December 9, 2004
Mommy my blog is dying! (and I can tell cuz it's not breathing...)
On re-reading my last entry I see that I am glossing over that last night in Ayutthaya, perhaps because gloss is all that's left of my memory after that epic bout of cane whiskey drinking. I do remember this though: I was praying for tender mercy by morning, there was no reprieve in sight and like a perfect angel G wakes me at 11:30 A.M. saying... "me and Thad are gonna go down to Bangkok, well meet you tommorow when you feel better." This is too much for me, being alone only three days in country, so I bellow out " Like hell you will!", and in 15 minutes, after much whining and crying and one last hurl, I manage to get it together and head for the minivan station in the back of a tuk, ready for my head to just up fall off at any moment, literally. I sat for the whole hour trapped in that van, 11 people and the driver, that whole hour with my stetson on my lap in front of me... upside down and waiting to be of service. I actually asked Thad to tell the driver that I was feeling sick though I knew that on the tollway, there are no emergency lanes, no where to stop. Only death there, for all of us. I felt that I just couldn't let all those nice people down. One girl hands me her menthol inhaler and not wanting to offend I whiff on it and it seems to increase my feeling of nausea exponentially in proportion to the amount inhaled. I dominate my innards by sheer force of will until we get to the hotel, relieved to not have exploded in close quarters. The hotel was clean n' comfy, a fridge is a must in Thailand, internet access too! Of course none of this means diddly to me because an hour after arriving I was asleep for the remainder of the day, requesting only gatorade and darkness. Perhaps I should have taken this as a warning or an ill omen, but I jumped up at about eight or nine wondering where all my friends were?? I see an note and call G's cell, he can't believe I'm alive, thought I was gonna die and thinks I should stay in the hotel. I am incensed at being left out and demand that thier whereabouts be disclosed immediately, that I might catch up to them at the bar. What happened that night? It gets a tad on the hazy side from here on in...Lets just say one night in Krung Thep.... yeah!!!!
The next leg of our journey is the hour-long flight down to Krabi, tropical paradise on the southern penninsula. A sunny playground of endless beaches, resorts and hotels. Travel by water, travel by land, however you like cuz theres no end to it and theres no hurry gettin there. After suffering hunger pains on the flight and eating some kind of fish cake spinach log thingy, I have second thoughts. Oh well, how much harm could one little spicy fish log do? We take a cab to Ao Nang, which G remembers as a sleepy little bungalo town with a few restaurants and bars. You can't stop progress and it's obvious that a few people have been pumping an enormous wad into the local economy. There were no less than fifty hotels and guest houses just on the main strip alone. Bad shopping bazaar music pumping, beer bar music jumping, head pounding, this was an unexpected turn of events and it was time to sink or swim. Geoff pounds the pavement and ropes us a hotel room, returning with a tuk tuk for me in my weakened state. After a hose down and a catnap we procure a late dinner and play some pool, drink some beer and play jenga and darts at the bar, all topped off an extra special sauce made with??? you guessed it... CANE WHISKEY!!!
I know... this is getting a little redundant already with the cane whiskey and all, I just didn't know how fast the sensation of going blind could become alluring, how much I wanted to be a man and drink cane whiskey! We are nearing the breaking point here, so pay close attention. After staying up into the wee hours again we go back to the hotel and try to cach some ZZZZ's. G starts snoring something feirce, and the absoutely mandatory AC is laying down a band of sonic interference, in the backround I can begin to detect my own pulse as I'm trying unsucessfully to sleep, it's a dull roar in my ears, and behind closed eyes I pereive an sea of fire and ash.
It's truly amazing that it took me this long to begin to think about the possibility that I might be ill. Even more amazing is the fact that I still hoped that my mounting torture was only a mild case of jet lag. I never aknowleged the likelihood that I was suffering from an advanced case of both the flu and jet lag, and yet this is where I found myself. Tens of thousands of miles away from my home, racked by fever and stretched thin by exhaustion, I heard voices in my sleep and, waking from delerium, became unsure of my whereabouts. Why had I come so far, only to suffer mercilessly at the hand of microbes and cane whiskey? All my orifices concerted to serve a singular purpose, one I will not name here.
We embarked the next day to Tonsai hoping I would recover and we could engage in maximum relaxation technique! But as soon as we hit the beach, I felt something snap. My fantasy vacation? My intestinal fortitude? Both victims of flu and evil forces! After a few days of talking to spirits I realise that I'm eating up valuble time being sick like stink! And by now G has caught it and is already recovering... I made a decision the day we leave by boat for Phuket. I will not even attempt to continue blogging, as I can smell the already bloated corpse in our midst. Post cards and e-mail, trinkets and souveniers? Time has become a most precious commodity and I refuse to waste a minute on those back home, or anything that might keep me from absolute immersion in the here and now. Focusing on recovery so that I might actually get some life out of this vacation, we search out a doctor in Patong and after two painful shots in the bum I begin to recover, just in time for the flight back to Bangkok.
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.