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December 21, 2004

The final gasp

OK, so I learned a few things. One; never eat the airplane food, ever! Two; when sick in a foreign land don't try to wait it out, you will lose every time. Seek proper medical attention (you might make friends with the doctor, if you are me anyway). Three; never order pizza or anything made with cheese when on a tropical island... they don't really have cheese there, or it's an ersatz cheese, anyway just forget about it. The return flight was uneventful other than a coughing fit that seemed to end only after recieving dark looks from the flight attendants and causing several people to don dust masks. I think they thought I had the bird flu or SARS or something along those lines. I was both deadly and contageous and I reveled in the feeling of power my sickness gave me. When we arrive in BKK I'm feeling good enough to shop and tour some of the sights. Farangs often turn thier ankles when in BKK and, not wanting to be left out, I rip my ankle all the way around so it's pointing east, back to California. My foot turned a pale shade of violet tinged with blood red and I consider going home early. What else do I have to look forward to... an early death or perhaps confinement in the notoriously cruel prisons of Thailand, maybe an angel in the form of typhoid? I am an overly sensitive person so at this point I sat down and had a good cry, then I marched straight to the pharmacist, loaded up on pain relievers you'd need a script for stateside, and proceeded to have 7 of the best days of my life. Temple touring, palace touring, museums of art and culture. I saw movies I couldn't understand a word of and yet new the story from beginning to end. I ate from street stalls and in five star restaurants, I drank in hotel bars, nightclubs and back alleys. I traveled by foot, tuk tuk, taxi and skytrain to just a few of the destinations this great megolopolis has to offer. I indulged in the rollicking good time this town provides from midnight to dawn, slept it off and started all over again. I quit converting bhat to dollars and just gave up trying to make any sense of anything. I managed to earn a thai nick name, but I won't tell what it is, or who gave it to me(some things are better left...) I learned to scare off even the boldest of transvestite pick-pocket artists with a hard look I picked up watching eminem videos. I just was, In BKK, what else is there? More than anything, I spent too few hours amongst people who are kind in the purest sense of the word. People who are compassionate and who are not so compelled to draw a line of demarcation between self and other. Maybe the streets are a little crowded and dirty, but Thais are the cleanest of people. Maybe the traffic is insane and dogs run wild in the streets, yet I would trade this all too human condition for the sterility of southern California in a heartbeat. Bankok is a city of angels, and it healed me...

Last night out so we meet up at club saxaphone, a two story bar with american blues, rock and R&B theme. This is my kind of place, the band is playing "littlewing" and absolutely tearing it up. Thais are some of the worlds best musicians and it seems to be rising to fever pitch when I realise there are but three hours until my flight home. It's like a gaping chasm opening at my feet! It just can't be over, not like this... Not when it was getting so good! I take a cab back to the hotel and think... I never made it back to Moon Cafe, where it all started, where I'm sure she sits right now, sleepy eyed and dreamy, but very real. I wonder if she will be there next december??? Only one way to know, for sure.

Posted by Ken Graves at December 21, 2004 11:57 AM