 2002: Landing In BKK
I adjusted my watch to Bangkok time once we lifted off. They served us a meal and then played a movie called “Zoolander” which was quite funny in that stupid way that appeals to the 8 year old in me. I drifted off to sleep not long after it ended, and woke at what my watch said was 7:30 am. My body disagreed with my watch, but I got up anyways. The whole flight seemed oddly short, even though it was a 11 hour trip. They served us a rather disappointing breakfast, which mostly involved yogurt... Then suddenly it was 1:10 and we were descending into Bangkok.
We landed and pulled up to the terminal, and disembarked. I stood in line for Immigration and passed through that quickly enough, then got my back pack from the luggage belt and passed out through customs. I had nothing to declare, except that I was glad to be back in the Land of Smiles. I changed some cash to Baht, then met Anand who was waiting for me. He took my suit bag, I took my gear, and we walked out into the wonderful warmth and humidity! Oh my. TO BE WARM!!! We went to where he had parked the taxi and off we went. Evergreen was fully booked so I let Anand pick a “cheap” place for me to stay.
We drove in to the city and Anand took me to a small place called The Federal Hotel. It wasn’t a fancy place, and the rooms are quite basic, but it’s clean and it has a nice pool, surrounded by flowering trees. Once I had taken my stuff to my room, showered and changed I went back out to Anand’s taxi and we headed to the PK Restaurant on Soi 18 that we had gone to when I was doing all that running around with the Czech Embassy back in January. It was so great to sit outside, under the shade of an umbrella, drinking a tea and eating some yummy noodles and chicken.
Anand told me that “he felt” I would be back sooner than I had said (I had expected to be in Prague for at least until Christmas... the best laid plans of mice and men...) but hadn’t felt he should say anything at the time. He also went on endlessly about how nice Khea was. Not that I haven’t figured that out myself. It is good to know though, that if he had felt otherwise, he would had probably told me so.
I began to get sort of sleepy at around 5:00 pm, so Anand drove me back to The Federal, and I took a nap. I slept in this really heavy sleep until 8:30 pm. I woke up rather confused as to where I was. I had not told Khea that I was coming back to Bangkok, as that of course wouldn’t be as much fun as just surprising her. I called her up at around 8:45 pm and pretended I was still in Europe, saying how much I missed her, and how I wished I could just jump on the BTS and go see her. Then, I walked over to her work and surprised her 15 minutes later as she played solitaire on the computer in the bar’s office. The look on her face was of total disbelief. She alternated between being overjoyed to see me, and mad at my trick... Her coworkers all thought it was quite funny, although she called me “bad monkey” for the rest of the evening.
Friday February 15, 2002: Prague, Zürich & Onward
I actually slept in today. I got up at around 11:00 am. I had a few things to do before leaving, like change some money to US Dollars, and check my email, and of course try and fit everything back into my Mountain Coop back pack. I hadn’t really bought anything in Prague so it all went back in easily enough... Sort of.
I called for a taxi at 3:00 pm and headed off to the airport. Waving goodbye to my very cool little apartment. The ride to the airport was okay. Typical of any other ride to any other airport I’ve gone to in the last few years. The question of if or when I would come back going through my head. Who knows? Not me.
Prague’s international airport is so lacking in security I couldn’t believe it. Once I had gone through the customs section and had my passport stamped, I didn’t face any sort of x-ray machine or security check until I was about to enter the gate for my flight. My designated gate was A-5 and I went in as a flight to Copenhagen was boarding. This resulted with me sitting on the one side of the security zone, while everyone waiting for the flight to Zürich sat out on the other side. It was here I sat, and fell asleep.
I woke up at 5:50 pm. My plane was scheduled to leave at 5:55 pm... at first I felt a rush of panic thinking that I had missed the boarding, but then I realized that NO ONE had even entered the secure area yet. The security guards told me that the flight was delayed until 7:15 pm. This gave me some concerns as my connecting flight to Bangkok left at 8:55 pm. Then I was informed that the gate had been changed to A-4, and I joined the shuffling masses and made my way there. Everyone was in a panic. I have traveled enough now that I know that there is no point to be. It doesn’t help speed things up, and it doesn’t put you in the good books of the airport staff. Eventually we boarded our flight and left Prague at 7:30 pm.
The flight to Zürich was only 50 minutes. It felt as if the pilot was wasting no time getting there either. I sat by two Czech backpackers, one named Martin, who spoke English. They were also going to Bangkok, as were many of the people on board. The on board video display listed connections that had to be rebooked, and those that were “granted”, thankfully our flight to Bangkok was in the latter category. We landed, disembarked with a great deal of panic, and I headed off to my connection. I was the last person to board flight SR 182, and was scowled at by many of the passengers as I made my way to my seat.
Up, up and away...
Thursday February 14, 2002: Czeching Out
Today I spent the morning wandering around down town looking for a travel agent. You would think that finding a travel agent in such a tourist-infested area would be easy... It was not. The notion of leaving the country perhaps being just too recent of an idea. I did eventually stumble across one... perhaps the ONLY one... I bought a ticket to Bangkok.
I walked back up to my place, the notion of leaving Prague in the next 24 hours lifting some unseen weight off of me. Rheostatics on my Walkman, Mid-Winter Night’s Dream being a perfect sound track for the journey home...
Home?
Another month... this would be home.
Tonight I went to Arco for the last time... I also went out with my two very cool Prague friends Ivona and Clive for a last meal. Ivona is Czech but definitely of the 21st century, and Clive is from the UK via most of the globe. The wealth of conversations I have had with them make this whole Prague misadventure worth the trouble. We met up at this amazing little place near my apartment. I had the most wonderful pasta stuff with chicken... oh my. Prague does have good food... We chatted until closing, then headed out. We said goodbye beside the world’s dorkiest ambulance, which is actually a retired ambulance, but still has all its lights and markings. The owner drives it as his “car“ and seems to think he is actually a paramedic. I think that would be illegal in most places...
Tomorrow I leave. Saturday night I will see Khea. Imagine that.
As Kevin Quain once said...
YOU CANT KEEP A GOOD MAN DOWN
Wednesday February 13, 2002: Fortune
I was going through some stuff and I found the slip of paper with my fortune from Wat Yai Chaya Mongkol on it. I had meant to post it in January but... Now seems like a perfect time.
No. 5 Wat Yai Chaya Mongkol Ayuthaya
“Like a small boat sailing out of the shores, do encounter wave and difficulties. Hopeless to find the destination. Strengthening and brightening up required. Will find good supporters later. At the end of life, completed and happiness. Keep trying hard, success waiting not far away. But now desires not fulfilled.”
Monday February 12, 2002: Psalm 88
The last night was bad. I lay in that all too familiar fever, somewhere so hot that I could feel the heat coming off of me, but somewhere so cold that no amount of blankets could comfort me. In that fever, the worst of several that I have had over the last few days, I hung in suspended between here, there and the otherside. I lay in God’s palm and shook. I thought for certain I was dying.
There was no Small L to talk to me, hold my hand or to keep me “here”. I just dangled there, twirling around like some Christmas ornament. As I slowly moved back out of those places to here, I felt a sensation that was like a thousand volts of electricity were running though me. I awoke, my body still frozen in sleep, laying on my back with my knees drawn up to my chest in a fetal position. My fingers locked together around a pillow that I had clasped to my chest. I ached as if I had fallen from a great height.
I managed to make it through the day. The headache that accompanies all this lingering in the background, waiting for night to come so this process can start all over again.
Sunday February 10, 2002: Weather Report
It feels like it might snow.
Saturday February 9, 2002: Shopping Day
Maggie and Jake are in Prague, and have a place not far from me. This is a good thing as they have become family to me, and I have been brutally lonely here. I headed over to their place after a breakfast at Arco Cafe and joined them for a trip to a shopping mall in Praha 4, across the bridge. It was nice out today, although still a bit cool. We cabbed it and started the mall crawl in a toy store. Jake found a die cast motorbike to buy, and I looked in wonder at the KISS action figures... We circled the mall, checking out various stores and eventually moved on to the second floor.
We had a lunch at McDonalds (no Taro Pies here!!) and then they went to the grocery store, and I went to a book store. There were some English books and I picked up a copy of Joseph Conrad’s “Lord Jim” to read. Jake found me in the book store and announced that instead of food he had bought a mini-pool table with some of his Christmas money. We had to lug it out of the mall and wait while Maggie phoned for a taxi. Eventually our cab showed up and the struggle to fit the pool table, Maggie and Jake into the back seat of the car began. The driver seemed overly worried about Maggie getting her boots on his tacky leopard print seat covers. Once we were all crammed inside we headed back to Chez G Praha while Mr.. Grumpy the driver played snarly heavy metal on his stereo. He cheered up a little when Maggie gave him 200 Kcs.
The pool table was more than JUST a pool table. It was FOUR... FOUR... FOUR GAMES IN ONE...
Billiards, Foosball, Air Hockey, and a Basketball hoop...
So began the task of assembling it. Quite the task it was. The leg part was easy enough... but my goodness, the foosball ball part was almost the death of Maggie and I. The stupid little men had to slide on to these poles, then you had to somehow match the hole that passed from their neck downward to the hole through the pole and drive his little plastic spine through both holes so his head would snap on. This was possibly the most frustrating thing you could imagine. Especially on the dark blue players who’s bodies were too dark to allow you to see the target hole. Maggie and I alternated between laughing and cursing while Jake tried to help, which just gave us more reasons to either laugh or curse. Eventually we gave up and stuck the pool table part on it. Jake played pool in his room and Maggie and I had a tea. I could hear Jake talking and I think he was pretending he was back at Larry’s Dive in Bangkok, shooting pool with his buddy Kevin.
Friday February 8, 2002: Hair Cut
I have come to realize that there are NO barbers in the traditional sense in Prague. The place to get your hair done... is the salon... THIS might explain the abundance of mullets. I found a place on... some road... and went in. I got a very reasonable cut for a very reasonable price. Now I look less scruffy. The lady who cut my hair seemed professionally fascinated by my cow-lick. It was a nice hair cut experience I suppose. Didn’t someone once tell me that “the best hair cut you’ve ever had is the one you’re getting...” no. That was something else they were referring to.
It has been really cold.
The rain has stopped though.
Thankfully.
Wednesday February 6, 2002: Two Weeks
How is that only two weeks ago I was sitting in 34 degree sunshine beside a swimming pool. How is it that just two weeks ago I was with K? How is it that it seems to me now like four months ago?
Today it rained.
Monday February 4, 2002: Inconvenience Stores
Everyone knows that the foundation of the West’s free market system is the corner convenience store. That’s the place where we exercise the most basic form of capitalism. “I am out of milk... I must have a tea... It’s 10:30 pm... WHAT will I do?” Well, thankfully if I live in the free world, the first world or, depending on your view, The Great Satan (which JJ Smallbridge likes to call “THE GREAT SANTA”), I can run down the street to the local convenience store... Sure, the tiny milk container will cost double what it would at the big grocery chain (Sorry Pal, this ain’t Safeway) BUT... I would have my milk, get my tea and the owners of the store have made a living.
Well... This part of the world has only been commie free for about 11 years, and the convenience store situation really reflects that.
The stores are well stocked, and by Western standards the prices are cheap, but there seems to be some leftover shortage of carrier bags. It is as if all the plastic bags had been confiscated during the Marxist era to be used to put surveillance photos in. Asking for a bag to put your 20 bucks worth of goodies in will get you either one sad little bag that looks like it was peeled of a real shopping bag, a blank look, a grunt, or all of the above.
Even the largest chain will expect you to provide your own bags even if you have just spent 10,000 Kcs on food items. This bag stinginess has nothing to do with environmental concerns, either. That would at least justify it. It’s like some weird leftover fear of a possible bag shortage.
It is not just the carrier bags... I have been gradually eliminating certain local shops from my list of places go over the last week because of owner unfriendliness or hostility. Some shop owners just seem so inconvenienced by my desire to spend my money in their little stores. Even the smallest purchase will result in a snarl and a grunt if I don’t provide exact change or if I cause the owner to wake from his slumber. I am tempted to say “I don’t HAVE to come in here you know...” but I think they wouldn’t really care. Maybe the reason the older set long for the colourless dreary days of communist rule is because back in those days they didn’t have to actually do anything. No one came in to shop because, of course, there was nothing to buy.
And one more thing... Were the barbers all shipped shipped to Siberia or something??
Sunday February 3, 2002: Sunday
It has been quite nice over the weekend. Sunny and warm in that early spring way that always brings hope to Canadians. I am beginning to see the city differently. It seems less like a dull grey stone tomb. The subtle beauty is beginning to come across.
I take my breakfasts at Arco Café, which consists of a cereal, milk, toast, cheese, meat and coffee. In a way, it is like being back in Toronto. Once I have eaten I can check my email, then go out and roam and explore.
No barber yet... The search continues.
Saturday February 2, 2002: Warmer
If you want to know what the weather is going to be in Prague, just tune into the soft porn weather update. I stumbled across it on the local Czech station “Nova” one evening while flipping between the 10 channels I get. I was baffled by it. Using high quality “Blues Clues” video effects, the naked weather gives you a view through a fake window while some buck naked woman gets dressed. The next day’s temperature is displayed in the fake window to the side. She starts out nude, then dresses apropriately for the coming day.
Naked weather reports are okay, but having a shop open after noon on Saturday isn’t. Explain that one to me. I remember how happy I was when they got rid of that stupid and annoying law preventing sunday shopping in Ontario. This is more annoying.
I did walk around a lot today. I came to Arco Internet Café and had some Czech breakfast, then checked my email. I went grocery shopping, then went in search of AAA batteries for the PS02 Palm Recorder. I spent the afternoon programming a bass/rhythm track into it. Tonight I completed the idea with guitar and vocals. It stands as the first thing I have done on the recording that I think stands on its own, without the need of being dumped down and added to later... not that I won’t do that anyways...
It was a beautiful day. Warmer, and pleasant in that early early spring way. I had my window open in the afternoon and felt rather good... like I was... Home?
Friday February 1, 2002 : One Week
I am beginning to adjust to being in Europe. My stomach did some adjusting of some sort this week. I think I may have overdone it with the very tasty coffee. Or maybe my guts aren’t used to all the cheese, starchy foods, and bread.
I have begun to establish a routine of sorts, and I have found a good café to hang out in called Arco. It’s about a two minute walk from my place and has a few computers in it. It is the first Internet Café I have ever been in that was actually a café.
I still haven’t found a barber.
Thursday January 31, 2002: Cold
I miss 35°C weather. I miss sitting by the pool. I miss the Evergreen gym. I miss K. I miss Thailand.
The cheese here is good, though.
Monday January 28, 2002: Some Prague Thoughts
I am still learning my way around the city. I went on a major exploration yesterday and today. I have noticed something about Prague. It is the city of Hockey Hair. Now, many of you will know this frightening style as a “Mullet”... but in Prague, there are so many variations on this style that no one name can describe them all... There is the standard type of hockey hair, as well as what I call THE BLOND CLAYTON, which is the standard with a very long back. Another popular look is the LION KING. That is a multilayered affair and will also sport big Elvis sideburns and a mustache for that king of the forest look... But there are so many more looks to choose from. The CZECH UNDERCOVER look, the 80s PURPLE RAIN... Strangely, the one style I haven’t seen here is the one most popular among posturing expats in Bangkok, the MEL GIBSON LETHAL WEAPON.
I am currently searching for a good barber.
Saturday January 26, 2002: Where Is Everyone?
I spent today wandering around and getting my bearings. I expected a certain degree of culture shock, but something I didn’t expect was this feeling like I am in a ghost town. I am used to streets that are always packed, busy with traffic, tuk tuks or Jeepneys, people everywhere... here... well... It’s so quiet! I also discovered to my annoyance that for some weird ex-soviet reason everything CLOSES at 1:30 pm on Saturday.
The other thing that stuck me tonight as I walked back over to the internet cafe was the moon... it looks... NORMAL. For the last two years I have been unsettled by the way the shadow falls on the moon in Asia. The result of being so close to the equator. Here the moon looks just like it does in Canada. The shadow moving left to right as opposed to top to bottom.
Right now the fellow behind the bar and most of the patrons of the café are laughing uproariously at this weird musical video thing being shown on the TV. It’s like a collection of the dorkiest Eastern Bloc videos and musical clips dating from the 1960s to the 1980s... The locals think it’s hilarious... For me it is just BIZARRE beyond words. Men dressed as cowboys singing that country song about the Auctioneer in Czech? Some guy in tight trousers being chased by a guy with a guitar up and down these steps... A Czech guy from the 70s with a big afro doing the robot dance very badly. Apparently this is a videotape... hmmmm.
Friday January 25, 2002 : The First Day
I fell asleep at around 1:30 pm yesterday. I slept until 5:30 am. My sleep was full of weird dreams, seeing places from my childhood, as if I had somehow travelled back there. I walked along the street in Chilliwack, BC, to the Church I lived in when I was 6. A place that is now been torn down, I believe. In the back was the “Hanging Tree”. I was somewhat disoriented when I woke. Where was I? Where was K? It felt... cold... but not in the way you get from an air conditioner that is set too high. I got up and made some coffee. I watched the only English language channel I get, CNN... The sun didn’t rise until nearly 7:30 am... At around 8:00 am, I went out for a walk. I didn’t want to get lost in the laybrinth of old streets, so I kept relatively close to my place. I discovered a internet café that was actually open at that hour and had the best cup of coffee I have had in two years, as well as some yummy cereal and milk... Milk that tasted GOOD, not like the over-processed stuff you get in Asia.
The rest of the day was spent walking around my area in Praha 2. I found the coolest Army Surplus store I have ever been in. It was full of amazing stuff, and a lot of WW 2 helmets and gear, some of which were in excellent condition. Although I am quite warm with wearing my MEC goretex rain coat over my MEC fleece, I was still on the lookout for a nice warm coat. There were some nice fur and leather bomber jackets in the surplus store but they were sadly too small through the shoulders for me. The one jacket that did fit was a WW 2 German fighter pilot’s jacket. It was really comfortable, however far too damaged and worn out to justify the price. The insignias would also have to be removed before it would be wearable in public.
I walked around some more and eventually found a sporting goods store and bought a pair of gloves. I also picked up some groceries. Food here is both good (mmmmm cheese) and cheap. I need to find a good map book still. Perhaps tomorrow.
Thursday January 24, 2002 : Night Flights
My flight from Bangkok to Zürich, and ultimately to Prague, took about 14 hours. We were delayed leaving Bangkok by Thai officials of some sort walking around the plane, counting heads and clicking little counting devices. This unexplained procedure had that weird xenophobic feeling to it that permiates the otherwise friendly Thai culture. The Swiss Air crew were clearly annoyed by the whole thing. Once airborne, I put on my Walkman and allowed myself a tear or two while listening to Emmylou Harris. 9000 kms is a long way away from K’s smile.
The flight itself was good. I slept for much of it. That strange in-flight sleep where you wake, and fade in and out, my dreams intertwining with whatever was on my Walkman at the time. I kept thinking about flying as a boy with my parents from Vancouver to Halifax when I was 11 for some reason. Listening to Elton John on a mono earplug from my ever constant companion of the time, my mono Panasonic cassette recorder. The food and service on the Swiss Air flight was excellent. They showed two movies, the first of which I slept through. The second was “Tomb Raider,” which I had just watched a few nights before at Evergreen. It was weird to notice that the scene where Lara Croft shoots up the maurading four faced Buddha was cut out in the Thai subtitle version.
We landed in Zürich, Switzerland at 6:30 or so in the morning. There was an passport check as we left the plane, however the Swiss cop just looked at me, smiled and waved me by. I am no longer a Farang. I went to the transfer information booth and found out where my gate was and headed on that way. I passed through more security and was frisked but after living in Manila it didn’t seem unusual. I got to the area near my gate and waited. It was still dark and I was slightly unsure of whether it was am or pm. I bought an ice tea and was shocked at the price. 2 dollars! That was about 84 Baht... an ice tea in Bangkok would cost me about 20 Baht... Welcome to Europe.
I watched the sun come up and felt as if I could be in Vancouver. Pine trees, rain and that grey blue coloured winter sky which I haven’t seen in two years. We boarded the flight to Prague at 9:30 and off we went. The landscape beneath me could have easly been Canada. The flight was only one hour in duration. We had a very clear view of Prague as we descended to land. Again, the landscape beneath me looked so much like home. It was sort of erie. The Prague Airport was relatively empty. I walked to the customs booth and they stamped my visa in the most uninterested way, as if they didn’t care who I was or how long I was staying. I got my one bag, and changed some US dollars for Czech Kronas, then got a cab out in front of the building.
The drive into Prague was sort of bizarre. The driver had a very nice car, with a very nice stereo that flashed and blinked in time with the music... it was almost, dare I say... Filipino. (Those who have been to Manila will know exactly what I mean by that!) As we sped along at speeds that would have frighted Rene, out of the blinky stereo came a thumpa-blam High N R G disco techno version of “Take Me Home, Country Roads”. We sped along very nice roads, past rural scenes that could have been Ontario, eventually coming to the outskirts of Prague. Here I saw ugly soviet-looking 1970s apartment towers, all in disrepair, and covered in Detroit type graffiti. This thankfully ended once we got into the city itself. We passed through the main part of downtown and I was startled to see the building that houses Radio Free Europe protected by armoured cars, police with ancient looking wooden handled machine pistols, and soldiers with AK-47s.
I have taken a small but nice apartment in an area known as Praha 2. The building is a strange 4-story affair that has been totally renovated inside. I met up with the building manager and got all the keys and codes. The area I am in reminds me of the old city section of Quebec City. The streets are narrow, and cobblestoned, and the buildings are mostly quite old. It is not as cold as I had expected, although 6°C is a far cry from Bangkok’s average temperature of 32°C.
For now though... Prague is my home.
