" Houses are full of things that gather dust " - Jack Kerouac
Culture shock is as inevitable in a place like Bangkok
as it is that it's streets will ever resemble anything other than
what could be mistaken as, if only briefly, civilized. The man whose
job it was to paint lanes on the streets here must be forever sad, as
his efforts have been entirely ignored. The sensation and feeling of
apprehension one should get before entering a taxi or tuk-tuk in this
city is the same one should get before getting on a particularly
rickety roller coaster, or before storming the beaches of Normandy
even, I should think. The manner in which they function is not of
this world; it isn't human. The driver I was blessed with left only
inches between the vehicle in front of us and the poor excuse for a
motor bike behind us as he was making blinker-less, blind turns into
raging traffic; and he was highly certified, as he insistently
pointed out a time or two by showing me the pictures of him receiving
his certifications, rather than the certifications themselves, of
course; while driving, mind you. If driving conditions should be
classified as white water rapids are classified, the streets here
would be Class-5 or perhaps even the catalyst to invent higher
degrees. And the colors! The taxis are neon green, sky blue, hot
pink, bright yellow, and eye-sore red. What a mess. Kind of a
wonderful mess though. I'm not sure that I would want Bangkok to be
any different than this. It is precisely how I imagined it would be,
and not a measure off. This all after only hours in the city.
Wonderful.
Before
Departure:
In an effort to keep myself entertained, I will travel to Southeast Asia – the release back into unemployment; the seven
vaccinations needed; the $600 malaria pills required; the
prescription antibiotics necessary; the 28 hour flight to Bangkok in
wait – all a good start in that general direction. I will be
traveling alone, yet again, and only those I meet along the way will
accompany me. I expect to find a miraculously foreign place, filled
with unknown languages, strange smells, stranger food, wonderful
people, odd landscapes, white sand beaches, aqua-blue and crystal
clear water - the whole while under beautiful and treacherous weather
alike. As always, I have made plans, and, as always, I expect those
plans to be miserably misshapen and mutilated along the way.
Countries on the itinerary are Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos,
Malaysia, and Indonesia. Whether I get to all of these will be up to
Buddha, I suppose. Four Months seems to be an appropriate window of
time to do all that I plan to do, so this is how long I have planned
to do it, naturally. Here's to throwing myself at Asia; let us hope
it catches me!
In Flight:
I would not be telling the whole truth if I said that I
didn't feel a tad reluctant flying over countries like Syria and
Iraq, in order to arrive in Dubai for my connecting flight to
Bangkok. Civil war and international conflict tend to do that to a
Westerner, I suppose. A rational mind does not stand a chance
against an irrational thought, I've found. Anyway, my experience in
Dubai was very limited, but as far as I could tell, luxury is the way
of things in the city. I shall say no more and let the length of
this paragraph reflect the amount of time I spent there, and my total
knowledge of it. I must come back – this I know.
Upon Arrival:
Culture shock is as inevitable in a place like Bangkok
as it is that it's streets will ever resemble anything other than
what could be mistaken as, if only briefly, civilized. The man whose
job it was to paint lanes on the streets here must be forever sad, as
his efforts have been entirely ignored. The sensation and feeling of
apprehension one should get before entering a taxi or tuk-tuk in this
city is the same one should get before getting on a particularly
rickety roller coaster, or before storming the beaches of Normandy
even, I should think. The manner in which they function is not of
this world; it isn't human. The driver I was blessed with left only
inches between the vehicle in front of us and the poor excuse for a
motor bike behind us as he was making blinker-less, blind turns into
raging traffic; and he was highly certified, as he insistently
pointed out a time or two by showing me the pictures of him receiving
his certifications, rather than the certifications themselves, of
course; while driving, mind you. If driving conditions should be
classified as white water rapids are classified, the streets here
would be Class-5 or perhaps even the catalyst to invent higher
degrees. And the colors! The taxis are neon green, sky blue, hot
pink, bright yellow, and eye-sore red. What a mess. Kind of a
wonderful mess though. I'm not sure that I would want Bangkok to be
any different than this. It is precisely how I imagined it would be,
and not a measure off. This all after only hours in the city.
Wonderful.
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