Let's go to the studio!

Recently I've been trying to devote myself more to music and to working on new songs. Now, you may think that it's something that would be really difficult to do living in a tiny Japanese apartment with paper-thin walls. Sure, I can get away with playing my acoustic at home, but anything louder than that and I'm going to start being "that guy" in my neighborhood. And not just "that guy", but actually I'd be "that foreigner," which is not really a reputation I want to have with my neighbors. Either way, I'm not the only one who wants to play my guitar as loud as possible in the crowded suburbs of Japan, and the Japanese have found a way to deal with this issue. Practice studios. Convenient, affordable, and totally awesome practice studios.

Found near most decently-sized stations, these awesome little shops have a floor full of sound-proofed, fully stocked studios waiting for you to come in and play as loud as your little heart desires. Seriously it's great. You walk in from the street with your guitar or drumsticks and into a studio fully rigged with a drum set, more amps than you could ever need, a PA, mics, stands, mood lighting, and sometimes even mirrors on the walls so you can watch yourself rocking out. I feel like a kid in a candy store every single time I walk in and see all of these instruments just waiting around, begging to be played as loud as possible. The shops even have chilling out areas and beer fridges. It's seriously a musician's dreamland. Japan is the only place I've seen these kinds of places, but I would love to see these in America. I wonder, though, if most Americans are capable of being well-behaved enough to have one of these places even last.

Anyways, after spending a lot of money and energy on my last trip, I've been laying low and spending a lot of time in these places. Last weekend, my buddy So came over and we just chilled at my apartment with our guitars. We worked out a few song ideas and tried to get a clearer picture of what kind of project we want to create. After that we hit up the local curry shop to get some grub and hit the studio with our friend Satoshi. It's a great experience to work in the practice studio with friends. Sure, it's fun because you get to screw around with instruments. But at the same time, you've got a time limit, so it kind of forces you to be productive and put out something worthwhile. After all, even though you're only paying about 20 bucks for two hours, it's enough motivation to not waste any time. It's a nice spark for the fuel of spontaneity.

So we did our thing, packed up, and called it a night. Maybe you'll be hearing some of that musical goodness soon.

On Crutches for a Month

As some of you may have heard, after sustaining some battle damage in Cambodia, I wound up with a broken foot and, as such, have been relegated to hobbling around on a pair of crutches for the past three weeks. I got the crutches in Japan, so all my hobbling has been done around town here. In fact, last weekend was the first time I even left my town in almost a month, so it was really exciting for me. Like, really. I was like a kid at the carnival. You'd have thought it must've been my first time ever on a train I was so excited. Anyways, although it's really not that bad, it's definitely been a huge pain. But, of course, the experience has taught me valuable life lessons...

First, using crutches is a MAJOR PAIN. Simple things that you do every day without ever noticing like walking, opening doors, using stairs and elevators, and carrying a bottle of coke to the counter of the convenience store become huge, involved tasks. Although crutching around has gotten much easier for me (actually I've gotten pretty good, doing things like crutch-sprinting, long crutch-jumps, the one-crutch 180, and other awesome tricks) the first couple of days were not fun. I could only go about a block before I needed to take a breather. Then, I'd hobble down another block before I needed to stop again. What used to be a 10 minute walk from my place to work turned into a 30 minute upper-body workout. I'd get home to burning shoulders and arms and aching hands. On the bright side, my hands are looking totally buff now.

As far as the life lesson... I've simply come to a deeper appreciation of what its like to be on crutches. It's not something I ever recall thinking about. I mean, I've seen people on crutches before. I was aware that it probably is not much fun. But it was never anything that I really thought that much into. Well now I know and will most likely be extremely aware of anyone who isn't walking around on two feet or can't use both arms and will definitely go out of my way to be more considerate to them.  I talked about it with a student of mine who had broken an arm and a leg (on two separate occasions) and we both had come to this same conclusion. It's like you've suddenly joined this secret club, and your eyes have been opened to this world you never knew existed before.  I feel like I've got to look out for my brothers and sisters in crutches from now on. I'm not talking about anything too serious here.  Just things like opening a door or moving out of the way. When every little thing has become a task, even those little things people do really make your life a lot easier.

Which brings me to my next life lesson, take care of your body. Eat enough, exercise, get sleep, don't jump off of things and break your foot. This is one of the fundamental rules of traveling that Navid and I came up with on our trip to Thailand, and it has only been further impressed upon me by this experience. When traveling, or really any time (but especially traveling), your body is your most important tool. You need it for everything you do, and if it's not functioning properly, you're going to have problems. Although the power of human will has proven to do amazing things, it is totally useless without the body's support.

Thailand Part 7 - Long Journey Home

Navid and I were so beat from the party we were praising God for the three hours of sleep we were able to get before we had to be on the move. And, we'd still have enough time to leisurely make our way to the boat. Our flights out of Bangkok were leaving the next afternoon, but we'd planned everything so we'd have plenty time. All we had to do was make sure we were on the night bus back to Bangkok that day. We got back to the room, I set 5 alarms on my cell phone, and face planted on the mattress, out before my head was down.

I awoke what seemed like seconds later, feeling surprisingly well rested for what was basically a long nap. And my alarm hadn't even gone off yet, so I could still get a little more sleep. I happily put my head back down and got comfy. But, something didn't feel right. I propped my head up, furrowed my brow thinking through the fog of sleep, and tried to put my finger on it. It came to me slowly. I was feeling really well rested. The angle of the sun seemed odd for this hour of the day. No. It couldn't be. I set five alarms. I reached for my phone and flipped open the screen. Ok. So its X:45 now... So that means our boat leaves in... 15 minutes.

15 minutes?

What?

No.

I check again.

Yup. 15 minutes.

The last boat we could catch that day...

Panic.

"Navid."

"Navid wake up."

He must have sensed the urgency in my voice, because Navid shot up, hands planted on the bed, eyes wide open (but not quite aware.)

"Dude it's X:45."

He blinked his eyes, trying to process the information through the grogginess.

"Out boat leaves in 15 minutes."

He thought for a moment. We looked at each other.

We shot off our beds like freaking rockets and started throwing crap into bags. No griping. No despairing. There wasn't enough time to waste. Immediately, we started talking, assembling our plan. We needed a taxi to the boat. We needed to check out. We needed our passports, money, and our return tickets (the holy trinity of traveling.) Ok. Call a taxi. I'll pack. Then I'll check out. Meet at the front desk in 5 minutes. Ok. Go. No discussion, no questions. Just go. Before we'd even agreed to meet at the front desk, Navid was out the door.

My mind is running a million miles an hour but my body is moving even faster. In the bathroom, grabbing soap and toothpaste and so on by the handful and shoving it in my bag. Back in the room. Clothes in the bag. Camera in the bag. Passport. Money. Ticket. Check. Check. Check.

Out the door and running to the front desk. The front desk clerk looks freaked out as I charge straight for her. I need to check out. Here's my card. We gotta go. Sign here ok let's go.

As I'm waiting for the charge to go through, tapping my foot and drumming my fingers. The taxi pulls up. Are we ready to go? Navid. Where's Navid?

I turn and see him running down the hall, clothes hanging out of his bag, with a bewildered yet determined look on his face.

Ok let's go! We hop in the cab. No need for bags in the trunk. We gotta go to the dock. We've got 4 minutes and it takes 5 minutes to get there. JUST GO!

We pull up onto the dock and go to pick up our tickets. As we come out of the car the woman at the ticket counter is yelling, "I thought you weren't coming! Hurry! Hurry!"

"Where's the boat?" we ask and she points. Over our heads. About a hundred yards down the beach on another pier we see a hunk-a-junk old boat still tied up.  Grab the tickets and back in the cab.

Someone gives the cabbie his cash as we're jumping out the door and land smack dab at the end of the line for the boat. That's right. We were the absolute last two souls to get on that full boat. Good God. Good God we had made it. We were dead last but dead last still gets on the boat.

I think everyone on this boat had also come from the Full Moon Party. The boat was covered with bodies strewn about like this.

It wasn't a classically "beautiful day", but something about the day was so peaceful and calm

Navid and all the other party people

 We flopped down on some seats on the boat and crashed from the adrenaline. We were too tired to even laugh much. I was so grateful to just sit there and not have to do anything. Now that that had been done, we had nothing to do for the rest of the day except sit back and take it easy. The boat ride was a piece of cake and after that we were just herded to busses and bussed around. Met some cool people and talked to pass the time.

The most colorful bus I've ever been on

I love this picture

The next day we woke up in Khao San Road and had the morning to see some temples. It was a much needed day of moving slow and spiritual cleansing. Saw what we wanted see, cabbed it to the airport, said our goodbyes, parted ways.

Khao San Road

Wish I could've taken pictures inside this temple. The interior was even more intricate and colorful. Truly amazing. But, then again, maybe it's best just as a memory...

Buddha knows what life's all about.

And that was the end of the (first) Thailand trip.

Beijing International Airport at 2 a.m.

Thailand Part 6 - The Party

OK, so from here on out I'm going to be trying a different format for the blog. It's going to be shorter, more frequent, and not necessarily in chronological order. Basically, it's going to suit my schedule and fluctuating motivation levels much, much better.

Before I dig into anything else, I need to finish up the Thailand story from last year (2010/2011), which has two stories worth being told.

Navid after being asked "Do you want to go to the Full Moon Party?"

The first was the Full Moon/New Year's Eve countdown party, which was, hands down, the best party I have ever been to in the entirety of my life. Some of you may know I've been to a party or two, and this one takes the trophy, for sure.

Takin' a stroll around town

Navid and I were staying on an island about an hour's boat ride from the party and, try as we might, couldn't book a hotel for the night. (It can be difficult to book a room on New Year's Eve the day of, apparently...) So from the start we knew it was going to be a long night, which was cool, because Navid and I have survived many a long night in the past. We met some cool English folks on the beach at our hotel and decided, "Hey, what the hell. We've got some new friends. Let's all go to the party."

Thai boats (not the ones we took)

We get to the island and hop on the first tuk-tuk we see, and, as it's pulling away, a very, very drunk man, running and waving his hands wildly in the air, chases us down and hops on the back of the tuk-tuk. I knew from the first glance that this guy was bad news. He spends the ride to the beach drifting in and out of consciousness in between crazy stories about being awake and partying for 3 days on end by means of various drugs, shouting unintelligible curses at noone-knew-what, and throwing bottles off of the back of the tuk-tuk. Good Lord, was this the level of partier that attended such events? Perhaps Navid and I were in over our heads...

A cool roadside restaurant that, I'm pretty sure, gave me some food poisoning. Eh, it was really good. Totally worth it

We arrive at the beach, get our bracelets and push our way into the already seething tumult of partying. The party covered the beach, extending about 200 meters down to a cliff with a huge bar perched on top. Along the beach were somewhere around 7-8 stages, each playing a variety of techno, hip hop, dub step, or anything else you could conceivably dance to. The beauty of having the party on the beach was that the DJs could blast their music as loud as possible without interfering with the music at a stage 10 meters to the left because it all blasted straight out into the emptiness of the night sea.

Geckos love Thailand!

In addition to the stages, food stalls, and party lights lining the beach were these nice little establishments which I'll call "Bucket Stands". For those of you not familiar, "the bucket" is a world renowned drink comprising of; A) A can of soda. B) A can of redbull. and C) A pint of the liquor of your choice, all over ice and drank through a straw from, you guessed it, a big ol' bucket. I opted for the cheap Thai rum. You know, to experience the local culture.

Some of you may think that the pint of liquor would be the most dangerous ingredient in the bucket. But, you would be wrong. It is definitely the red bull. Within 30 minutes I'm deep in the fray, heart pounding, bouncing up and down, screaming sweet jubilation, and dancing like I've never danced before to the strange and wonderful sounds of music I'd never even heard in dreams (I think it was dub step).

A giant fire heaving up and down catches my eye and I need to investigate. As I draw near, I can see that a couple of hippies standing on platforms are swinging a huge (8 meters?), flaming rope in a giant, burning game of double dutch. The light from the fire illuminates the ring of spectators, all of whom are either screaming, hooting, or staring wide eyed, itching to dive in but afraid to move. I find my way to the front, look up at the rope and think, "Holy crap. I HAVE to do this!"

After a couple rounds the ground clears and I dash in. WHOOSH. The rope swings down and glides under my feet. WHOOSH. The rope swings around again and I'm surprised how naturally this is coming to me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air and I see this guy run in to join me. WHOOSH. I'm in the air again and I watch the rope of fire slap the back of this klutz's legs. BAM. I fall on the rope and bounce back up, recoiling from the heat. I assess the damage. My right arm no longer has any hair, but that's it. Then they bring out the ring of fire.

Other than the amazing fiery jump rope of death, Navid and I are able to participate in the headlong dive through "the fiery ring of fire", and the death-defying slide down the "slide that goes pretty close to some fire". It was AWESOME.

The countdown itself was actually the most fun I've ever had at a countdown. At the stroke of midnight, the beach exploded with cheering and music, complemented perfectly by the fireworks exploding overhead, reflecting beautifully on the waves crashing to the shore.

The rest of the night involved singing all of the classics by Green Day and Oasis (horribly out of tune), and dancing, dancing, dancing until the sun came up and it was time to catch our boat back home. We made it back to our hotel in time for breakfast and had enough time to catch 3 hours of shut-eye before our boat left for the mainland.

Thailand Part 5 - Out of the frying pan, onto an island (which was still really hot)...

I awoke with a sudden, sharp breath in the dimly sunlit dormitory to the soft clattering sound of fingers on a keyboard. One leg under the sheets, the other hanging half off the bed, I licked my dry lips and blinked as my brain slowly made sense of my surroundings. It's funny that no matter how many strange rooms one may sleep in over the course of one's life, waking up in a strange room is often a bewildering experience.

It was hot, and upon discovering Navid on the other bed across the way, I began to put the pieces together.  Thailand... Phuket... right. It was still hard to believe, even though we'd been traveling around the country for a couple of days. Up on my feet and moving, I felt the cool tile under my feet as they slapped along on the way to the bathroom. I cranked the shower and splashed some water on my face. The hot water and smell of cheap soap were stimulating and I felt the grogginess lifting with the steam of the shower.

Downstairs to the kitchen, it was time for something to eat. Everyone was sleeping in and lounging about quietly, so the place maintained the peace of early morning even in the late morning. I sat on the patio and looked out over the town as I enjoyed my breakfast. Even the town itself, it seemed, was waking up late and just now getting started. I chatted idly with a few of the others from the hostel. Talking about what was next and what to do.

I was joined by Navid and we set to making our plan. After a few minutes of discussion, we came to the conclusion that we had pretty much gotten the full Patong experience, and that there really wasn't much more we could do to improve on the past night without getting into some real trouble. So, it was decided that we would move on to our next destination. If not to see more of the country, at the very least for the sake staying out of trouble.

But I was eager to talk with everyone about everything as my energy started coming back. There was talk of a Thai kick boxing show in town. I'd noted the mobile, truck-side advertisements cruising the streets the day before and was definitely curious about that. Word on the street, however, was that it was too showy and staged for the tourists. Clearly, Navid and I are above such things, so we'd have to wait and see if any opportunities to see a real match would show up.

Navid was eager to get on the move, but we had plenty of time, I assured him. We ought to take a walk and soak up the beauty of Patong a bit before moving on I said. After much idle chat and dilly dallying, we made it out. We scuffled around the sun-beaten streets in our flip flops, muttering and laughing here and there. Navid, bless him, constantly gave me patient reminders that we needed to be going soon. But it was early yet, and there was much to see. Navid picked up a towel, or a tshirt, or something. We wandered around a while longer. Finally, when I could think of no other ways to waste time, I conceded that, yes, maybe it was time we be moving on.

So we gathered our things at the hostel and said our farewells. I had been so charmed with the place that I was a little sad to be going after such a short time there. But, as Navid and I had discussed, it was time to move on. So, it was onward and upward.

We hopped a cab. It was hot, and, as I'd managed to spend plenty of time taking things slow in the earlier hours of the day, it was best that we take the quickest route back to the bus station.  Our cabby was a heavyset, enthusiastic and conversational fellow. Basically, everything a cabby should be. We inched our way through the packed streets of the city center with the windows up and air conditioned cranked, feeling very VIP, as the cabby sat sideways in his seat, talking to us like we were old friends, with one eye on the road, of course.

The streets were unbelievably packed for mid-afternoon on a weekday. I looked over at Navid, who was starting to look a little concerned, yet still patiently agreeable and easygoing.  At this point, however, there wasn't much we could do save enjoy the company of our cabby, who had no problem opening up and letting all his stories and ideas come pouring out. It was energizing to be around someone who was so enthusiastic. He just started talking and started telling us all about his life and all the great things in it. His family, his past, the town, everything you'd need to know about the town. Perhaps that's one of the hidden perks of being a cabby. You've got these short spans of time where you don't have much better to do than talk with strangers. You can tell them whatever the hell you want to. It's not like he was ever going to see us again. Whatever the case, I appreciated the man's openness and sincerity.

As we climbed up to the crest of the hill, traffic started thinning and things started moving a little faster, gradually.  The sun was still shining and things were looking good. In no time, we were at the bus station. Like the last time we were there, we were immediately assailed by hawkers selling bus rides, van rides, car rides, and the like. The van rides definitely sketched me out. No thank you. We were looking for the first legitimate bus to Dongtan, the port town where we'd be taking our boat.

We pushed pass the pushers and through the crowd up to the bus station ticket window. Dongtan. We didn't speak a lick of Thai, but that was all that we needed. Dongtan, please. The woman behind the plexiglass hollered something like, "No more." No more? No more what?

No more busses today? Uhhhh. I looked at Navid. What was it going to be? Was it back to the cab, and back to Patong? We'd already cancelled our stay at the hostel for the night and didn't have anything booked there. We split up to check around the different tour companies to see if anyone had any more busses headed up to Dongtan that night. I wandered around, trying to sift through the English and Thai signs by each ticket window. Were these different companies? One company? How the heck was any of this organized, if at all?

Navid, the sly devil, had another trick up his sleeve. Navid came through the crowd and grabbed my arm. "Let's go man. I found us a ride to Dongtan, but they're leaving in 5 minutes." We were out of options and out of time, so I followed him out of the bus station to a white van parked next to the curb. No decals, no taxi car number, no nothing. Just a white van. A story Navid had been telling me about some friends who had been taken up into the mountains of this region in a white van and robbed at gunpoint flashed to mind. But it was the last ride to Dongtan, and the sky was beginning to darken.

A handful of backpackers standing next to the van began loading their packs into the trunk. It was just about time for take off. I hesitated for a brief moment. I'd always been taught not to get into white vans with strangers. But, on the other hand, it seemed legit enough. Plus, one of the backpackers we'd be sharing the van with was pretty good-looking. So, hey. Why not give it a shot?

Deep in deep thought

So we threw our packs in the back and hopped in the van, ready to enjoy a few hours of relaxation on the road. We set to talking to our van mates, who actually turned out to be pretty great people to be stuck in a van with for a few hours. They were from Finland, pretty much doing the same kind of thing Navid and I were, traveling around Thailand on their time off and having fun. Like most of the European travelers we'd met so far on our trip, the Finns had the luxury of enjoying a ridiculously long holiday. Navid and I, both on our vacations from our respective teaching jobs, had only one week, which we were accustomed to coming from America, for our trip. We couldn't believe how many people we'd met from other parts of the world that were swinging two week, one month, and even multiple month vacations. America seriously needs to get on that bandwagon. It'd be a good one to ride on.

The friendly Finns

Unlike most of the European travelers we'd met, though, our friends in the van spoke amazingly perfect English. Almost no accent whatsoever, no grammar mistakes, and vocabularies that put most Americans' to shame. And they were great conversationalists as well, fortunately. So, we chatted for a while while they drank their big bottles of beer which they had wisely purchased before we'd left. As they finished their beers and the sun finally went down, everyone settled in for a good nap.

The view

I couldn't really sleep much, so I watched the forests whiz past and daydreamed for a good while. The southern part of Thailand really is pretty beautiful. It's so green. There are huge, forest-covered bluffs here and there. Along the highway, there are countless fruit stands, vegetable stands, and every other kind of stand you could imagine, where people trying to make a living wait knows how long for customers. A while later, I heard rousing behind me as our friends began to wake, and heard muffled talk of a bathroom break, which actually sounded like a pretty good idea. In my daydreaming, I hadn't really noticed, but I had to go pretty bad. Navid was on board too. So we called up to the driver, "Toilet, please." "OK OK" he said and waved up his hand.

Our friendly driver

I hadn't seen any gas stations on the drive. Nor had I seen any other kinds of buildings that might have facilities for us to use. Just fruit stands. We waited for ten minutes, 15, then 20. Perhaps the driver didn't realize the urgency of our request. "Toilet, please." we asked again. "OK OK" he said and gave us another little wave.

We waited another ten minutes or so, and it started to seem that the driver wasn't really interested in pulling over for us at all. In fact, it started to seem like all he was interested in was making good time on his run. Our friends in the back started getting a little irritable, and their tone was growing less and less friendly. I was really starting to wish for the bathroom, too. Like, really. I began to feel glad that Navid and I hadn't gotten any beer for the road like our poor friends in the back.

Finally, a girl in the back shouted, "We need a toilet NOW! We have a man in pain back here!" "OK OK OK" said the driver, sounding resigned, and slammed on the breaks and pulled over right there. That was it? That was all he had to do?! We were all too relieved to be upset about it at the moment and all scrambled out the van door to run into the woods. The sounds of cars flying past and people saying "Oh thank God we pulled over" was all you could hear. And after what might have been about three minutes, I heard Navid calling from the van. I shot back to the van quick as I could and took my seat, relieved. Last thing I wanted was to be stranded on the side of the road in Thailand with no bag.

The rest of the trip proceeded without incident, and we finally reached our destination; the port we'd be catching our next ride at. We said our farewells to our friends and set to finding a ride to Ko Samui. It turned out to be quite easy, fortunately, as there were four big boats with big signs next to them that said things like "Ko Phangan" and "Ko Samui". Hoping we'd still be able to get a ticket, we rushed to the ticket counter, which was a collapsible card table, and asked for two tickets to Ko Samui. It was no problem. In fact, there were tons of tickets still available. Apparently, we weren't the only backpackers that weren't really planning ahead.

Fortunately, we had about an hour before we had to be cooped up in another vessel, so we picked up some Thai chicken pancake things and took a little break. There was a lot of excitement in the air. The dock area was packed with travelers, backpackers, and locals. Turns out there were a lot of people taking the night boats. I sat and enjoyed food and soaked it all up.

The view from my futon

Soon it was time to go, and we headed into the old wooden boat and up the stairs to the top floor to find our seats, or rather, as we found, our futons. The passenger compartment of the boat was one giant open room, lined with mattresses on the floor along each wall. The middle of the boat was essentially a giant cargo space with backpacks strewn about. We found our futons and flopped down. We settled in and started talking with some of our neighbors. Turns out most folk were heading out to the islands for the famed "Full Moon" party, which was actually the same thing we'd been drawn to the islands by. Neither of us really knew much about it, but it seemed like a good destination. It was starting to look like this party might possibly meet, or even exceed, our high hopes.

Some friends

More friends

After chatting, laughing, and playing some word games, it was lights out and time to call it a day. I lay down on my futon and closed my eyes. The boat was quiet except for the creaking of rotating fans and the water washing up against the side of the boat. I felt myself slowly drifting off to the rhythm of the boat's slow rocking. Tomorrow we would wake up at Ko Samui, and it would be a good day.

Thailand Part 4 - Patong Part 2

After sorting out the payment for the lodging and everything, we dropped our heavy packs in the room and went downstairs to unwind and let the heat leave our bodies. Our hostel was a really nice place fitted with a clean kitchen, nice living room (fridge included), and a breezy patio.

Sweet relief

We took a seat at the table on the patio and let relief set in. There was still plenty of daylight left, so we began discussing our options for the day. There was the beach, and of course exploring the town. My fatigue from the heat was still weighing me down considerably, so I was in no mood for either. We decided on both checking out the town and making our way to the beach after a shower and a shave... and some more time relaxing in the shade with a cold drink, of course.

The view from the patio and Canadian Phil

 It was my first time in a hostel, and I was quite pleased. The price was enough to make me happy, but what I really liked was the laid-back atmosphere of a home that the place had. It was far from the formal atmosphere that hotels tend to have, which can be exciting, but is nowhere near as comfortable. A big part of that atmosphere was the family-like relationship between everyone in the hostel. Sure, you had to bear in mind that any of your fellow hostel mates could potentially rob you blind if you left the opportunity open, but still, everyone shared that risk. I think the fact that everyone has to be more trusting of each other in this situation lends to them being a bit more open with each other. Plus, most backpackers are cool as.

Jimmi in the kitchen

 Being vaguely aware of the kind of folk hostels attract (through stories of friends or stories of friends of friends,) I was eager to meet our house mates.  And I wasn't disappointed. The first friend I met in the hostel was a super cool and inspiring individual by the name of Zsofi. I found her sitting on the couch with her laptop, casually tapping away at the keyboard. She'd been travelling around with her boyfriend for a while, and had landed in Thailand for an indeterminate amount of time. Zsofi didn't have a job at the time and didn't really know when she would have one, just that she would have one at some point. And yet she just sat on the couch chilling out totally relaxed, thinking about what else to do with her time in Thailand. Totally easy-going and confident. Awesome person!

Zsofi, keeping watch over the fridge

 After more lounging around and idle chatting, I managed to summon the strength to hoist my heat weary body up from the couch and up the stairs to the bathroom. Thai style bathrooms are really cool because the shower isn't seperated from the rest of the room at all. There's just a shower head sticking out of the wall and a drain in the center of the room's floor. So I cranked the hot water and set to soaping, shaving, singing, and dancing around the room, enjoying the sunlight pouring in through the window.

I came back down to the common room feeling totally refreshed and was ready to go. So Navid and I decided to meander down to the beach. And it really was meandering. The streets that climbed the hill our hostel was on wiggled and swerved every which way, making no sense whatever. But we stumbled along, vaguely following some informal directions we'd received at the hostel. Upon making it to the bottom of the hill and close to the beach, we found more shops, restaurants, etc. that you would expect to find in a beach town.

It was getting to be the later hours of the afternoon, and things were quiet, but in the bars and along the edge of the beach there was a feeling in the air that only now was the town awakening. Awakening, and getting ready for... something.

So we walked on down to the beach. I was hoping to get a little peace and shut-eye while I enjoyed the sound of the waves and sunshine. However, this was not in the cards for me. As I mentioned, we'd stumbled into a tourist dream vacay getaway and found ourselves on a beach completely covered with umbrellas and beach chairs. Loud, coconut and oil scented drunks milled about, raving and hawing in God-knows-how-many languages. Instead of the sound of waves and sunshine, I enjoyed the sound of drunk German and sand being kicked up by some fool as he marched down to the beach for some para-sailing action.

After an hour our so of doing my best to relax and enjoy myself on the beach, we decided to head back to the hostel and figure out some dinner. Walking back through town and passing the bars again, it seemed that the excitement in the air had intensified. The orange lights in the tiki bar had been turned on. Things were starting to get serious.

We returned to the hostel to change, I being not as rested as I had hoped and in need of some food. We took a little time to relax and talk about dinner and chatted with some more of our house mates. We all talked about who was from where and what there was to do in town. I met a Brit residing in Indonesia with a passion for professional appearance. I've never met anyone in my life so intensely passionate about something as mundane as ironed shirts. But those were his feelings and made them clear.

And as I had made clear to Navid, I myself had quite strong feelings about green curry. So we picked up and took off in search of the town's best green curry. The hill we were on was actually covered with smaller mom'n'pop restaurants and bars, so it was a matter of wandering around and falling into a seat somewhere. So we allowed ourselves to be ushered into some decent looking establishment and did just that. I didn't even need to look at the menu. It would be green curry and beer, of course. I still wasn't feeling 100% and, as we talked over our dinner, I began telling Navid about my concerns for the evening and the rest of the trip. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to go on, and the outlook for the rest of the week wasn't good either. Navid listened and nodded agreeably, saying things like, "Well, why don't we just take it easy for a little while" and "Let's have another beer" and "Let's have another beer." I was so glad to have such a patient, understanding friend. However, unbeknownst to me, the crafty devil had other plans in mind. At some point early in the week, Navid had discovered that while I do not always respond to words of encouragement or taunts, I had a particularly good response to alcohol.

I found a kitten! (Note: this kitten was NOT later cooked and served to us. We did that in Korea, not Thailand)

So he ordered another round of Chang and we talked about Thailand, and I started feeling pretty good. Maybe I wouldn't have to stay in that night. Maybe I could go out and see the town's night life, just for a couple of drinks. Maybe we were going to have an AWESOME time tonight.

Before I knew it, I was ready to go. We paid the bill and walked downhill. We followed the energy that seemed to be radiating from the town instinctively and felt ourselves drawing closer and closer to whatever it was that we would find. Suddenly, turning a corner, we had walked right into the middle of IT. The streets were packed with people, roving from bar to bar, shouting across the street, clamoring and crowding at bar entrances. Bass blasted from open windows of every bar. The entire block was a seething mass of activity. The sickly sweet smell of trash in summer heat mixed with the scent of sweat and alcohol.  Navid looked at me with a grin on his face. "Whatever happens tonight... let's just plan to meet back up at the hostel if need be" I said. He nodded. And with that, we dove in.

The only photographic evidence that this night ever actually happened. Probably for the best

Thailand Part 3 - Patong Part 1

After a long night of freezing cold AC and constantly jolting awake after having started dozing on each other's shoulders, Navid and I finally arrived blurry-eyed in Phuket, under-slept but optimistic.  Upon awakening in Phuket, I immediately noted the change in scenery. We had left behind the grit and grime of Bangkok and had exchanged it for a more dusty, natural kind of dirty. The sidewalks were still cracked and the buildings still had a simple, ramshackle quality about them, but there was much more greenery and the rooftops were lower, leaving the sky more open.

The beautiful blue sky of Patong

We pulled into the main bus station ready to go but not yet ready to move. While Navid and I were still groggily shaking off the night's poor rest, the station was buzzing with the early morning activity of hard work and travel. Everyone was eager to get a head start on the day while the day was gracefully cool. After having set one foot on the ground off the the bus, we were immediately greeted by a forceful and energetic woman of four feet and maybe an inch, couldn't have been any more. A barrage of questions, "Where you going? You want taxi? Where you going? I take you there. Where you going?" It was all too much with a stiff neck and an empty stomach. So I turned on my classic, Chicago-style ignoring, blatantly ignoring the woman as I wandered through the station, looking for a map of some sort. The ignoring, I found, was actually proving completely ineffective. As the woman remained by my side, talking loudly and incessantly, working hard for her day's money. And at such an early hour.

Navid and I being in no mood to deal with this sort of business, decided to hoof it and check out the surroundings. We began walking down the main street near the station in a direction that felt good and, after finding all the restaurants completely empty, decided on a nice looking one with outdoor seating. We each ordered the "American style" breakfast, complete with eggs, toast, coffee, and weird looking red hotdogs substituting sausage (I imagine) and hungrily set to eating without more than a word.

It was a good opportunity to clear our heads and get centered for a long day of god-knows-what. We had a hotel booked in our names, somewhere around here. So it was a simple matter of tracking
the place down. The sun wasn't too hot yet, we had food in our bellies, caffeine in our blood, and cash in our pockets. Things were looking up.

We wandered the town for a bit after breakfast to get a lay of the land, and soon realized that the only thing going in the area was the big bus station to get us out of the area. Returning to the station rejuvenated, we were immediately greeted by several of hawkers that had hounded us before.

Awake and significantly less irritable, we took the first opportunity that presented it self and set to bargaining for our fare.  The driver was a short, sun-wrinkled old man with tattoos up both arms and an honest enough face. He ushered us into the back of a "taxi", which was just some car, and, after we insisted on keeping our bags with us and not in the trunk, gave a nod of understanding and hopped driver's seat. We were in Phuket City, but needed to get to Patong. It turned out to be a good 15-20 minute cab ride up and over a small mountain. Navid, the fool, had wanted to walk it. But about halfway into the ride, feeling the sun getting noticeably hotter and the soothing AC in the car, we realized that listening to my whining about not wanting to walk was the best decision we'd made that morning.

We made it to the other side of the mountain and were silenced a truly stunning view. Looking down from the top, we could see steep, twisting roads snaking through the town. Brightly colored homes and shops covered the hills from top to bottom, giving the appearance of neighborhoods stacked upon neighborhoods. All of this was framed by beautiful green foliage of the mountain on the outskirts of the town and the beautiful open sky and ocean. It was a kaleidoscope summer paradise.

We slowly rolled down the mountain road behind a line of cars. 9 a.m. and Patong was already an anthill of activity. The streets packed with honking cars, sidewalks crammed with shouting, laughing people. It felt a bit chaotic, but the energy was everywhere and it was infectious. Navid and I kept quiet and just soaked as much of it in as possible. I could feel the excitement brewing in my stomach.

I handed the cab driver our hostel's address and he took a look at it, then gave it back to me smiling and shaking his head. He had no idea where it was, and it was no wonder, because the roads in Patong seemed to twist off in every and any direction they chose. I'd figure it would be a miracle if he knew where it was solely from the address, and apparently he did too. So, not knowing exactly where to go, we decided on hitting up a central area and working our way outward. And if Patong was known primarily for Patong Beach, then the beach was where we were going. To the beach, driver!

He dropped us off on the beach with no idea where we were. But it didn't matter, because we were here... we'd made it. I gave the guy a big tip because he'd been such a cool guy, and he drove off smiling. It took all of three seconds to realize we'd wound up on the beaches of a ritzy hotel tourist getaway. That being said, the influx of money had apparently created a legitimate city of its own. So we set off into the city in search of a net cafe and found one in no time.

Finding the hotel on a map took no time at all. It looked like a good hike, but manageable on foot. I was still keen on taking a cab, but Navid, being more money conscious and eager to see the town on foot, convinced me that we'd better walk.

So we moved on, me whining and moaning along the way from the time we set foot in the heat outside. I still wasn't really feeling 100%, but Navid argued that I'd chosen to take the taxi into town, so now it was his turn to choose. I couldn't argue with that, so, being the trooper I am, strapped my pack to my back and pushed onward. Not without a fair share of whining, I'll admit, but good lord it was hot.

We had to make a few pit stops. First in the McDonald's of a mega hotel's mall complex, where I chugged strawberry soda like it was the essence of life itself and had this nice portrait done by Navid.

I don't think I was really smiling this much...

After the next few blocks we started our uphill hike (which was not shown on our map.) The sun beat down and smiled it's sunny smile, almost mockingly. It started to occur to me that I was not 100% and wouldn't be getting there anytime soon. But, I kept on best I could because there wasn't any way I was going to feel better passing out in the hot sun. Navid kept me going with promises of cold beer every few blocks. Until I realized what he was up to and demanded that we actually stop for a real beer. Phantom beers can only keep a man going for so long.

Blessed shade

We took it easy in the shade and had our cold ones while I recuperated. We calculated that we must have been close and, when I was satisfied, we continued our trek. Honestly, the walk probably only took about 30 minutes without the stops. But I swear it was like the search for the holy grail for me.

A shot from our balcony at the hostel

At last, we spotted our place. "The Gypsy Room"'s sign towered above us, protruding from the hostel on top of yet another steep, steep hill. But our goal was finally in sight, and with one last push, we moved on up the hill, stepped into the cool air of our hostel, and kicked off our dirty sandals and shoes.

Thailand Part 2

Downtown Bangkok

 My first day in Thailand greeted us with warm sunshine and a clear, cloudless sky. More good omens for the beginning of our week long trip. With no hotel reservations, no tickets booked, and no travel itinerary, we had nothing but open road ahead of us.

We had a short meeting on the balcony as we surveyed the parking lot and highway outside our hotel. Navid and I had, originally, made a plan to see Bangkok then sweep across the southern islands of Phuket and Koh Phangnan before returning to Bangkok for our flights home.  The plan had been scrapped, and instead, swapped for a seven day stay in Bangkok. But given the levity inspired by the beautiful morning, and new-found information from Navid's Thai friends that Phuket isn't THAT dangerous, we decided to alter the plan, yet again, and somehow make it down to Phuket.

So we cleaned up, packed up, checked out, and hopped on the free computer in the lobby for some research. Talking to the staff of the hotel, we learned that it would actually be quite easy to get down to Phuket. All that it would require was a bus to the bus station, and an overnight bus to Phuket, leaving somewhere around 7pm.  I set immediately to finding some accommodations in Phuket and in no time, located a hostel about 20 minutes from Patong beach for, approximately, fifteen dollars of the grand old US of A. Needing some time online for himself, Navid got on and I stepped out for some fresh air.

Relaxing on a bench and basking in the sun's glow, I was soon approached by a friendly stranger. I invited him to join me on the bench and we started into some congenial smalltalk. What's your name, where you from, where you going? That kind of thing. We will from here on out refer to the stranger as "Jabar," as Navid has referred to him since. Frankly, his real name is not important. Jabar spoke many languages and, fortunately (or not) for me, English happened to be one he was very familiar with.  He had been traveling for quite some time, over a month at the time of our meeting, had started in England, and had spent the past couple of weeks traveling through Africa on his own. How fortunate I felt to have met such an interesting and well-traveled person so early in our trip.

I went inside to sort a few things out and, meanwhile, Navid stepped out for some fresh air. When I returned, Navid had already made good friends with Jabar. Such good friends, in fact, that it turned out Jabar would be accompanying us on our trip into the city. I'm certainly not one to turn down new friends, especially when traveling through a country in which I know no one. So, finishing the last of our arrangements, we decided to depart. We called a cab to bring us to the nearest station and collected our things, Jabar slothily shuffling up the stairs saying he'd be back down in five minutes.

Five minutes passed and no Jabar. Eight minutes passed and the cab arrived. Twelve minutes passed and Navid and I were seated in the back of the cab, assuring the driver that our friend would be down any minute now. Fifteen minutes passed and finally, the fellow shuffled out the front door and got in the van. No matter. I take way longer than I say I will all the time. And we were on vacation. So what the hell.

Trains in Thailand are much more lively and louder than those in Japan. Definitely more my style

We arrived at our station and hopped the train to downtown dowtown Bangkok. Navid and I were excitedly brewing up potential plans for the rest of our trip, and we were eager to hear about our new friend's plans and ideas. With a thirty minute train ride on our hands, we had some more time to talk and get to know our new friend.  Jabar had traveled through several countries in Africa, had spoken with the natives, and had even spent an evening dining in a mud hut with some people he had met in some city.  Now he was in Thailand enjoying the experience and going where the roads might take him. And of course, we were cool with that.

Navid was convivial as ever. Even when Jabar asked Navid about his (nonexistent) military experience, it was immediately forgotten as we lapsed into the next topic. We were bubbling with excitement and ready to see what was waiting for us.

View from the train station

One of the greatest parts of Thailand: street stalls selling amazing food everywhere

Some of it wasn't incredibly appetizing for me...

Thai consumer culture reminded me an awful lot of consumer culture everywhere else I've been. The ad on the right was for a Thai zombie movie. Sweet!

 We stepped off the train into the sweltering heat of the Thai winter and immediately decided that our first stop would be the massive, air-conditioned mega-mall straight in front of us. Through the sliding doors and down the marble elevator brought is into a giant, pan-asian, super-deluxe food court.  The air was filled with the scent of spice and clamor of chatter. All around us were people who, well, looked like people you'd find in a mall. We seated ourselves at what seemed to be the only available table in the joint and enjoyed our first experience of having absolutely no idea what the Thai staff was saying to us. After alot of smiling, picture pointing, and head nodding, we finally managed to order some food.

It was nice to have a little time to just relax and chat with my travel companions. I was, of course, eager to hear more about our friend "Jabar's" travel experiences and history.  After a few general questions, namely "Why did you quit your job and start traveling the world?", I started to get the feeling that our friend Jabar was avoiding the topic of his past at all costs. In fact, I started picking up on a variety of other strange things about our friend that made me think something was amiss. Not to mention his tendency to wander around slowly and stare at things. The guy was just strange, and not my kind of strange. I hadn't finished half of my curry before I'd decided that I wanted nothing to do with this guy.

The only photographic evidence of "Jabar"

It was a while before I had a moment to speak with Navid about the matter, but as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I moved in close and whispered, "Dude, we need to ditch Jabar." Navid, my man, was on the exact same wavelength. Within 15 minutes we had successfully exchanged emails, said goodbyes, and rid ourselves once and for all of this strange parasite.

It was at this point that we realized that we had nowhere to go back to, and not much time to wander the streets of Bangkok. We had only begun starting on finding a route to the bus station when we discovered that it was going to be a huge pain. Good lord, why had neither of us picked up a Thai phrasebook before coming? Trying to get bus directions in broken English had proved to be much more difficult than we had imagined, and after 20 minutes of asking various station employees how we might get to the bus station, wound up in a giant roundabout turned bus stop, staring at a good 50 busses, all honking and jockeying for position.

Scooters everywhere in Thailand!

I stood there dazed, checking every bus number, wondering how in the hell we were ever going to figure out which one was ours. The 406, the 52, the red one, the blue one, how could anyone make sense of this? Then Navid turned the awesome on. Narrowing his eyes and assessing the situation, "That one. There! Let's go!", he grunted as he began chasing down a moving bus. "Bus terminal bus terminal!" we shouted as the driver shook his head and began pulling away. Thankfully, the ticket lady on the bus figured out where the only two white boys on the street would be heading and that it was on her route. "OK!" she squawked and beckoned with a swooping, full armed, "c'mere" motion. The bus brakes whined and we hopped on as the bus sped out onto open road.

Having a moment to breathe after the excitement, I was able to have some peace. But it didn't last long. I couldn't help but notice that, although we were supposedly heading to the "southern Bus Terminal", the bus was heading north. I checked the angle of the sun. estimated our general latitude and longitude, and used my extensive knowledge of geography to determine that yes, we were heading north. I then realized that we surely must have gotten on the wrong bus and were certainly heading into the worst Thai ghetto conceivable
where we would be mugged, robbed, beaten, and left to die, if we were lucky. Panic started rising in my gut as the knowledge that we had stepped onto the bus of doom set in. What were we going to do?

It was at the peak of my panic that I heard a soft "Hello" to my left. I looked down to see a kindly old prune of a lady, peering up at me through giant rimmed glasses. "Where are you from" she implored. Oh dear lord, thank the stars above me. A Thai woman who spoke great English. "Chicago" I replied, "Have you ever been there?"

"Chicago?" she laughed, looking off for a moment. "I lived there for five years. Near Korea town."

Korea town?! I'd just been there not months before. Who could believe it? On the other side of the world, I met another (kind of ) Chicagoan. I'd never been so grateful to meet someone who'd been to Chicago.

We chatted for a bit and had a few laughs. She was a cool old lady. I told her where we were going and she told me we'd be where we wanted in two stops. I felt at ease and thankful to have come across such a kind person.

Navid, apparently, hadn't realized that we were on the bus of doom and, as such, wasn't as relieved as I was to get to the bus terminal. He was pleased to reach our destination though, and we forged onward into the heart of the bus terminal. Within 15 minutes, we were the proud owners of two one way tickets to Phuket.

Sun-beat and pack-weary, we dragged our feet to the bus just as the sun had set, and threw our crap down. It felt good. The day was done. We'd found our bus. All we had to do was sit back, relax, and wait for Phuket to come to us.

One of my favorite shots from the trip

Thailand Part 1

At the station

It all hinged on one stroke of luck. One five minute window that would have burned away like a cigarette, dissipating into the humid Thai night air, lost to the wind.

I arrived at BKK international airport just as the sun set, and wearily wandered off of China Air flight nine hundred twenty something with nothing but my backpack and instructions to meet Navid scribbled in my notebook. I was to meet him at BTS Saladaeng station, which was a bus station or train station or something or other in downtown Bangkok or somewhere near. A half an hour of stumbling around BKK following my traveler's intuition and three minutes of help from a kind young airport security guard left me with a red plastic train token and a map scribbled with directions and notes.

On the train, with a thirty minute ride out to the city, I finally had a chance to catch up to myself. I set my bag on the floor, took a deep breath, and hung from the overhead bar. Much as I tried to keep to myself and relax a bit, I couldn't help but listen in on the conversation between some American guy and a completely smitten British girl next to me. They were both in business or advertising or something and were talking about it extremely loudly. But even something that would ordinarily be incredibly irritating to me put a smile on my face. I was in Thailand. After almost a solid 24 hours since I had left my apartment in Japan... I was in Thailand.

I arrived at Saladaeng Station, as planned, filled to the brim with excitement. However, my jubilation was soon to be turned to panic. I stepped off the cool, air-conditioned train into the humid night air. There were people moving in every direction, and the sound of excitement in the air, but I had only one thing on my mind... to find my man. And he was nowhere to be found. I walked down from the station onto the crowded sidewalk and wound my way through the river of tourists, merchants, and Thai people. My system was being overloaded with the flood of new experiences, and I was drawn through the sea of sights and sounds by the distant thought of having to find Navid.  But after having checked the entire station and surrounding area of each exit I realized he was nowhere to be found.

I pulled out my Japanese cellphone and my notepad with Navid's number and called. Each time I called though, all I heard was a woman in Japanese saying "something something something dekimasen." For those of you who don't speak Japanese, "dekimasen" means "can't."

So, having found my cellphone useless and my search for Navid fruitless. I did what any sensible person would do. I started freaking out.

I needed to do something. I needed to figure something out. I could do this. I needed to chill out, have a smoke, and think for a second.

So, I stepped into the only familiar thing I could see. A 7-11. I walked into that 7-11 with such feelings of gratitude I never thought I could have for a convenience store. The clerk at the counter looked at me with the same mix of apathy and disdain characteristic of the clerks I'm accustomed to in America. I kept it simple, a lighter and the pack of smokes with the picture of gum cancer on it. (Thailand's government requires that tobacco products come with a warning and a large, graphic photograph of the potential effects of smoking.)

I paid my batz and walked back out onto the streets.  OK, so what was I going to do next. I started heading for a small enclave off the sidewalk that looked suitable for smoking. Drawing a cigarette from the pack I looked up with a tinge of defeat in my heart and saw a sight that put me back. Under the glow of the electric light in the train station staircase, descending like a complete happenstance angel, was Navid. With a clueless yet unassuming face, he walked down, drawing a cigarette of his pack as well.

He hit the ground and our eyes met. DUDE! we cried and did one of those half handshake half hug things.

Apparently, Navid had no idea that I'd be there. In fact, he had forgotten that he had TWICE told me to meet him at the station, and was actually on his way to the airport. He had been with his Thai friends all day and had decided, on a whim, to stop down and have a cigarette before taking the train all the way out to the airport. I don't know how it happened, or what divine force had guided us together at that moment, but it was surely a good omen.

Our beloved heroes

And there it all began...

Welcome To Atsugi - Part 2

I last left you with a portrait of Atsugi. Now, let me give you a snapshot of life out here.

Gotcha!

Here's a picture of one of my bosses, Satomi. Although she frequently declines the title of "my boss," I'm pretty sure she could drop the hammer should push come to shove. Fortunately for me, she's really great to work with. I can always go to her when I have questions about English grammar. Also, I discovered that she's kind of camera shy and doesn't like people taking pictures of her. Also fortunately for me, I was quick enough to get this picture before she pulled her jacket up over her head. Look at that great smile!

Also, you may notice the office she's standing in. This is the office in which I spend most of my time out here. Ok, not most of my time, but at times it does feel that way. Behind Satomi, you can see the window through which I spend a lot of time staring out blankly.

#1 Pachinko player

So, after stopping by the office to pester Satomi, I stepped out to visit one of the local Pachinko parlors with my friend Satoshi.  This was my first time going to one, and Satoshi was bent on showing me the wonders and joy of Pachinko (which, as of yet, I have not discovered).

At first, I conservatively fired one single Pachinko ball into the machine each play. I soon realized that this is not how Pachinko is done at all. I had over a thousand of those little suckers, and it was going to take me all night to go through them at that rate.  So, I cranked the trigger to the optimal strength and let it rip. I watched each ball bouncing and rattling all the way down the machine's face and out of sight. My eyes were darting this way and that, trying to follow of of my potential winners. Lights were blinking, things were beeping and buzzing, an animated character on the game screen was shouting at me in Japanese. Did I win? Did I lose? I had no idea. I just kept firing balls into the machine. After a while, I was just staring at the game in a daze, absorbing all of the lights and sounds, completely mesmerized. Occasionally, Satoshi would look over from his game and tell me "Hit the button!" after which, I would snap out of my daze and frantically start pounding every button I could see on the machine until I was satisfied it had some effect.

Blinking lights

It went on in this fashion for quite some time, until I had completely exhausted my bucketful of Pachinko balls. I looked over at Satoshi's winnings, which had already grown to about 4 buckets. As much as I tried to look like I was having a good time, I'm pretty sure I looked upset. Seeing that I was a bit soured on my first Pachinko experience, Satoshi gave me a bucket of his and commanded me to try again.

I did as I was told and, after another mesmerizing hour or so of watching blinking lights, I had accrued a whopping five buckets of Pachinko balls, which, standing next to Satoshi's stack of three measly buckets, made me feel proud and surely put a smug grin on my face.

So, we split the winnings and, each of us up about 800 yen (roughly nine dollars), bought some beers.

It was a good night. I can safely say that if I never set foot in another Pachinko parlor again, I'll probably be okay.