Friday, March 18, 2011
We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Nor are we in Korea.
First stop: Bangkok, Thailand
Imagine arriving in the country you've dreamed about since you were young, anticipating an exotic scene to unfold before you: lush trees, crystal blue waters, drums beating as you walk through temple doors, and spicy noodle dishes that make your eyes water and nose run.
Two words: Let. Down.
Perhaps the locals of Bangkok took the name of their hometown a bit too literally. Ladyboys, ping pong shows? I have now stepped onto another planet.
Let me explain. We arrived at the Bangkok airport at about 1AM on a Monday night/Tuesday morning. Only having found where to stay that night on the flight out of Seoul (this procrastination became a pattern and, eventually, a problem), we wandered the airport until we found the taxi stand, where the attendants were all too familiar with the area we wished to sleep: Khao San Road. The ride was short and cheap, and with wide-eyes, my excitement grew as we approached our destination. I hesitated as I stepped out the backseat. A raunchy mix of exhaust, booze-laced vomit, and dead fish heads crept up my nostrils. A teenage boy--dressed in a skin-tight black miniskirt, hot pink push-up bra barely covered by a see-through white tank top, and the reddest set of lips I've ever seen--smirked as he strutted by. And then, with an overstuffed backpack securely strapped to my little back, I trudged down Khao San.
Khao San Road. It's loud. It's wild. It's legendary. You can't miss it. Flashing lights. Techno beats. Special cigarettes. Buckets of liquor. Cheap Chang beer. Bars crawling, spilling over with hipsters, hippies, and hoes. A man throws a green lit ball into the air, and it slowly flutters to the ground. And then there's me. Dressed appropriately for the 38th parallel in jeans and a sweatshirt, jaw half open, watching intently as I closely clung onto my purse, I thought, "This is Thailand?"
After consulting with some friendly foreigners, we opted to stay on a side street nearby: Soi Rambutri. The cheap places were booked, so we stayed at a $25/night joint with a rooftop pool, which we never swam in.
I'm quite proud to say that my bravery over the years has far surpassed my natural inclination to nervousness. The last time I felt this afraid to leave my room was Day 1 in Korea when I suddenly realized that I didn't speak or read Korean. Having a travel companion is highly recommended, someone to force you out the door and face the chaos outside.
Tuk-tuk drivers waved us down for a cheap ride around town. Women pushing carts of roasted bugs offered samples of grasshoppers and beetles. The streets of Khao San and surrounding are lined with vendors selling cotton dresses, bracelets, headbands, T-shirts, watches, lighters, wooden carvings, pad thai, cold beer, coconut milk, iced coffee, scarves--any and everything you could ever want. They are all there just for us--the tourists, the backpackers, the avoiders of growing up.
Bangkok is madness but not to be missed. Are you a fan of body sweat, perpetual dirt under your fingernails, haggling for daily needs, eating your meals with rats, constant harrassment about a good deal? How about riding in a rainbow-colored tuk-tuk on the freeway driven by a wrinkly old man with no shoes or teeth? Surely you enjoy the scent of vomit and the excitement of nearly having your toes taken off by a passing truck? Yes? Perfect. Bangkok is the place for you. No? Fine, stick to Florida.
xx
hh
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