Perspective

I was 7, maybe 8, when I first visited Bangkok. My brother and I (it was just the two of us then) lived in Japan where Dad taught English and Mom was a freelance writer and jewelry dealer. Something came over the ‘rents, and so they took my brother and I to Thailand.

Dad had first visited Thailand in the mid-70’s, if I remember right, during one of his holidays from Peace Corps volunteering in Afghanistan. He was one those scruffy, skinny dudes bummin’ along the Hippy Trail. So cool!

Those young memories are a little vague and mixed-up now, but bits and pieces still surface now and again. I can still remember…

…Mom’s constant exclamations of just how good the food was. Yeah, it is Thailand Mom… they can cook Thai food.
…temples, endless temples. Some of them had monkeys… sweet, monkeys!
…loving the long-boat rides in the canals of Bangkok.
…missing out on the elephant ride in Chiang Mai because I was having a spell of asthma attacks. Stupid asthma.
…fancy hotels and great pools and fruit… so much fruit.
…the inexplicable pride I felt when Thai’s would mistake me for a local and speak to me in words that were neither Japanese nor English.
…trying to catch the geckos that were all over the walls and ceilings of our hotels. Loved those geckos.

Today, as I walk the streets of Bangkok, some 18 years later, I rarely see the 7 or 8-year-old kids traveling with their parents. Probably because my travels this time around are closer to what my Dad’s were his first time around. Mind you, I’m not 1/4th the traveler he was. But still… a $3 guest house and $0.50 street food? Sign me up.

…

It’s not quite 8AM yet, and already it’s hot… and humid. Bangkok is always hot - really hot - oppressively hot - 2AM, sleepless, sprawled out in only my boxers under a feeble ceiling fan hot. At night the heat seems to radiate up from your feet… the concrete jungle of buildings and windy streets acting like a giant heat-sink. My body will adjust, I told myself during my first couple of days. You’re just soft… you’ve been spoiled by the 2 months in the mild climate of New Zealand.

So on the morning of my second day, 8:00 finds me with a fresh sheen of sweat, strolling up Sanan Chai Road, which skirts the temple of Wat Pho. I’d decided to do the Bangkok Temple Crawl, and thought the public ferry down the Chao Phray River would be a pleasant way to get South to some of Bangkok’s famous Wats. And so… my bullheaded romanticism getting the better of my adolescent travel savvy, I accidentally climbed aboard an express ferry… which skipped my pier and let me off about a mile down river. Ha!

More amused than irritated with myself, I leafed through my Lonely Planet, and sure enough… there’s and express ferry… and nope, it doesn’t stop at Pier-8. But hey, it looks like Pier-6 puts me at the riverside commercial produce and fish market. Bustling with Thai merchants setting up for the day, hand carts and motor cycles weave through narrow alleys, stacked impossibly high with baskets of this and crates of that. I’m clearly out of place, with no other farang (foreigner) in sight, but the merchants pay me no mind. I pick my way through the orchestrated chaos of the market and come out laughing.

Which brings me back to 8:00, outside Wat Pho, sheen of sweat, etc. I’ve stopped to look at my map, which I later learn is the international sign for “offer me something,” and a nice Thai fellow stops to ask if I need assistance. He’s a local school teacher, young, and speaks excellent English. I tell him I’m visiting Wat Pho, Wat Phra Kaew, and Wat Arun this morning. Ahhh, but Wat Pho is closed until noon because of a Buddhist ceremony, he tells me. And the other Wats won’t open for a couple of hours. He looks at my map and circles a couple of other wats that he thinks are worth checking out, and shows me where I can find a good market for cheap goods. As he’s talking to me a tuk-tuk (open-air 3-wheel taxi) pulls over, and my teacher friend says… here just have this tuk-tuk show you these other sights and bring you back when Wat Pho opens at noon. The teacher and tuk-tuk driver exchange some words in Thai, and the teacher says this driver will show me around for only 20 Baht ($0.50!).

And it’s at this moment that I finally keen in on the scam. No tuk-tuk ride costs 20 Baht. I’d been warned of convincing con-artists who get you in a tuk-tuk, which takes you someplace (the market) for a commission, only so they can cheat you out of large sums of money on fake shwag.

I thank the teacher and excuse myself from their company. I hear the man yell, “10 Baht for you!” as I round a corner.

Sure enough, I find Wat Pho to be open. And so I continue my plan for temple hopping. The semi-close encounter with the scam only leaves a fleeting bad taste in my mouth.

…

It’s sad, and maybe sad isn’t the right word, but it seems inevitable that any traveler in SE Asia will eventually grow weary of having to be “on-guard” all the time.

You have to remember what an absurd luxury it is that you have money and time in such excess, you can actually afford to take holidays. Travel for fun? The concept must seem so foreign and preposterous to the SE Asians who bust their asses all day long just to feed their families.

Sure, tourism certainly provides these second and third world economies with a great deal of its industry. But how can we, in good conscience, not expect the Thais and Cambodians of this world to become jaded by the constant interaction with spoiled Western travelers. It’s a two-way-street… we want exotic inexpensive travels… they just want a piece of our affluent pie.

I’m not going to be so self-righteous as to claim that I enjoy hearing “Tuk-tuk, Tuk-tuk?” or “Hey! You want moto? Where you from?” a dozen times each block. Or the difficulty I have refusing the hordes of children begging for money, because I know their parents are forcing them to do it, leveraging their cuteness, and will take every Baht I give them. I can’t say that a part of me isn’t insulted when I have to refuse solicitations for drugs or “lady tonight?”.

Western travelers like me enable and encourage these annoyances we so vehemently blast.

The thing that seems most important is that while feeling constantly inundated by scammers, beggars, and aggressive entrepreneurs… it’d be stupid to wear blinders and assume every person is out to get something from you.

My time in this beautiful region would be wasted if I gave no one a chance. The first person I met in Bangkok, a Thai woman seated next to me on the airport bus, was the sweetest woman. Wanting only to practice her English and impart local wisdom and advice on the very green traveler sitting beside her, we chatted the entire way into town. You just never know.

…

I love the city of Bangkok. Four days of exploring has only left me thirsting for another visit. The Lonely Planet describes the city as, “hands-down the coolest, grittiest, cockiest capital city in the region.” It’s that and so much more. In no other city could a single day have me…

…on a river boat packed to the gills with monks in saffron robes, business men in suits, street kids in rags, and androgynous youth in the most stylish threads.
…leave an ancient Buddhist temple and 10 minutes later enter an ultra-modern, multi-story, neon-drenched department store.
…stroll past hundreds of Thai’s (men & women, young & old) bouncing and shimmying to hip-hop beats during synchronized aerobics classes in downtown pedestrian malls.
…eat like a king at 20 Baht ($0.50) a pop. Mango and sticky-rice, whole fresh pineapple, the best Pad Thai of my life, barbeque chicken skewers, noodle soup, coconut curries, and sweet Thai coffee.
…get off a pedal powered tuk-tuk and climb aboard an Air-Con Sky Train.
…on Khao San Road.

Ah the spectacle that is Khao San Road. In SE Asia, all roads lead to Khao San. Whether you need it or not, you’ll find it here.

Dread out my hair and get a tattoo at the same time, all while sitting in the middle of the street? Sign me up! Designer and faux-designer shirts, pants, swimsuits, sunglasses… you name it. Need a passport photo, or maybe a crappy fake passport? Right this way. Need a drink? Sure you do… and you’re in luck, every third store-front is a bar packed with sweaty travelers. You’re hungry? Not on Khao San you’re not… food vendors line the street selling the tastiest 50cent food you’ll find on earth. Need a watch? A crazy hat? Jewelry? Souvenirs? A pharmacy? Glasses? Bus ticket to Siem Reap? Plane tickets to anywhere? Recreational drugs? Not so recreational drugs? Whatever you can imagine… spend a little time on Khao San and you’re sure to find it.

It’s not my favorite place in Bangkok, but it sure helps to give the city its unique and amazing character.

…

and finally, some PICS. Sorry I only ended up getting decent photos of the temples only.

Wat Arun...
The famous 50m reclining Buddah of Wat Pho.
Temple grounds of Wat Pho.
Young munks seated in Wat Phra Kaew.
Wat Phra Kaew.
Extensive restoration work was being completed on the murals of the Wats.
Wat Phra Kaew.