Farewells

Our first group is already down by two. I can’t imagine leaving already. There is definitely a different rhythm to life when you have a limited time in one place. For them, the goal was to see all they could see for the short time they were here, while I have the luxury of settling in and enjoying the natural rhythm of life (the down side of which, sometimes the natural rhythm of life can be boring!)

This was a week for farewells: Wednesday night was the last night we could all go out since two of the girls were leaving for the weekend on Thursday morning; Thursday night we were down to four, and Friday just myself and one other volunteer.

Wednesday after the massage class, we headed down to one of the many local bars. Three of us had yet to ride in a tuk-tuk and since we weren’t going far, and the other two were leaving this weekend, we opted for this, slightly more adventurous, mode of transportation. The cab came for the rest and left us standing on the corner. After about 20 cabs and no tuk-tuks, we were ready to give up (ok, I wasn’t, I had my heart set on a tuk-tuk, but acknowledged that we could get one on the way back…). Luckily for me, the next vehicle to pass was a tuk-tuk. Now I haven’t ridden in the back of many golf-carts, but I would venture to guess that riding a tuk-tuk is somewhat like riding in the back of a golf-cart, but with a supped-up engine - in a video game.

While the basic rules of the road, i.e. green means go, red means stop and drive on the left, seem to apply in Bangkok, their application seems to be varied based on the situation, except, of course, for green means go, which always applies. Due to this, as a passenger on the roads of Bangkok, you literally put yourself at the mercy, not only of your driver, but of the millions of tuk-tuks, taxis, motorcycles, songthaews (small pick up trucks with two benches in the back), cars, buses, mini-buses, pedestrians and stray dogs that happen to meander across five lanes of traffic. Our ride to the bar was no exception.

We climbed in, three to the seat, and headed off over the bridge accelerating to what I hope was the tuk-tuk’s top speed, only to lurch forward as the driver came to a screeching halt behind a large truck at the first red light. As we turned the corner, we dodged a few motorcycles and pedestrians, only to be confronted by a tuk-tuk speeding down the wrong side of the road. Our driver expertly avoided the on coming tuk-tuk and kept on at the same pace right past our friends standing on the corner waving madly and seemingly oblivious to our shouts of “Yu ti ni, ka! Yu ti ni! (Stop here!)” He pulled over about half a block from the bar and we deliriously exited the tuk-tuk, happy to be on solid ground, but knowing that probably wouldn’t be our last tuk-tuk ride.

Thursday, down to four, we decided to go out in style with a drink at the Bamboo Bar in the Oriental Hotel (one of the world’s top 10 hotels). We all dressed up in our fanciest attire (which for me was a stretch since I packed, not for drinks at the oriental, but slogging through muddy streets during the rainy season in Vietnam) and caught a cab to the Oriental.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. The place is massive and extremely tastefully decorated. The lobby is quite large, made even more so by its high ceilings and is furnished with couches and chairs, temporary roosts for impeccably dressed guests waiting on taxis or watching the crowds flow by. The two sets of doors to the inner courtyard were glass from floor to ceiling and parted automatically as you walked through. The courtyard contained a large pool surrounded by tables and lounge chairs and was bordered by separate buildings on all three sides, the fourth giving way to a beautifully constructed skyscraper that lit up the sky.

On top of the Bamboo Bar, on the ground floor on the right after the “Casa de Habana” for all your cuban cigar and brandy needs, was a restaurant with an entire wall (I couldn’t see either end) of florescent lit fish tank filled with brightly colored fish. The Bamboo Bar itself is straight out of a movie and I half expected to see Richard Gear sitting at the bar with an empty glass and a wistful look on his face. At the front, sit a pianist and sax player, filling the bar with soft jazz as the smartly dressed waitresses bring you your fruity beverage of choice complete with an artistically twisted straw wrapper. We spent a relaxing hour or so sipping our drinks and enjoying the temporary break from our usual routine.

On Friday, I joined Tony at his last rounds at the hospital and luckily for me there was nothing going on (my stomach lurched just at the words “mass casualty” above the emergency room door!”). We also spent a few hours at one of the local community clinics where the doctor goes once a week to hear patient ailments and prescribe treatments. One after the other, middle aged to old aged Thai’s came in and pointed out maladies (a heat rash, a swollen ankle, a sore that wouldn’t heal, a muscle strain). We were told that the most common ailments among the people in this community are due to the nature of their work as farmers, although apparently one woman’s legs had atrophied because she sat around all day and did nothing. One thing that was common among almost all of the patients was high blood pressure, high cholesterol and diabetes, possibly (?) due to diets high in sugar and coconut oil.

Friday evening, everyone had left but Tony and I, so we decided to head out to Sit at Side for one last time. After a few beers, we decided to check out the dance club scene in Thailand and asked our new friends at the bar for a recommendation on a good dance spot. Surprisingly, they pointed us towards Kho San Road, which seems to be the strip in Bangkok, not only popular among young tourists, but also among young Thais.

When we arrived at the club, Sabai, it was empty and we were just about to turn around when a young Thai girl grabbed our arms and pointed upstairs, where we were greeted by pumping dance music and a room packed full of young Thais. The music was mostly familiar to both Tony and I, although we were the only foreigners there (Unfortunately the Thai music that I’ve heard is more suited to elevators than dance clubs) and we joined a group dancing near the door and made about 10 new friends. Leaving the club around 1 a.m., we found ourselves back out on a street filled with people and lured by the tempting aromas, sat on the curb people watching and enjoying some street pad Thai.

I saw Tony off to his cab at 4 in the morning and headed to bed until about noon the following day.