Goodbye Bangkok

My last two nights in Bangkok were experiences on opposite sides of the infinite spectrum of those to be had in the City of Angels. In my mind, these two nights summed up my experiences and opinions of the crazy place I’ve called home for the last eight months.

On Friday, the girls from work took me out to see a bar run by a former Communist politician with house bands that play so-called “Thai Cock Rock.” I was looking forward to seeing a live band – especially with the promise that they didn’t play the usual blend of Thai pop rock. As the only white people in the place, everyone turned to watch as we walked in and sat down. According to Thai drinking customs, we ordered a bottle of whiskey and mixers. The bottle comes with a graduated sticker down the side – if you don’t finish your bottle, you write your name on it and get assigned a card with a number on it so that you can claim your bottle the next time you are back at the bar! It also comes with a server that hovers around your table, ready to top up your glass as soon as it drops below half full. This made it virtually impossible to gage how many drinks you’ve actually had! When the band finally took the stage, they convincingly looked like cock rockers. But unfortunately, they played the same not-so-exciting Thai pop rock that is every where else, with some extra guitar solos. The girls had a great time dancing (exciting the Thai men way more than they were aware) and I had a great time representing the Maple Leaf with my Canadian colleague, drinking way more than anyone else, and soaking it all in.

My last night was virtually the opposite. It was Loy Krathong, a festival where Thais float beautiful offerings made of banana leaves, flowers, incense, candles and money, apologizing for their sins and asking for good luck in the next year. Walking around the lake at Chatuchak Park, the city seemed so calm and beautiful. This was the beauty I first found wandering around Wat Po, but that is so easily forgotten when getting lost in a taxi and not being able to communicate, or getting out of breath walking up a flight of steps, or being constantly stared at by people in my own neighborhood. It was a perfect way to end my time there and reconciled me with the City of Angels.

In my darkest moments, I couldn’t wait to get out of Bangkok – the noisy, polluted city that I just didn’t click with. But in the end, I found myself not wanting to say goodbye… not so much to the city, but to the people I met, the immensely rewarding job I was blessed with, and moments of history in the Burma movement that I witnessed and in which I participated.

Initiation to the Rainy Season

I witnessed today the biggest and scariest thunder storm of my life. I am normally the kind of person who watches in wonder and is amazed at the force of thunder, lightning and intense downpours. But I admit, I was a little frightened by this one! The thunder cracks were deafening and the rolling ones seemed to last for minutes. The rain came down in buckets and in jets from the roof, flooding the entire garden. And all of this lasted for almost half an hour! My first GIANT Thai thunderstorm!

Homesickness and Mae Sot

It’s a beautiful drive out of the flat Bangkok area, past huge termite mounds and ancient igneous intrusions, and up into the mysterious foggy jungle-covered mountains. I descended on the other side, out of the fog and into the interesting border town. Mae Sot is a miniature version of Thailand, where the cultural diversity is so strongly felt because of the concentration of people, but which is granted an unmistakable Burmese feel by the golden pagodas, the men in longyis and women with thanaka on their faces. The town is buzzing with NGO workers and volunteers, who fill the restaurants and bars with interesting discussions of their work (especially over some wine at Canadian Dave’s) or smile as they ride by on their bicycles. Every time I visit, I meet the most amazing Burmese activists who have risked so much to be there. And who continue to put themselves at risk of being arrested, fined or even deported in order to attend capacity-building and advocacy trainings.

On my second trip to the town in 3 weeks, I discovered that the hotel where I was staying at was also the final stop for refugees being resettled overseas. All day long, there were people sitting at the entrance of the large hall, looking longingly into the distance and the mysterious future that awaits them. I know the resettlement process is long and these people have spent years waiting, but this is the last time they will be within eyesight of their country. They are approaching the moment when they will have to leave all familiarity behind and embark on a journey for which they are undoubtedly not prepared, despite the efforts of organizations like the IOM, UNHCR and IRC – for who is ever ready for such an uprooting? In comparison to the whirlwind of emotions they must be feeling, the homesickness that has overwhelmed me in the last couple days now makes me feel selfish and weak. I come from such a sheltered life and a country of remarkable freedom – free from soldiers, bullets, landmines, hunger, systemic rape, torture, forced labour and displacement. I left my home voluntarily and can go back whenever I want. As I watch these people, my ability to return to my comfortable life surrounded by the people and the country I love begins to seem like an excessive luxury that these people don’t have. They are leaving the life and everyone they know behind, and it will likely be years before they can come back. I can’t begin to imagine what homesickness must feel like when you know you can’t go home.

Bangkok Parties

Party note #1: I took Losang out for birthday drinks while he was here, and after our first bar closed, we decided to check out the only other club on the block that was still open. Little did we know it was a “girls’ club,” as one of the guys there told us – it was a gay bar with a transvestite show later on! I thoroughly enjoyed myself, watching all the gay guys check out my very straight friend, smiling at the transvestites, and getting hugs from gay guys welcoming me to the place and asking about my “friend.” I even ended up acting as a bodyguard for Losang so that he wouldn’t get his ass grabbed again! I guess one time was plenty for him!! Besides the hilarity of being there with a straight guy who was really uncomfortable with the advances on him, I was really struck with the strong sense of community. I have been to a couple of gay clubs in Montreal – good places to go dancing with the girls and not have to be annoyed by guys hitting on you! – but this was really different. Everyone was so into it and supportive and treating the “girls” doing their show on the stage like they were fabulous divas. It was really interesting and touching. I guess it makes sense in a place like Thailand where transgendered people are so widely accepted anyways.

Party note #2: Tourists are crazy! The white people in the clubs on Khao San Road tend to think that because they are on holiday, they can do anything. They grab random people, drink way too much, wear traditional Thai hats while pole-dancing on stage, say retarded things, and hit on prostitutes without knowing it (for more on this phenomenon, see Party note #3). There is a difference between having a great time and just being stupid! There are times when I am almost ashamed to be considered one of the white, horny, obnoxious, and rude tourist masses.

Party note #3: I hate to say it, but some of the stereotypes of Bangkok are not that exaggerative of the reality. Sex is for sale everywhere, from covert dens labeled “massage parlours,” to the Patpong area, to most nightclubs. On one of my latest outings, a coworker who has been here for a couple of years engaged me in a game: he would give me 10 baht for every prostitute I correctly picked out at the nightclub. It was really hard! First of all, Thai girls really enjoy dressing up when they go out. I’m sorry if I offend anyone, but a lot of the girls dress just like the prostitutes. Any guy who has been to a club in Thailand has surely been hit on by a prostitute, with or without knowing it. And I think that a lot of guys probably have stories of going home with a girl, only to find out after sex that he has to pay for it… I’ve heard a couple of stories of just that happening! Anyways, it took me a while, but after closely watching them interact with several guys, I found about 6. And I made friends with a couple of them who kept dragging me to go dance. I think they felt sorry for me, standing there alone. Little did they know that I was quite well entertained – I’m sure it’s been done, but an anthropological study of the sex industry in Thailand would be very interesting and very fun to undertake! That is, until you get into the sad reality of girls being forced to be prostitutes and the violence and disease that I’m sure go along with such an industry.

Party note #4: Thankfully there are some fun places to hangout, with a significantly lower probability of hitting on someone of the wrong gender or profession. Last weekend I discovered the Saxophone Pub, a smoky lodge-type bar with live music every night. The night that I was there started off with a cool blues band covering some Hendrix before bringing a rasta on stage to sing a couple of songs. They were followed by T-bone, a huge 10-member band that was playing a really impressive mix of ska, jazz, funk, and soul, with a touch of latin influence… pretty much everything! It was totally wicked and just the kind of place I was looking for :) Definitely better than the prostitute pick-up bars!!

An Improving Tour Guide

It’s interesting trying to show someone around a city that you don’t know that well yourself! We got lost way too many times, but I think I managed to show Losang a few fun and interesting parts of Bangkok. In the process, I also learned a lot about this crazy city that I call home for the time being.

I finally got to see Wat Arun, a temple that I’ve been admiring from afar since I got here. But my favorite stop with Losang was a Muay Thai fight – you’re right, Owen, it really is wicked! Fighting is definitely not my thing, but this really is a cultural experience that should not be missed. Each match starts off with the fighters praying and doing dances to their ancestors and teachers, before they proceed to elegantly kick and punch the crap out of each other. Some of the matches were brutally hard to watch, but thankfully the crowd was just as entertaining as the fighters! The matches started off to a calm but attentive audience. The people betting on the fight were occupied analyzing each kick and punch, deciding on which fighter they were going to put their money. As the rounds progressed the crowd got rowdier, yelling with the landing of a punch on their chosen opponent or moaning when their guy got kicked. In the midst of the rising tension, the gamblers started calling to one another and waving their fingers (in what I assume are the amounts of their bets). Passive watchers rapidly joined the vocal and passionate masses. And like a rollercoaster, it ended way faster than it started, only to begin again with the next match.

One of the matches was between a Canadian and a British man ­– cultural appropriation caught in the act! Just like the Thai fighters, the two Westerners started their match with the traditional prayers and dances and the anthropologist in me couldn’t help but wonder if these customs actually meant anything to them. At first, I thought that the crowd would not really be into this fight – the highlight of the evening was the previous match, plus it’s two white guys! I was immediately struck by how different their fighting style was to that of the Thai fighters. The Westerners were a lot bigger and clumsier, fighting mostly with punches; the Thai fighters were much more elegant and were equally good at punching and kicking their opponent. After the first two rounds, the crowd definitely got into it – the white guys were surprisingly putting on a good show. I even stood up in support of the Canadian, much to the amusement of the betting men in our area! In the end the Canadian lost, after way too many punches to the head. I’m really surprised that he managed to walk out of there at all, but I guess dignity would have been an important factor.

So, I’ve been initiated into the world of Muay Thai and being a tour guide… and I’m ready for my next tourist :)

My first Thai Buddha

The reclined Buddha at Wat Pho in Bangkok.
Originally uploaded by jspan.

Ive posted a few last pictures of Bali. If you want more of Bangkok, you'll have to go here.