Bangkok Days

Bangkok is not just the Capital of Thailand, it is truly an international city.  It is a crossroads of East and West and an inner gateway to Asia itself.   I am visiting the city this time on my own dime and the experience has forced me to scale back my travel budget some.  On business the hotels are four star.  Out of my pocket they are two. 

One persistent reality in South East Asia is that pictures at least in a commercial sense, hardly ever depict reality.  It reminds me of the elegant model of a new housing project you will find in a mall.  Landscaped environment and perfect trees line elegant driveways moving toy cars from one point to another.  I glance at the brochures and am often captivated by the image they portray.  They are beautiful depictions of what life will be like if I was only to plop down a hundred thousand dollars and become a resident. If I was to personally visit the place I can say without question I will find something different.  Reality and idealism however seldom coincide.   Oh the property will be nice but next door it will be a junkyard or run down housing area.  Idealism only extends to the properties edge. 

The same can be said about hotels.  We chose them from websites designed to show us the best and never the leaky toilets, dirty showers or run down appearance of a property well passed it’s prime.  The photos are likely dated snapped the instant the place opened and used for the entirety of its existence or creative angles and liberal cropping.  We also have little idea what the area will be like until our taxi arrives and are feet begin to explore.

This trip was no exception.  I ended up with a generally agreeable and modern looking hotel for a reasonable 46 dollars a night.  Sure it was a bit past it’s prime but in truth I wonder if it ever had a prime.  As I stepped out of the taxi the gentle rain of an overhead air conditioning unit leaking buckets of water greeted me.  A couple guys on a ladder were doing their best to rectify the situation.   The reservations clerk apologized and I responded by saying it was just a free swimming pool. 

I know little about Bangkok and staying here is a bit like throwing a dart at a dart board with a blindfold on.  Choice comes down to economics and proximity to the airport.  This trip it seems I have discovered an international enclave of Bangkok and feel as if I am firmly entrenched in little Bombay.  Indian restaurants line the streets and Punjabi looking folks looking as out of place as I was slipped in and out of the shadows. 

Thailand is generally quite clean and as cities go Bangkok tries to keep pace.  It is of course a difficult task yet one that has been forced to yield to the population of this area.  Little Bombay seems to be a far greater reflection of the dirt and chaos of India than Thai cleanliness.  I suppose with the population of India expanding faster than my gut in a fast food restaurant it is reasonable to expect a substantial portion of Indians would find their way to Thailand.  It is after all simply a couple nations away.   That said being inundated with Indians when you expect to see Thais is a bit of a shock. 

Despite being overwhelmed by the hordes of people when I travel it is typically not long before my second wind kicks in.  The desire to explore and learn my environment overtakes everything else.  Even in the nicest and most welcoming hotels I tend to feel a little claustrophobic.  When you first arrive at a hotel assuming it is not a rattrap, the room tends to feel like a sanctuary.  It is not long before sanctuary turns to prison as the four walls no matter how beautiful and well appointed tend to close in.  That said, a city of over 14 million people can quickly make a return inside those four walls seem once again like an isolated paradise.  I often get much the same sensation in an airplane toilet on a flight with 350 people.  Okay, skip the paradise part but when you have been flying for 20 plus hours to Asia surrounded by so many living bodies a moment’s shelter inside a disgusting air born porta-potty can provide a momentary escape from humanity.

Determined to conquer Bangkok or at the very least have a look at something I left my hotel in little Bombay and looked for a motorcycle taxi.  Oddly enough it was Saturday morning and the streets were somewhat calm.  It wasn’t long before a Tuk Tuk rolled passed me and offered a lift.

At this point I have to step back from my story and provide the following personal and revealing detail about my life and myself.  I seldom learn a lesson the first time and I am a sucker for things I don’t want to buy but am easily talked into.  Most of this has to do with my inability to handle people selling things.  I tend to want to just buy the damn thing so the leave me alone.  I know this is what they are looking for and believe me I am not proud at my lack of ability to resist.  I live with a dark cloud over my head that rains on me from time to time and keeps me from seeing the sun. 

That said, life has taught me that if you cannot change whom you are, at least figure out some way to incorporate it into life and be productive.  So dear reader, if you haven’t figured it out by now writing a missive like this one is a way of productively dealing with my shame and inability to not only repeat the same mistakes but simply say, no.

The Thai Tuk Tuk is a scam of epic proportions.  Tourists love them, real Thais seldom use them.  They are perceived as something quintessentially Thai as they rumble by spewing some unknown carcinogen from their exhaust.   Tuk Tuk drivers cruise like a hawk circling in the sky looking down for their next victim.  They will try a number of different things to get you inside their smashed little back end.  Once there, they will sucker you into an over priced journey that not only consumes your time it also can devour your pride and your wallet.

At night as you leave a bar a Tuk Tuk will roll up beside you and undoubtedly offer a lift.  This is usually accompanied by showing a laminated picture of some beautiful women and a friendly promise to take you there.  After arrival the Tuk Tuk driver will disappear to receive his cut and you the victim will find yourself in an amazingly overpriced establishment filled with smiling beautiful young girls an phenomenally over priced drinks.  Hidden charges will appear on your bill like fungi after a rain and if short on cash they will most certainly offer to escort you to an ATM.

On this day it was still morning and for some reason I thought my chances would certainly better.  "Where do you want to go?" The smiling driver asked.  "I will take you there for 60 Bht." (about 2 bucks).  What a deal I thought.  "Oh," he adds, "We just need to make a couple quick stops."  I had this one.  I knew the game.  I smiled and told him I won't buy anything.  He assured me it was no problem.  After we visited a couple places he would take me where I wanted to go.  I told him I wanted to visit the Golden Mountain Temple.  "No problem he assured me and off we went."

The first stop was a suit shop run buy guys who claimed to be from India but I am certain were from Yemen.  They offered me beer and attempted to sell me a 30 dollar handmade suit.  I wondered if the suicide vests were being constructed in the back.  "It is only 10 in the morning." I responded waving the beer can away.  I stood my ground and moments later met the tuk tuk driver again.  With his cut undoubtedly in his pocket we sped off again. "One more stop." the man told me.  Fine, I was in this far I thought.  The second shop was more elegant and run by the smoothest talking Indian guy you would ever meet in your life.  He lead me from roll of fabric to roll of fabric.  I tried to escape.  I have to leave this evening I pleaded, no time to buy I said.  With each gesture he seemed to block my path whichever way I turned and then complimented me and how the various fabric patterns would look on me.  For some reason in his presence I felt well, almost handsome.

"But really," I tried again.  "I am leaving Bangkok tonight.  I can come back next time.  Why don't you give me your card?"

"No problem!" He replied, " I can make it and have it delivered to your hotel in two hours."
"Help!" I wanted to cry out but only two victimized Chinese tourists were in ear shot. Crap I thought, they were from China.  Hell they make 80% of what's sold in America.  If they couldn't get away what chance did I have?  Desperate to escape and losing track of my senses I agreed to buy what amounted to a 30 dollar tailored shirt.   I felt triumphant in my offer.  Originally he had suggested I buy six.   I pulled the money from my wallet and handed it to him.  Another man emerged from a back room and commenced stretching a measuring tape across my chest and then around my neck.  Why doesn't he just hang me with it I thought.  Desperate to leave I thanked the man for allowing me to give him my 30 dollars.  He in return gave me his card and I wondered if the shirt would ever arrive.

Back in the Tuk Tuk the driver asked if I bought something.  "Yes" I mumbled.  I am sure his cut just tripled.  Moments later we were again traversing a busy Bangkok street.  Mentally I calculated that what would have been a three dollar taxi ride to my destination had now cost me 33.00 dollars.  Finally we pulled up outside a wall and a temple was inside.

"We here!" he said.  I handed him his money and was frankly ready to just get away.  Damn I thought, It wasn't so far after all.  I should have just walked.  I crossed a busy street and walked past a small  gate.  Funny I thought, the temple seemed smaller than I had imagined.  It was really just one small building surrounded by a construction site.  I walked around and noticed a couple cab drivers sitting eating a sandwich.  After a couple of rounds of this simple spot and thinking how thoroughly undramatic it was it suddenly occurred to me that there was no mountain.  Moments later like a spash of cold water in the face it hit me, this was not the temple I asked him to see.  Son of a bitch, the guy just shoved me out at the nearest golden roof!  I felt like a jilted date. 

Thirty-three dollars later and hating Tuk Tuks now more than ever I pulled out my cell phone and began walking with the GPS.  I finally did arrive at the Golden Mountain and I must say it is an impressive and beautiful refuge in an overwhelming city.  I don't want to understate the beauty of the location so I will leave my general impressions of this lovely place to another piece of writing.  I will say however I found one part most curious.  It was a small sculpture area tucked away in a corner as you walk the steps up to the top of the golden mountain.  A number of vultures sat looking on as some of their compatriots devoured the body of a person while other humans looked on.   Apparently it was a commemoration of various epidemics that once consumed an enormous number of people.  In an effort to deal with the mounting death toll and accumulation of bodies the city delivered them to the temple.   Overwhelmed with more corpses than could be burned or buried the monks arrived at a creative solution.  The came up with the creative marketing term "Sky burial" and lay out the bodies so that vultures could descended and eat their fill.  Having been recently victimized by the ubiquitous Tuk Tuk I decided  I had just experienced my own vulture encounter.

Leaving the temple compound I decided that I would again seek refuge in my hotel for a respite.  Not being able to afford another Tuk Tuk I chose to wave down a taxi.  One stopped and I climbed in the back.  I spoke the address of my hotel in Thai and handed a small card with it written out.  The driver a rather elderly man squinted and pulled out a magnifying glass and began examining the card.  Not a good sign I thought as this seemingly half blind man was going to carry me back to my base.  With glossy eyes he looked up and said he had no idea where it was.  I thanked him and told him not to worry.  Grateful for his lack of direction I counted my lucky stars and left his cab to find another.  The next cab that stopped was painted a lovely shade of pink and the driver also had no idea where I wanted to go.  Okay guys I thought, this is not rocket science here.  We couldn't be more than two miles away and the hotel was just off a large shopping district.  I suspect the driver may have had a secret plot to lengthen my stay so his meter could count the minutes of indecision.  Thankfully I was able to call the hotel and through the speaker they were able to explain where to take me.

I must say, I do not like Bangkok.  If it were the sum total of my exposure to Thailand I would never come back.  Fortunately my life has reached far beyond the crowded unpleasant capital in the south to regions that are much more friendly and welcoming.   I suppose every place has its charm and perhaps I will find it there someday.  For now however, I prefer as few Bangkok days as possible.  Perhaps in the future I will experience a Bangkok night that will replace my ill feeling but for now I think I will stay in the north and happily wave good bye the moment my plane leaves the ground.