Experiencing Asia: Bangkok

“A passport, as I'm sure you know, is a document that one shows to government officials whenever one reaches a border between countries, so the officials can learn who you are, where you were born, and how you look when photographed unflatteringly.”  --Lemony Snicket

                The great part about this reality is that after surviving another flight I am usually able to match that unflattering look almost precisely. This was definitely the case on my great adventure to Thailand. We traveled with some friends from school and decided to take the midnight flight to Bangkok. This was agreed upon both to save money on tickets and to save money on hotel rooms. By arriving in Bangkok during the wee hours of the morning, we could simply sleep in the airport for a few hours before catching a taxi and exploring the city. (A truly amazing plan when you are unaware that the Bangkok airport has only metal benches and a frigid, fifty degree thermostat.) If sleep can be defined as chattering teeth and lower back pain then I say we got a good night’s rest.

Refreshed from our Siberian slumber, we ventured outside and were immediately introduced to two of Thailand’s famous attributes; humidity and haggling. If humidity somehow bettered mankind, Thailand would win the Nobel Prize every year. Heck, Obama won it for less than this. My vote is in for Thai Humidity next year. Seriously though, if air is ever thick enough to grab and throw into your pocket, it’s in Bangkok. Not to be outdone by humidity is the ever-present Thai businessman, always on the lookout for a lost traveler who needs help. If you look foreign he has a special deal for you. If you are lucky enough to look Caucasian and American he has a stupendous deal for you. After fifteen minutes and a taxi offer roughly four times the normal price, we finally haggle down to a normal fare. I must say that after quite a bit of travelling, I am willing to offer up a quote to the travel quote gods. “Your journey to a new city never really begins until you enter a taxi.” –Chris Harris (Copyright 2010. If you want to use this quote in your publication please contact me.) Somewhere there is a secret school for Asian taxi drivers. In order to graduate you must finish in the top ten of the IAD league. IAD stands for “I Almost Died”, and features racing that incorporates elements from Drag racing, drifting, Mario Kart and Frogger. Adding to the element of fear was my first experience riding on the wrong side of the road. Yes, Thailand follows in the footsteps of England (God save the Queen) and drives on the left side of the road. This fact was reemphasized over and over again during my stay as I attempted to cross the street, looked the wrong way and stopped one step short of meeting St. Peter. Listen to your parents, kids, and look BOTH ways before crossing the street. After thirty minutes with Captain Haggle and General Good Deal, we arrived at our hotel safely and with only a small stain in our pants. We left our bags until check-in, and began the grand exploration of Thailand’s capital city.

From the moment you step onto your first Bangkok sidewalk, the city’s Buddhist roots are evident. The intricate craftsmanship of so many local temples and idols permeates the bustling urban atmosphere. Perhaps bustling is an understatement. Like most places in Asia, Bangkok is crowded. You are constantly moving in a crowd of people. There is the constant noise of honking horns and the puttering whine from the Tuk-Tuks. (Little three-wheeled scooters that serve as public transportation) As you begin to experience sensory overload, yet another haggler steps into your path, peddling the next great Thai souvenir. At first, it’s overwhelming but it soon becomes the enchanting tune enticing you deeper into this new, exotic locale.

Wonder and awe beginning to fade, we realized that we only had one day in this great city and that we better start moving fast. We familiarized ourselves with the SkyTrain and took off to experience the Chao Phraya River, Bangkok’s swirling, thriving heartbeat.  After another intense round of haggling we were able to book a river tour at a reasonable price. We would tour the Wat Arun, navigate the tiny canals and visit a small floating market. The Wat Arun proved to be a very memorable stop while in Thailand. The architecture and attention to detail was truly amazing. It holds a two-fold spot in my memory though, because it was also the site of my first “dumb tourist” moment. As we got off the boat there were two lovely photo ops dying to make us look traditionally Thai. (You know, the big wooden bodies with a hole for your face.) We jumped right up and took our pictures and then, on cue with the last camera click, a mysterious lady appeared out of thin air. (Well as previously mentioned there is no thin air in Thailand but the expression is still fitting.) She had been hiding nearby waiting for our overzealous picture snapping. At this point she muttered something in Thai and pointed at some teeny, tiny writing at the bottom of the cutout. It said “40 baht”, which can be translated as “just over one U.S. dollar” or “Ha, ha, ha, sucker!”  The whole deal was a scam to charge morons like us roughly $1.20 to take a picture with a sheet of plywood and some poor painting. Touché, sneaky lady, touché.

 Wallets lighter, pride hurting, we clambered back onto our boat and set off through the maze of small canals. We skimmed along at a nice clip as dilapidated trapezoids of lumber seemed to float on murky waves. The river literally flows right to the doorstep of these shanties as inhabitants paddle small boats through the neighborhood. The setting was surreal; an entire community living, thriving, and existing in a river. Adding to the surrealism are the floating markets. These are entire “shopping centers” where each aisle is paddled along in a bustling freeway of little wooden boats.

Having finished the “special deal for you” boat tour, we set out to conquer the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, home of the famous reclining Buddha. By this point in the day our persistent visitor, future winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, Mr. Humidity, was in full swing. Parts covered by clothing were saturated, cloth clinging like spandex on an overweight gym member dropout. Parts not covered by clothing were glistening like vampires in fresh snow. (If you fail to understand this analogy, consider yourself one of the few, fiction-reading virgins, unadulterated by the monster that is Twilight.) It was beyond hot. Few times in my life have I been so miserable while actually enjoying something. The sights and sounds were so incredible that even the constant oppression of being in a sumo wrestler’s armpit couldn’t destroy all enjoyment. The Grand Palace proved to live up to its name, as “grand” is one of many adjectives I might use to describe it. The shimmering awnings and rooftops, along with golden pinnacles and ornate statues are a visual masterpiece. You can feel the pride and care that went into building every detail. Not to be outdone by the Grand Palace, the Wat Pho is the oldest and largest temple in Bangkok and lays claim to the most images of Buddha and the largest Buddha in all of Thailand. Buddhist or not, you can’t help but stare in awe and amazement when you witness a reclining statue 150 feet long and 50 feet tall. Taking a picture of such a large structure, inside of a temple, is a near impossible feat. Walking through the temple was yet another surreal moment on this journey. Surrounded by ornate woodwork, Thai images rivaling the Sistine Chapel, a giant golden Buddha and drowning in a constant clink clank of coins being dropped into cast iron pots transports the mind to otherworldly locations.

Tiring of the endless glitz and incense, we decided to shift from Buddha to browsing, and headed for the largest market I have ever seen. As we approached on the SkyTrain, the market rooftops seemed to join with the horizon in an endless sea of multi-colored tin. We disembarked and began the labyrinth of souvenirs, clothing, food, furniture, household items, idols, unicorns and dancing monkeys. (Okay, so I didn’t see the last two items but I also didn’t have time to visit every shop.) We got our first “real” Thai tea and had some amazing Thai food classics. We huddled inside as we experienced our first Thai monsoon. Watching helplessly and humorously as shops flooded, people got drenched and umbrellas became high-speed projectiles. We bought cheap memoirs of Bangkok and “window shopped” items we had never seen before, until the immense activities of the past twenty-four hours began to catch up with us. Shopped out, we returned to our hotel to settle down. Our companions chose to search out a massage while we opted to just eat and crash.

My last truly memorable experience in Bangkok came unexpectedly. Settling down for the night, too lazy to venture far for dinner, we decide to try the traditional Thai restaurant right at our hotel. Excited to have a mass list of local curry dishes, I order the green curry and dive in. Have you ever seen that classic horror movie scene, Poltergeist I think, where the man washes his face in the sink, looks in the mirror and screams as his flesh slowly slides off in hideous chunks? Graphic, I know, but I have no better analogy for the feeling after about three bites of my green curry. I am no stranger to spice but this was beyond anything I have ever experienced. Culinary Hiroshima at it’s finest. I managed to finish most of my murderous fare but the memory would not soon fade. Fitting finale? Yes, perfectly fitting. As I sit here now, one year later, and begin this traveling memoir, the spice of Thailand is fresh in my mind.  One day in Bangkok left many, many lasting memories; the least of which still leaves a slow burn of excitement, experience and desire for more, much like a bowl of classic green curry in this legendary metropolis.