I don’t know where to begin ….Ricky and I just returned from the most incredible weekend trip. …DAY ONE: …I was a little apprehensive the day we were leaving—spending four days with complete strangers in a place I’ve never been and unsure of what exactly we were to be doing—but my concerns were obliterated when I arrived at Ricky’s school and met Indira and her son, Atcha. Unfortunately after the walk from my apartment to the Skytrain station, including a 500 foot walk down the street with a 50 pound garment bag, a hike up two flights of stairs, two sets of escalators, then switching trains, the walk back to Ricky’s school in the heat and the sticky, smelly brown fog that engulfs Bangkok every afternoon, I was sweating and my mouth was so dry I felt as if I had been eating dirt when I made my first impression. But they were so nice and genuine and down to earth that I just knew we would have a great time. A great time we did have. …Indira, Atcha, Ricky and I left directly from BCC and met Manop, Indira’s husband and Atcha’s father, about one hour south of Bangkok. Manop got out of his car and I was impressed by him. We introduced ourselves, got back on the road and chatted and drank yummy German beer in the car. He went to university in Berlin in the 60s and has since gone on to do amazing things. He is friendly and intelligent and Ricky and I enjoyed the time we had to get to know that family. Once we connected with Manop, we drove to Hua Hin (half way to the city we’d go to catch the boat to the island the next morning), had dinner with his family, and retired for the night. We found out that we were going to Ko Nang Yuan, an island about one kilometer off of Ko Tao. (a call to action--my fellow Americans: besides from ours, the only other countries on this planet that are completely 100% non-metric nations are Myanmar and Libya. That ain’t the best company now is it? Maybe we should change—I read that it would be better for American business too). The island is really three connected by a sandbar. And, we were going to the island along with a very large family to scatter the remains of the patriarch of the family who, in November, died at the ripe old age of 101 (he would have been 102 in 14 days). We were reassured that event was a celebration of his long life and we were excited about the chance to meet new people and witness a Buddhist tradition. …On the ride down, we saw a motorcycle accident. Not the actual accident, but the remnants of what had obviously been a fatal collision. Because they really don’t seem to enforce any helmet requirements outside of their larger cities, and their rules of the road seem chaotic at best, what we saw that day is probably a too-frequent occurence all over Thailand. The young man was sprawled out beneath his motorbike—a Honda Spirit or Wind or whatever they call those little 250 cc motorbikes that everyone seems to own—in the middle of two highway lanes. The traffic was directed onto the inside shoulder to pass while the people inside their cars were either cringing or gawking at the scene while the people on the outside of those safety-bubbled vehicles were standing in horror and seemingly motionless. There was a layer of powdery-white stuff covering the bike and the young man and a five-foot circle around them like there had been a fire or something but no glass like the young man on the bike had connected with something else. I thought maybe it could have been for the blood or something but the man just looked asleep on the ground and not really smashed in or anything. We passed it pretty quickly but for those 10 seconds or so I felt as if time had stopped. My breathing, everyone else in the car, the people outside (except for the policemen waving traffic by) just stopped. Frozen. …And then we passed it, and the family in the front of the van starting talking a language we can’t comprehend and Ricky and I, in the back of the van, looked at each other not used to seeing such a thing. We said a couple things to each other and forgot about it. …We stopped in Hua Hin for dinner with Manop’s brother and sister. I tried a spicy dish with snails in it. Only one snail actually made it past my lips. How come the things that taste so revolting are the same things that require a good 30 seconds of chewing before they’re malleable enough to pass your mouth and into your stomach? It’s a cruel world. Chewy doesn’t describe it…it lingered in my mouth and teeth like fatty, over-cooked pork except for the fact that it had those long eye-bally antennae in the front and a little snail-tail in the back. Manop’s brother said it’s very popular in France, but I live in Thailand so I don’t have to eat it. The other food was delicious—I always like going to dinner with Thai people because I get to eat things I don't know how to order—and Manop’s brother and sister were fun. We had red wine and a great Thai dessert (probably the ONLY great Thai dessert) with coconut cream and little balls of dough—much better than the crushed-ice and fruit-jellies kind. Ricky and I stayed at Manop and Indira’s condo on the 11th floor of a building overlooking Hua Hin beach. With two balconies. They stayed with Manop’s family because the condo was “very small” according to them, so they showed us in and gave us the key. It was twice the size of our apartment with a t.v. and air-conditioning and a bathtub with a huge window looking out onto the beach surrounding it. And two balconies. Wow. We got there late in the evening and there were hundreds of green lights littering the ocean. Squid-fishing boats. It took Ricky an hour and a half to figure out how to turn on the water. I admit that I was of no value in that endeavor. That’s HIS job. It was funny when he finally called down to ask for help (after turning and unturning and turning again every single faucet or valve in the place), and the security guard came in, went out into the hall and turned on the master switch, or whatever it is, with one clink of a wrench, or whatever it was, and then water started pouring out of every opening with a fury that could have rivaled Victoria Falls. Water in the kitchen clanking onto the steel sink that was two feet away from the tap, water in the bathtub, water in the bathroom sink, and water coming out of two valves, directly onto the floor (the one with the hose to wash down the toilet with when you’re down and one that just hit the floor for no apparent reason) and pooling up and over the floor mats. And I was laughing so hard that I was having trouble turning them off. Ricky thanked the security guard and ran into the bathroom with the sopping wet floor in his socks. All the while there is a Thai soap opera blaring in the background. Funny moment.
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