You Thought Chicago Traffic Was Bad? Try Bangkok!

Whenever my friend Jessica and I would ask Smith how long it was going to take us from point A to point B in Bangkok and elsewhere in Thailand he would give us the following response, "Anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours, depending on traffic." Wow, now that's a big range! I thought he was exaggerating simply to discourage us from coming up with yet another impractical idea that began something like: "How about if we..." Soon enough, however, I realized he was actually telling us the truth.

When I say traffic is brutal in Bangkok, I mean it really IS brutal. There are many choices for transportation when you're a tourist and I guess the fastest option is a moto-taxi. We saw plenty of people old and young get rides on those taxi motorcycles. They were zooming through the city with no trace of fear on their face. I could not be dragged by force onto one of those. I saw the way they were weaving through traffic along with hundreds of other scooters and motorcycles and I had not one single particle in me interested in participating in this survival of the luckiest.

Another note that needs to be made about seeking rides in Thailand is that the idea of carpooling is taken to a whole other level. I've seen entire families, including the dog, ride on a single motorcycle on our road trip in Costa Rica, but at least there, it wasn't taking place during rush hour and with other riders practically breathing down your back. In Bangkok, on the other hand, you had the baby in the front, either standing or seated, the father as the driver and the mom seated sideways in the back all on one motorcycle and, to top it off, in the middle of a crazily congested street.

Our preferred form of transportation were tuk-tuk's or passenger-adapted motorcycles that made plenty of noise while producing heavy exhaust fumes, but amounted for an interesting experience, were cost efficient and granted great people watching opportunities so we made use of them whenever possible. We even made a historic entrance as we pulled up to our fancy Shangi-La Hotel in Chiang Mai (Smith's surprise for us) in a loud tuk-tuk. Needless to say, no one came out to ask if we needed help with our luggage, which was kind of hilarious and we certainly had a good laugh over that one.

The view of from the Executive Lounge of our hotel, compliments of Smith. Yes, we were quite spoiled in Chiang Mai.

One final note on the topic of traffic though. Our last night in Bangkok and Thailand, Jessica and I decided to venture out into the unknown in search of the Harley Davidson store. Well, we got so inspired... Naaah, we weren't going to buy a Harley in Thailand (!) or anywhere really, but we did want to get our dads nice souvenirs in the form of a Harley Davidson t-shirt that also happened to say Bangkok, Thailand. Well, Jessica wanted it as her dad does own Harleys and I wanted it too as my dad has always dreamed of owning one. We were pretty exhausted, but we finally made our way out of the condo and fetched a cab. We had a picture of the map on Jess's phone together with the address and a picture of the store itself. The driver seemed content with the material we supplied and he began driving. Well, not really. We basically just got ourselves stuck in traffic. It took about an hour to traverse a distance that earlier that day took about 10 minutes. Again, Smith was right. That, however, was just the beginning. Once we were moving, we started passing through areas we had never seen before, some of them really nice, others not quite as pleasant.

For some reason we didn't take any pictures of the Harley store, we were so flustered about the ride and focused on getting the shirts. This picture was taken right after the event at a restaurant that the Harley employee recommended to us. We happened to love the place and spent another two hours eating and having great wine.

Several times along the way we thought we were close, but then the driver took another turn and then another turn. We had no idea where we were. The streets are all marked, but they're mostly in Thai. The driver spoke not a word of English. We began worrying. I'm not one to have negative thoughts when things don't go as planned even in foreign countries, but I was not sure how this was going to play out. Fortunately, after a few u-turns and stops to ask for help, we arrived at the store, hidden in a dark side street, some four minutes before it closed. The entire trip took almost two hours and, thanks to the fact that this was Thailand, it cost us no more than 250 baht, a heaping $8.26! All the while we sat there worrying, we could have just relaxed and been grateful for the "accidental" 2-hour tour of Bangkok for some $4/person.

On Getting a Yantra Tattoo in Bangkok

I'm sure many of you, together with a good number of our friends, will think it is absolutely crazy to get a tattoo using a bamboo stick. Well, you may be right. And yes, we did our research. The tools they use do get disinfected. Does the artist use extra precaution? I would not go that far. It is a risk as any other, but the decision had been made and we just had to trust that nothing bad would happen. 

Let me begin by saying that finding information about where to get a yantra tattoo in Bangkok was not as easy as we thought it would be. We spent days reading people's blogs and forums and looking over websites. The thing is, these tattoos are supposed to be done by monks. They are considered sacred, so they can only be placed on the upper part of your back. Plus, if you do end up going to a temple where they offer to do those tattoos on laymen, it is up to the monk to decide what tattoo you will get. That complicated things because we wanted the tattoos to not be so visible and we wanted a specific tattoo, not the one chosen by a monk. This is when we got our Thai friend, Smith, involved in research. He forwarded us a website of the most talented and known tattoo artist, a former Buddhist monk and a practitioner of Thai magic in Thailand, yes, the same one that tattooed a Hollywood superstar. And no, that is NOT why we went to him. Well, he rarely does the tattoos these days anyway, it is his disciples that do them. Ours were done by one of them, a tall and muscular man (to Smith’s surprise) who observed us intently as he negotiated the price with Smith and discussed the choice of the tattoo. We came in with the last of our money for this trip and, combined, seemed like we couldn’t even afford one tattoo. As we began walking out, our artist pitched in his last offer, two tattoos for the initial price he had given us for one. Helpless, we looked at Smith who suddenly materialized the difference from his pocket and so we got ourselves a deal.

How did all this come about? It was the night before our last day in Thailand. Jessica and I were sitting in the internet lobby of Smith's condo in Bangkok and chatting with Smith about how to get to the temple-like place the next morning, avoid traffic and be there before any other people. We decided to leave at about 5:30 am, we were that serious about making this happen. Bangkok was just waking up as we drove through the main streets and then onto an unpaved road. "This is the real Thailand, right Smith?" He agreed. There were no more shopping centers, no flashy posters, no crazy traffic, just a sandy road with wild vegetation, simple wooden huts and run down buildings, stray dogs and only occasional temples, almost over-elaborate in contrast to everything else. We passed by a group of monks dressed in traditional orange robes, their heads shaven and walking alongside the road barefoot. It seemed like we were on the right track although we still had to stop and ask for directions.

As we pulled up to what looked like a temple, but was not a temple, as Smith informed, the gates were still closed. We were early. Way early. It didn't matter though. Soon after the guards opened the gate and we parked the car in a designated parking area, I changed into my temple-visiting-clothes and we looked around. The outside had two areas set up with statues of all sizes both Buddhist and Hindu, placed in order of importance and merit. Smith suggested we pray at one of the altars. He handed us several incense sticks and had us repeat after him in Thai. The prayer took quite some time as we asked him over and over to repeat the lines and slow down. It took so long, in fact, the ashes fell on my hand and burned it pretty bad. I jumped, looked at Jessica in shock, thinking, is this a bad sign, and then Jessica jumped as she burned her hand too. We hurried with the rest of the prayer feeling a bit apprehensive about the reason behind our trip to this place. 

The tattoo itself took an hour each and it WAS painful. It started off like intense poking into the skin that felt uncomfortable, but not unbearable. That was only about 1/5 of the tattoo. The real pain kicked in right after that and it grew exponentially. I sat there praying, meditating, trying to relax my body and, above all, reminding myself to breathe and relax my muscles. The digging into the skin soon became so excruciating, I wanted to cry. I envisioned myself getting up and breaking into an uncontrollable weep. I didn't care that there were other people around me. I didn't care that I wouldn't look tough. I just wanted to release the pain through the tears and make it go away. Suddenly everything became a nuisance, even Smith trying to film me as tears poured down my cheeks. I had an urge to throw something at him, to make him move away from me. And I just managed to say, "STOP. Please stop!"
Somehow, though, the pain was also therapeutic. It was as if all the pains I have suffered converged into that one spot on my back and they were so intense and so overwhelming, all I wanted to do was to get rid of them through this cathartic release that just wasn’t coming. 
Before we left, we asked for a blessing. As the water trickled down my sensitive skin, I finally felt the release in my muscles and my emotions. My body gave into the words pouring out of the mouth of the monk and I thought, things are the way they're supposed to be. Everything will align itself perfectly, just like the five sanskrit lines on my back. All that has happened, happened for a reason and the lessons learned are just that, lessons, conditioning for life, education. What comes after that is GOOD. Just good. It cannot be otherwise. Such was my prayer as I left that place marked for life, to help me remember the pain as the most intense purge that created space for the calm acceptance of everything that was yet to come. 

On our way out, we received booklets written in Thai that explained the meaning of each line. We asked Smith to translate them as best he could and this is what he came up with:
1) Giving your home (body) a balance (good energy)
2) Helps zodiac sign... Predicting bad and changing it to be good
3) If something bad happens to you and it is not your time it will keep you alive... Any voodoo will do no harm to your body
4) Good luck... You'll be successful in the future (job, marriage, life in general)... Whatever endeavor you engage in
5) You'll be charming and popular to the opposite sex
Perhaps not the most graceful translation, but the main ideas are outlined. Thank you Smith for taking us to the right place, lending us money and being our translator. None of this would have been possible without you!

That morning ended as such. Exhausted, we threw our bodies on the bed and took a restorative nap. Smith took this picture before he left the condo, probably laughing hysterically. I don't blame him. It is kind of funny. We barely slept the night before, woke up before the sunrise and then subjected our bodies to a continuous pain for a full hour. This was more exhausting than a 16-hour flight from Chicago to Hong Kong. Nonetheless, mission accomplished and what a beautiful ending to this very special trip.

Thai Kickboxing for a Free Bucket

Before we went to Thailand we were warned against consuming alcoholic beverages served in buckets, apparently a popular drink among the tourists. Reason being, some people died from it, it made the news, and so the story goes... This is not to belittle the deaths of those people, it is very tragic, but come on! It is a bucket filled with alcohol, that's for starters, and, secondly, it basically begs for someone to mess with you and pour something else into it. It does not take a genius to figure out that those drinks are meant to do you harm. Well, we stayed away from those like from the devil himself.
So then Jessica's decision to Thai kickbox after our booze cruise made little sense considering that the lure was that you received a free bucket drink in exchange for volunteering to fight someone publicly with a helmet and gloves and the whole shabang. We all thought it was a fantastic idea, that is, myself and our new best friends that we met on the cruise and then later in the street. The guys themselves did not want to partake, but one of them was kind enough to lend Jess his shirt. I could not believe though that she actually raised her hand, wearing her little dress, and asked for someone to come challenge her. I secretly hoped no one would do it, but then a generously built girl volunteered. Oh boy!

As I stood by the corner, I saw hesitation in Jess's eyes and a bit of crazy in her opponent. It worried me. I felt responsible for my little adopted sister (that's what I call her) and something told me this was not going to end well. The crowds went crazy as soon as they started. There was screaming, cheers and excitement. The reason being, this was not a girl on girl fight. This was an actual fight and I think even Jess didn't anticipate how serious it was going to get.
After the first round, I saw she wanted to give up. I wanted her to give up too, but I didn't even get a chance to voice that. The second round was brutal. The other girl got even crazier, kept punching and kicking. I stood there with my eyes closed regretting I ever let Jess do this. Finally, she gave up after the second round. She looked a bit disoriented and in a lot of pain. Terrible idea, Marta, I thought to myself!

Well, we laugh about it now, but the poor thing still has bruises all over her legs the size of a soccer ball and a beat up foot. And the bucket? We gave it to one of our new friends. He didn't want to drink it, but he sure carried it like a trophy!

Bob's Booze Cruise

The best thing about being on busy Koh Phi Phi Island is the possibility of getting away from it on one of the many available boats and visiting other neighboring islands and their luscious beaches. We had our reservations about going on a booze cruise primarily because of its name, but the high ratings and recommendations online convinced us otherwise. The booze cruises that I have been on in the past involved nothing but the consumption of ridiculous amounts of alcohol and then being witness to overboard projectile vomiting. Well, this cruise was nothing like that. In fact, the alcohol was a nice option to have while enjoying the breathtaking surroundings from or off the sailboat.

The voyage started off a little rough. It was the 1st of January and the festivities of the night before were painted all over everybody's faces. To add insult to injury, the waters were not friendly that day. We already knew this because the day before we were clutching onto the long tail boat for our lives, as we decided to make a trip all the way to Maya beach. The boat rocked mercilessly, tipped from side to side and splashed heavily into the waters making it seem like we were on a rollercoaster. I prayed we'd get there safely.
Well, the next day was no different and perhaps, with a hangover, even worse. After a short stop by Monkey Beach, which that day was no longer a beach but just rocks and trees with monkeys, I was seriously contemplating getting off the boat. The powerful waves were a little too much to handle and the only thing that made me want to "suck it up" was the undesirable prospect of spending the entire day on Phi Phi island instead (read: too commercial and touristy for my taste). So I stayed, drank plenty of iced water and focused my eyes on the islands in the horizon to make the nausea go away.

Thankfully, our captain and boat owner, Bob, navigated the waters in such a way that enabled us to avoid the worst of the rocking and I started to enjoy the ride. The weather was perfect, sunny, but not overwhelmingly hot. The breeze enveloped our bodies as we cruised around the islands. It was such a treat to be part of those surroundings and our companions on the boat made the experience all the more enjoyable.

A little bit about Captain Bob. Originally from Canada, he sailed on his boat all the way from Vancouver. When asked how long it took him to get to Thailand, he responded humorously, "Eight years." Obviously, the 8 years are populated with stories and we managed to extract a few while watching the sunset. If Bob were to write a book about his experiences on the waters and lands of the world, I would certainly read it. Who wouldn't? He has lived a life majority of people only dream of, but would never dare to live. Bob took the -ism out of "tourism." It is an appealing and tempting concept, I have to say that, imagining his adventures, I began longing for that type of life.

As we sailed, the weather conditions called for a few adjustments and we had to eliminate cliff jumping from our itinerary. I had no objections. The idea of free falling is not exactly my cup of tea. Instead we kayaked to Maya Beach where we roamed around taking in the surroundings. 

The Captain also offered to give us insight into the islands we were visiting. The one that shocked me had to do with birds' nests that get harvested in the caves of those rocks. The caves are accessed through an antiquated and highly dangerous technique using bamboo sticks. There have been incidences of deaths reported as people tried climbing the steep rocks in search of those saliva-made nests believed to serve medicinal purposes such as "aiding digestion, raising libido, improving the voice, alleviating asthma, improving focus, and [being] an overall benefit to the immune system" (I got that off of wikipedia as I couldn't remember all the health benefits). The nests are valued at a price higher than gold, therefore, they have been the cause of armed conflicts and gang control until the government took matters into its own hands. Bob had an unpleasant experience of his own when his boat lingered close to the caves for a little too long and suddenly was faced with guards reaching for their machine guns. All THIS over an innocent bird's spit woven nests that also happen to contain high levels of minerals. The human kind and its preposterousness will never cease to amaze me!

 As the sun neared the horizon, we slowly made our way back. The wind and the waves prevented us from going back to the place of departure, so we arrived from the side of the beach where Slinky bar offered nightly fire shows and beach parties. From there we got picked up by a long tail boat that took us to the shore. The sky bid farewell to us with warm reds and yellows. Everything seemed so peaceful and well balanced. Many of us voiced we were staying with Bob on the boat, we didn't want to leave. It was one of those perfect days, a perfect start to the new year and the day was not over yet... Thank you, Captain Bob, for hosting such an amazing event. I dedicate this blog post to you!

The In-convenience of Plastic

The abundance of and over-reliance on plastic in Thailand really got to me as soon as I stepped foot in one of Bangkok's numerous food markets. Sure the presentation might be appealing with food nicely lined up, wrapped in tiny plastic bags and ready to consume. But many of those food items are hot (like meat or rice) and when placed into a plastic bag, well, don't they become toxic? As I watched people munch away on all those goodies, it didn't seem like they were worried about any health risks.

I was worried though. Even more so when I saw floating plastic bottles and used bags in the river that we crossed in a long tail boat to get to the temple. Surprisingly, or not, that same contaminated river is densely populated with fish, fish that surely feeds on particles of that plastic mistaking it for food and fish that later ends up in those markets. At the end of the food chain we find ourselves ingesting double the amount of toxins - from those fish and the bags they're placed in. How can you not react to that?

Everyone around me though seemed quite tranquil and relaxed about this situation granted they probably never reflected on it from that point of view. And why didn't they? Well, I blame the governments for it and on their support of great corporations that thrive on the production of cheap and easily portable material that destroys the planet we inhabit. I blame it on lack of education and perhaps inadequate campaigning on the part of environmental organizations. I also blame it on globalization and capitalism that robs people of time and resources to prepare their own food and lower the dependence on premade meals.

I wasn't aware of this, but I learned from these two Canadian girls who were teaching English in Thailand that most families there do not have a kitchen at home. It is much cheaper and more efficient to eat at the market. It was really hard for me to wrap my mind around this concept. How can you ever satisfy your body and soul by eating food that had been prepared by somebody else? It is bad enough that we no longer live in a society where we would have to fetch our own food, let alone eliminate the step where the food we consume actually passes through our own hands. I find that disconcerting and quite dangerous to the human kind.

I am not about to sit here and say that the United States is doing a much better job about saving the planet. Oh no, certainly not. I did, however, remember one event that took place in New York some 10 years ago when I used to live there. The Super (the man in charge of maintenance) in my apartment building ran into me as I was throwing away some garbage and hearing a rattling sound inside my bags, he yelled, "Stop RIGHT there!" I stood there confused as he inquired, "Did you FORGET to recycle your glass?" And I responded, "I don't know. Maybe?" He wouldn't let me go. I was dressed up for work and he wanted me to open my garbage bags and dig out the glass right there and then. I told him he was crazy and I left the bags at his feet. As I returned home that night, there was a note on my door explaining the laws of New York about recycling and the fines associated with the failure to comply with them. Wow, I thought, this recycling business is no joke. Although I hated that Super with a passion, I appreciated his militant approach to the problem. We need people like him all over the world! Even if he didn't understand why he was told to make sure people recycled, he would at least be successful in instilling fear in people who dared to litter.