Off the Grid Travelog

November 9, 2002

The air in Bangkok is oily, wet, and thick with smog. Today, the sun hides behind a vast expanse of gray. Our concrete balcony looks out onto a small street, Soi 2, a tributary of Thanon Sukhumvit, a bustling street that runs roughly East-West (it seems that no streets here, regardless of size, conform to any sort of grid) through the eastern section of Bangkok. Even in the thinnest, most downtrodden of lanes, vendors plunge their fare into spitting bowls of oil and then line it up in neat rows on their carts. We recognize some of the food; the fruits are easiest to identify: pineapples, mangoes, melons. At mealtimes, chairs and tables appear from nowhere, blanketing sidewalks that swarm with hungry Thais and travelers. The guidebooks tell us that street vendors often offer the best in Thai food, but we are lucky to stay at a guesthouse renowned for its victuals. It boasts the largest selection of vegetarian Thai food in the country (the tofu melts in your mouth) and has proved delicious.

On our first jet-lagged morning, I ordered a meal fit for a queen: consommé soup with tofu; spicy salad with shallots, peanuts, spicy basil, mint, and miniscule red peppers that walloped my nasal passages; tofu stir fry; and, of course, rice. Needless to say, I barely made a dent in it, but nonetheless slurped, chewed, and groaned with pleasure with every bite. Tomas ordered pancakes and claims that the waitress giggled as she removed my half-eaten platters. I, on the other hand, rubbed my bulging tummy and patted myself on the back for my adventurous spirit. I paid for it later. Shamefacedly, I must admit that I now join Tomas in his breakfast pancake eating. In my defense, let me say that these are no ordinary pancakes (which I really don't like at all). They are light, filled with just-melted bananas, and are served with a slice of lime and a honey-based syrup that tastes like nectar (or at least how I imagine nectar tastes).

After breakfast, we visited the Siam Society after bravely walking down Sukhumvit from Soi 2 to Soi 21 (also called Soi Asoke). It was there that we committed our first embarrassing social faux pas. The beautiful teak buildings were under renovation, but we gained permission to travel the grounds and have a look. Some folks tinkered around at the far end of the grounds, so we came through the back way. The houses sat on stilts about fifteen feet high, forming large shaded porticos beneath them. Of course we were intensely curious about the houses themselves, so we walked up the steps to peer in. Mind you, these were the BACK steps. Soon, we meandered our way to the front house (the houses were connected by elevated walkways), where some men worked on renovations. We smiled and nodded. We admired the glossy teak floors. Tomas walked across the glossy teak floors to peek into the room under construction. Ah, what beauty. We then skipped down the front steps to the lush grass below. And, sauntering away, I stole one last look at these glorious structures to see a sign tacked onto a stair at eye level, "Please remove shoes." I grabbed Tomas' hand and swallowed the urge to sprint out the front gate.

We are still adjusting to the time zone here. Because in some ways I still feel like a ten year old, I've chagrined that we didn't shake off the fatigue with a full night of sleep. Our bodies think it's the middle of the night at 2 PM and make every effort to stop us in our tracks. We have been able to hold out until about 7 PM every night before we begin to feel like the living dead. Soon after, we're sawing logs. I managed to keep my eyes open until 9 PM last night and am going for the record tonight, so help me God. As you can imagine, we are waking up at ungodly hours…hours during which drunks from the night before are still stumbling out of bars. The upside is that we get an early start when the heat hasn't quite reached hellish levels. Actually, I'm being dramatic. It hasn't been hellishly hot yet. We're still sweating like obese wrestlers whenever we walk more than ten feet, but I keep assuring Tomas (and myself) that our bodies will adjust and it's really not that bad. In fact, there's a nice lukewarm breeze playing on my neck right now.

It's hard not to feel big, loud, and lewd here. I've never realized before how often I squeeze Tomas' butt in affection. Affection of any kind is frowned upon, except for holding hands, which is okay, apparently. However, the only Thais I've actually seen holding hands are teenage girls, so I'm suspicious that the guidebooks are only trying to make some concession to us flesh-loving folk.

The grease for all social interactions is the effervescent smile. Those of you who have known Tomas since his high school and college days know that he usually tries not to be caught smiling in public. He's got to "keep his game face on" so to speak. If he smiles, he thinks that they will have something on him, an edge over him. Slowly, his jaw is thawing and the friendliness of the Thais is wearing him down. I think he'll have a @#%*-eating grin on by the time we roll out of Thailand. At least that's what I'm hoping.

I forgot to mention, the smile is usually accompanied by a head nod. I am confident that Tomas will add this flourish as he eases into smiling. I, on the other hand, feel like one of those head-bobbing dogs that you buy in Mexico. While I smile a lot to smooth the edges with my fellow human, I've yet to master a sincere-looking smile that works for all occasions and can be accessed at a moment's notice. You know, a photo smile. My photo smile resembles a grimace more than anything.

Yesterday we joined a zillion (largely unsmiling and profusely sweaty) tourists at the Wats and the Grand Palace. Let me just say for the record that tourists of all nations are equally gross (I am, of course, putting myself and Tomas in the category of "traveler" rather than "tourist"). I could write a tome on the subject, which would surely bore, enrage, or otherwise bother you. We (mostly Tomas) got some lovely pictures of the majestic temples that speak for themselves. The emerald Buddha took our breaths away. I only wish that I could have jumped up on all those conveniently stepped golden mounts to get a closer look.

To end our day, we treated ourselves to hour-long Thai massages at Wat Pho's massage school. While I came away feeling rested and relaxed, Tomas felt a bit battered by the whole experience. Thai massage does require a bit of flexibility, for they contort you in all kinds of ways to straighten you out, so to speak. We hope to get another one today (they are ridiculously cheap, like $4 U.S. cheap) to keep us pliable (or in Tomas' case, to render him pliable).

Mosquitoes are diving into my flesh and my stomach is rumbling in hunger, so off I go. Monday night we take the overnight train to Kho Phangan for a good dose of tropical paradise. Stay tuned!