The 18 hour nonconsecutive spaceship has landed here in Bangkok and needless to say my brain has made a whole new pathway to accommodate the madness that is Bangkok. Scientists have said that people who do ecstasy and meth develop new pathways in their brain that make the experience of doing drugs addictive, that more or less sums up how I feel about Thailand- addictive. From the beautiful sheen of Thai skin, to the cheap food, to the ever present and never ending never sleeping chaos- I love Thailand.
Kirk and I flew to Seoul, South Korea from Seattle which was a twelve hour flight, but thanks to allergy medication I slept half of it. From Seoul we ran through the terminal with a lovely Korean stewardess to make our next flight to Bangkok which was a six hours consumed by watching the ever terrible "Nights in Rodanthe". So in total, my twelve hour flight was riddled with bizarre incidents and some good luck.
The freak show that unfolded as Kirk and I slumbered softly was only five rows up from us, yet we were unaware of this story until day 2 when the Alaskan's unleashed the plot of the "armrest hogging granny vs. the ill tempered 30 something". The tale begins with the 70 year old Korean woman who suffers from diabetes and must elevate her feet to keep her blood running smoothly to all of her arteries, she for some reason must also hog the arm rest of the person sitting next to her which belonged to a successful but possibly hemroidal thirtysomething Korean man. The 30something decides to push granny out of the way so that he can have his arm rest back, however this does nothing to deter granny who continuously moves her feet over near his seat so she can keep her blood pumping in perfect comfort. After a few trials of deterring granny, 30 something yells at her in a very vocal tone so that the whole plane can hear- twice. After this trumpet of warning he looses his preparation-h and literally decks her in the face, smashing her glasses and putting this seventy year old granny into a seizure. He is swiftly detained by the silky swanlike airline stewardesses where he is hopefully executed or tried for assaulting a diabetic granny. Good Christ.
The good luck that fell upon us sat in the row in front of me and wore a Jack Daniels shirt with a pony tail. This was an Alaskan who's name is Chad, who casually dropped we should all share a cab together. After losing him in the Airport to Kirk's delayed luggage fiasco, we found him later at our hotel sipping Chang beer with a smile and that pony tail. Chad appears 26 and acts 26 but is actually 34. The closest summation to his appearance I can find is when you take a cheesy, "whats your real age?" test online- Chads is 26. Chad leads guided fishing tours in Alaska, lives 200 miles from a taco bell or the movies, and has one rule on his boat- no talking politics or religion. Chad loves Chang beer and terrible jokes, needless to say if you can't tell by reading- I adore Chad. If I was a 34 year old dude who lived in Alaska as a guided fishing tour leader I would be him but I can't so I'll settle to be his non biological niece. His counterpart was Ryan, an ex-hippie who loves calm skies and seas and enjoys silence along with his laughs. He the yin to Chad's Chang. Chad and Kirk's din was met with Ryan and I's serene quiet chatter. Yin and Chang left for Krabi down south the day before yesterday, and since then Kirk and I have been a buoy in a Bangkok sea, happy to go where waves take us but we don't stray far from our perch. We will meet up with them in Chiang Mai and meander with them to Laos for trekking.
A lovely myriad of smells and sounds is the most gorgeous part of Bangkok's landscape. When I wake in the morning I smell chicken roasting on a small grill rising up into my third story window, perfumes of fruit being cut by a machete, when I shower in my bathroom I hear the chants and ringing bells coming from the temples- a slow honeyed rhythm that makes any third rate hotel shower the best shower I've ever taken.There is nothing I can do to make it a bad shower even if my hot water decided to not work, its eighty degrees outside and hot air would drift through open slats into my bathroom to warm even the coolest water. Chanting is my favorite part of Thai morning rituals, free music from your window should be a criteria for the next place I move. These smells extend throughout the day from the many food carts lining the streets of Rambutri and Khaosan, where I can buy gourmet red curry full of figurative blood, sweat, tears and Thai expertise for one American dollar. All of this food is grown locally and its delicious. Pad thai is everywhere and a large heap costs less than a dollar. I haven't felt content to eat this much since, ever. "Fruit Shake" stands line the streets as well that are literally a man with a heap of produce to mix and match from and for a dollar you can pick two-three things and get them blended with no sugar, no additives, no dairy, just fruit and a little water. My mango/avocado hybrid is the tastiest delight I have ever purchased, I foresee overdose in the near future.