Wednesday, February 28, 2001
Airports, Hookers, and Coconuts
Book now!! Graham-A-Palooza 2001 is April 5 at Kenting, Taiwan. 4 Bands have already confirmed including TaiChung's own MILK!!
Here’s the story, (or the basics)
I finished teaching my night class Wednesday night and it’s vacation time. A beer (or 6) to celebrate the end of the semester, and I get up Thursday morning, pack and catch the 2 hour bus ride to Chang Kai Shek Airport.
The airport during Chinese New year is packed. Actually, any airport in Asia is always packed. Actually, Asia is packed. The population explosion in Asia is such that it is literally, an ‘explosion’. One minute, you are walking side by side with your friend, and the next, there is a family of 6 in between the two of you. Same thing occurs in traffic, there you are in the intersection, waiting at the light like a good driver, when suddenly, right between you and the car next to you, a family of four appears, all riding on the same scooter.
At the airport, it’s reunion time. I meet up with Rob, Rhonda, Jason, Sarah, and Katrina. A smooth 4 hour flight and we’re in Bangkok. Well, the airport, anyway.
Getting off the plane, we all end up separated. Somehow, I find myself already through customs and into the shopping mall portion of the airport. Duty Free shops everywhere, waiting rooms and airport lounges. I walk up to the information booth and ask politely “Where do I pick up my luggage?
“Where did you leave it?” She smiled politely back at me.
(The ensuing conversation was frustrating and long. Not to mention painful. In consideration for you, the reader, I have decided to spare you the pain of repeating it.)
I then realized that I was now torn between my desire to remain free from the hassles of customs and immigration, and my need for a clean pair of shorts. In the end, hygiene won out and I returned to the pre-clearing area through the same series of unchecked hallways that allows ivory, drugs, and plutonium to pass quickly and easily while the honest people endure long lineups and luggage inspections.
I got into the shortest line at customs and the Asian population explosion occurred again. The line was growing as families of 6 and 8 suddenly appeared where there was previously only a single floor tile. I realized as the line was growing longer that the officer checking the passports was a trainee. So they were checking people by the book.
“The book” is a top secret government document that basically says: ‘Ask the traveler pointless questions such as “How was the flight?”, “Are you travelling alone?” and “Is this your passport?” You must keep asking questions such as this until the traveler becomes upset. At which point you can stamp their passport and allow them into the country.’
By the time I made it through customs, my baggage has been on the carousel for an hour and a half, inspected by 3 different drug officers and one anti-terrorist agent and was now moments away from being forwarded to Zurich, Switzerland.
I take my bags out to the lobby and find my friends who were stepping onto a bus under the assumption that I had gone on without them.
‘One night in Bangkok’
Everything you have ever heard is true. However, I’m not sure what you have heard about the place. The night market has Rolex watches for the low, low price of 20$. Fendi designer handbags for only 30$ (Regular retail price: 2 thousand.) Fantastic food and service with a smile. You can get from one end of the City to the other (quite a distance) for half a Canadian dollar (Provided you allow the driver to take you to some ‘special stops’ for shopping where he receives a cut of anything you buy)
Then there are the people that make Bangkok famous, the whores. They parade around on the stages at the strip clubs and make eyes with the customers. After a few glances they hand you a note (laminated so it can be used again) saying ‘Pay the bar 400 Baht” (about 20$ Canadian).
We end the evening at a latin dance bar where my friend, who will remain anonymous for this story (Rob, Severn) meets a lovely girl and begins to dance with her. I politely make small talk with her friend.
“So, What do you do?” I ask.
“I work” she replies. That’s how a conversation goes, someone asks a question, the other person replies.
“What kind of work” I ask.
“Sex” she replies.
So there I am making small talk with a Thai hooker. And I realize that her friend is also in ‘the business’.
I’m left with the classic dilemma that we all face at some point in our lives, ‘Whether or not to tell your friend that the girl he has just met is a Bangkok whore’.
Not to miss one of the most amazing temples in all of Asia, I went to Wat Pho, where I saw the famous Reclining Buddha (it’s a big Buddha lying down). To make sure that I understood the full cultural significance of this wonder of the word, I hired a certified translator/guide at the entrance to the temple. He put it all into perspective by telling me the historical context of this massive statue:
“Buddha tired, so Buddha lie down”
I wanted more than that for my 200 Baht, so he offered to take me to see one of the monks at the temple. We took off our shoes and entered a room where incense and tranquil music gave me a sense of inner peace and relaxation. I knelt in front of a orange robed, bald monk with glasses who smiled at me and spoke in a peaceful tone. Waving a spiritual brush around me he blessed me for long life, happiness, and peace. He sprinkled some cleansing water on my face and as my translator told me that I was destined for success in this life and the next, he placed a small Buddha amulet over my head and around my neck.
The translator then explained the next step in the process. “It is customary to give a donation.”
“A donation? How much?”
“600 baht is usual.”
If anyone knows the proper way to say ‘No’ to a monk who has just blessed you and presented you with a Buddha, please let me know. It’s worth $30 to me.
In summary, Bangkok is a city where a fake Rolex and a handjob are cheaper than letting a monk splash water in your face. Time to leave. I’m not spending my holiday from working in one Asian city by going to another Asian city. So I head down to Koh Phi Phi island (On the recommendation of Troy) where:
-the water is as blue as any travel brochure can boast.
-some of the most amazing snorkeling and scuba diving in the world can be found.
-seafood is caught fresh daily from a location the cook can point to from shore.
-a speed bump is a strip of bamboo across a path
-chickens wander aimlessly among the huts and bungalows (if you leave your door open, you may have a clucking visitor)
-I have at least 1 coconut shake and 1 banana pancake every day
-there are cats everywhere, dogs don't even bother chasing them. they must be too tired.
There are two basic choices for accommodation. The air-conditioned places will cost at least 3 times the price as a room with a fan. A room with a fan may cost as little as 10$ or as much as 100$.
Travel tips from those who know #196:
The problem with a ceiling fan is that it blows your farts right back at you.
The first day I bump into Suzanna. She’s From the Czech Republic and has just finished working in Japan for the last year. After a few days I casually mention that I have been to the Czech Republic and the names of some of my friends there. As it turns out, Suzanna knows Roman (you may remember from my earlier journals, he asked me to be best man at his wedding) the world is now the smallest place ever for me.
Katrina and Suzanna hit it off well and we are now a group of three. We sat under palm trees drinking rum and coke, counting the stars and pointing out constellations. I played a quick game of chase with the crabs on the beach.
Sitting at a beachfront bar we met some fine people also taking a break and enjoying the island. A group of Irish who are travelling the world. We spend a day sport fishing and bring home 3 Dorado each weighing about 8 pounds.
After a few days of lying around doing nothing but eating and lying on the beach. We go to shark point and there are a group of Italians throwing bread into the water and yelling "no spaghetti for you!". Yep. The Italians are out in full force to see the place where DeCrappio filmed “The Beach” [see footnote]. Katrina and Suzanna each saw sharks (Katrina 1, Suzanna 3) while me and Dag dove our lungs out in the deep water and didn't see any. (Dag can dive to 15 meters with fins and a snorkel. The Kodak underwater camera is good to 4 meters, after that it cracks from the pressure.)
There was no way I was going to miss the opportunity of a lifetime, swimming with sharks. So the next morning, at 6:30, I joined a tour group who everything but guaranteed that we would see between 6-20 sharks. We took the boat out to the same place and the guide gave us our briefing. “ Stay in a group, don’t kick your fins or splash, and if you see one, stay calm and don’t try to touch them.”
We then splashed our way across the reef from where we were to the other end of the reef where another tour group was doing much the same as us. I began to believe that doubling the size of an inexperienced group of weak swimmers splashing around on a reef was either going to scare away all fish (sharks included) or provide a feeding frenzy for these ‘killers of the deep’. It was at this point that two things happened:
1. The two tour guides began a shouting match over who had the right to be there and who was infringing on the other’s business. At one point the tour guides actually started throwing punches at each other in the water.
2. A school of sharks passed by beneath us. The right to be there was now decided by who had the most teeth. Blacktip sharks ranging in size from 1-2 meters long moving through the water much more fluidly than fish, and ignoring us entirely.
Knowing that some people have a tendency to call bullshit when I relate travel stories, I snapped some photos. The lack of quality and clarity should indicate that it was me who took the photos and not a professional.
“I love the smell of coconut in the morning”
Tropical islands hold many dangers; sharks, snakes, wild animals, scorpions, deadly spiders, and the usual deadly diseases. One that has gone unmentioned until recently kills more people than a disgruntled postal worker in Texas and can make a nice daiquiri on a hot day. The coconut.
Hold the laughter and hear me out.
The tropics are filled with palm trees. Each one holding anywhere from 6-12 of these deadly projectiles an average of 8-10 meters above the ground. Basic physics tells us that ‘if it goes up, it must come down”. Remember physics class? A falling object travels at 9.8 meters per second.
So a 5 pound coconut falling from a 10 meter tree gives you exactly 1 second of warning. Unfortunately, as they say “a falling coconut makes no sound” so there is virtually no warning. Stringing your hammock under a palm tree is a sure way to risk getting hit on your coconut with a coconut.
In Indonesia, where the coconut is the third leading cause of death, (behind guns and soccer riots) the government has started putting signs up in areas where coconut accidents are common to warn people.
Coconuts are also one of the ingredients in a ‘Malibu Missile’ which, along with the correct mixture of overproof rum, can have the same effect as Napalm.
-‘You’ has a bar stumbling distance from our bungalow. This is a good thing because it is our last stop of the evening and our first stop in the morning. The only downside is that fact that his name has caused immense confusion. Conversations such as:
“I’m going fishing with ‘You’ tomorrow”
-“but I don’t want to go fishing”
-“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to go. It will just be me and ‘You’”
-“I’m not going? I thought you just said…..“(you get the idea)
Easy as Punching Fish in a Barrel
Another day of snorkeling at Bamboo island. An impressive coral reef full of schools of colorful fish who will swim right up to you to say “Hello, what are you?”
Marine biology for dummies #32:
A fish has a memory span of about 8 seconds. And only 2 things to actually remember, if it’s smaller than you, eat it, if it’s bigger, run away.
After 8 seconds of smiling blissfully in a school of fish, the fish forgot Rule Number 1 and started testing to see if big white guy was food or foe. Yep, I was stuck in a swarm of beautiful tropical fish who thought I was the special of the day. I utilized a little known technique for escape known as ‘punching fish while swallowing as much sea water as possible’. It worked and we all decided to head to much safer parts of the island, the shore. I put the underwater camera to use by taking some very sexy bikini photos (I look hot in a two piece!!)
Anyway, that’s all for now, take care and watch for falling coconuts.
Book now!! Graham-A-Palooza 2001 is April 5 at Kenting, Taiwan. 4 Bands have already confirmed including TaiChung's own MILK!!
Here’s the story, (or the basics)
I finished teaching my night class Wednesday night and it’s vacation time. A beer (or 6) to celebrate the end of the semester, and I get up Thursday morning, pack and catch the 2 hour bus ride to Chang Kai Shek Airport.
The airport during Chinese New year is packed. Actually, any airport in Asia is always packed. Actually, Asia is packed. The population explosion in Asia is such that it is literally, an ‘explosion’. One minute, you are walking side by side with your friend, and the next, there is a family of 6 in between the two of you. Same thing occurs in traffic, there you are in the intersection, waiting at the light like a good driver, when suddenly, right between you and the car next to you, a family of four appears, all riding on the same scooter.
At the airport, it’s reunion time. I meet up with Rob, Rhonda, Jason, Sarah, and Katrina. A smooth 4 hour flight and we’re in Bangkok. Well, the airport, anyway.
Getting off the plane, we all end up separated. Somehow, I find myself already through customs and into the shopping mall portion of the airport. Duty Free shops everywhere, waiting rooms and airport lounges. I walk up to the information booth and ask politely “Where do I pick up my luggage?
“Where did you leave it?” She smiled politely back at me.
(The ensuing conversation was frustrating and long. Not to mention painful. In consideration for you, the reader, I have decided to spare you the pain of repeating it.)
I then realized that I was now torn between my desire to remain free from the hassles of customs and immigration, and my need for a clean pair of shorts. In the end, hygiene won out and I returned to the pre-clearing area through the same series of unchecked hallways that allows ivory, drugs, and plutonium to pass quickly and easily while the honest people endure long lineups and luggage inspections.
I got into the shortest line at customs and the Asian population explosion occurred again. The line was growing as families of 6 and 8 suddenly appeared where there was previously only a single floor tile. I realized as the line was growing longer that the officer checking the passports was a trainee. So they were checking people by the book.
“The book” is a top secret government document that basically says: ‘Ask the traveler pointless questions such as “How was the flight?”, “Are you travelling alone?” and “Is this your passport?” You must keep asking questions such as this until the traveler becomes upset. At which point you can stamp their passport and allow them into the country.’
By the time I made it through customs, my baggage has been on the carousel for an hour and a half, inspected by 3 different drug officers and one anti-terrorist agent and was now moments away from being forwarded to Zurich, Switzerland.
I take my bags out to the lobby and find my friends who were stepping onto a bus under the assumption that I had gone on without them.
‘One night in Bangkok’
Everything you have ever heard is true. However, I’m not sure what you have heard about the place. The night market has Rolex watches for the low, low price of 20$. Fendi designer handbags for only 30$ (Regular retail price: 2 thousand.) Fantastic food and service with a smile. You can get from one end of the City to the other (quite a distance) for half a Canadian dollar (Provided you allow the driver to take you to some ‘special stops’ for shopping where he receives a cut of anything you buy)
Then there are the people that make Bangkok famous, the whores. They parade around on the stages at the strip clubs and make eyes with the customers. After a few glances they hand you a note (laminated so it can be used again) saying ‘Pay the bar 400 Baht” (about 20$ Canadian).
We end the evening at a latin dance bar where my friend, who will remain anonymous for this story (Rob, Severn) meets a lovely girl and begins to dance with her. I politely make small talk with her friend.
“So, What do you do?” I ask.
“I work” she replies. That’s how a conversation goes, someone asks a question, the other person replies.
“What kind of work” I ask.
“Sex” she replies.
So there I am making small talk with a Thai hooker. And I realize that her friend is also in ‘the business’.
I’m left with the classic dilemma that we all face at some point in our lives, ‘Whether or not to tell your friend that the girl he has just met is a Bangkok whore’.
Not to miss one of the most amazing temples in all of Asia, I went to Wat Pho, where I saw the famous Reclining Buddha (it’s a big Buddha lying down). To make sure that I understood the full cultural significance of this wonder of the word, I hired a certified translator/guide at the entrance to the temple. He put it all into perspective by telling me the historical context of this massive statue:
“Buddha tired, so Buddha lie down”
I wanted more than that for my 200 Baht, so he offered to take me to see one of the monks at the temple. We took off our shoes and entered a room where incense and tranquil music gave me a sense of inner peace and relaxation. I knelt in front of a orange robed, bald monk with glasses who smiled at me and spoke in a peaceful tone. Waving a spiritual brush around me he blessed me for long life, happiness, and peace. He sprinkled some cleansing water on my face and as my translator told me that I was destined for success in this life and the next, he placed a small Buddha amulet over my head and around my neck.
The translator then explained the next step in the process. “It is customary to give a donation.”
“A donation? How much?”
“600 baht is usual.”
If anyone knows the proper way to say ‘No’ to a monk who has just blessed you and presented you with a Buddha, please let me know. It’s worth $30 to me.
In summary, Bangkok is a city where a fake Rolex and a handjob are cheaper than letting a monk splash water in your face. Time to leave. I’m not spending my holiday from working in one Asian city by going to another Asian city. So I head down to Koh Phi Phi island (On the recommendation of Troy) where:
-the water is as blue as any travel brochure can boast.
-some of the most amazing snorkeling and scuba diving in the world can be found.
-seafood is caught fresh daily from a location the cook can point to from shore.
-a speed bump is a strip of bamboo across a path
-chickens wander aimlessly among the huts and bungalows (if you leave your door open, you may have a clucking visitor)
-I have at least 1 coconut shake and 1 banana pancake every day
-there are cats everywhere, dogs don't even bother chasing them. they must be too tired.
There are two basic choices for accommodation. The air-conditioned places will cost at least 3 times the price as a room with a fan. A room with a fan may cost as little as 10$ or as much as 100$.
Travel tips from those who know #196:
The problem with a ceiling fan is that it blows your farts right back at you.
The first day I bump into Suzanna. She’s From the Czech Republic and has just finished working in Japan for the last year. After a few days I casually mention that I have been to the Czech Republic and the names of some of my friends there. As it turns out, Suzanna knows Roman (you may remember from my earlier journals, he asked me to be best man at his wedding) the world is now the smallest place ever for me.
Katrina and Suzanna hit it off well and we are now a group of three. We sat under palm trees drinking rum and coke, counting the stars and pointing out constellations. I played a quick game of chase with the crabs on the beach.
Sitting at a beachfront bar we met some fine people also taking a break and enjoying the island. A group of Irish who are travelling the world. We spend a day sport fishing and bring home 3 Dorado each weighing about 8 pounds.
After a few days of lying around doing nothing but eating and lying on the beach. We go to shark point and there are a group of Italians throwing bread into the water and yelling "no spaghetti for you!". Yep. The Italians are out in full force to see the place where DeCrappio filmed “The Beach” [see footnote]. Katrina and Suzanna each saw sharks (Katrina 1, Suzanna 3) while me and Dag dove our lungs out in the deep water and didn't see any. (Dag can dive to 15 meters with fins and a snorkel. The Kodak underwater camera is good to 4 meters, after that it cracks from the pressure.)
There was no way I was going to miss the opportunity of a lifetime, swimming with sharks. So the next morning, at 6:30, I joined a tour group who everything but guaranteed that we would see between 6-20 sharks. We took the boat out to the same place and the guide gave us our briefing. “ Stay in a group, don’t kick your fins or splash, and if you see one, stay calm and don’t try to touch them.”
We then splashed our way across the reef from where we were to the other end of the reef where another tour group was doing much the same as us. I began to believe that doubling the size of an inexperienced group of weak swimmers splashing around on a reef was either going to scare away all fish (sharks included) or provide a feeding frenzy for these ‘killers of the deep’. It was at this point that two things happened:
1. The two tour guides began a shouting match over who had the right to be there and who was infringing on the other’s business. At one point the tour guides actually started throwing punches at each other in the water.
2. A school of sharks passed by beneath us. The right to be there was now decided by who had the most teeth. Blacktip sharks ranging in size from 1-2 meters long moving through the water much more fluidly than fish, and ignoring us entirely.
Knowing that some people have a tendency to call bullshit when I relate travel stories, I snapped some photos. The lack of quality and clarity should indicate that it was me who took the photos and not a professional.
“I love the smell of coconut in the morning”
Tropical islands hold many dangers; sharks, snakes, wild animals, scorpions, deadly spiders, and the usual deadly diseases. One that has gone unmentioned until recently kills more people than a disgruntled postal worker in Texas and can make a nice daiquiri on a hot day. The coconut.
Hold the laughter and hear me out.
The tropics are filled with palm trees. Each one holding anywhere from 6-12 of these deadly projectiles an average of 8-10 meters above the ground. Basic physics tells us that ‘if it goes up, it must come down”. Remember physics class? A falling object travels at 9.8 meters per second.
So a 5 pound coconut falling from a 10 meter tree gives you exactly 1 second of warning. Unfortunately, as they say “a falling coconut makes no sound” so there is virtually no warning. Stringing your hammock under a palm tree is a sure way to risk getting hit on your coconut with a coconut.
In Indonesia, where the coconut is the third leading cause of death, (behind guns and soccer riots) the government has started putting signs up in areas where coconut accidents are common to warn people.
Coconuts are also one of the ingredients in a ‘Malibu Missile’ which, along with the correct mixture of overproof rum, can have the same effect as Napalm.
-‘You’ has a bar stumbling distance from our bungalow. This is a good thing because it is our last stop of the evening and our first stop in the morning. The only downside is that fact that his name has caused immense confusion. Conversations such as:
“I’m going fishing with ‘You’ tomorrow”
-“but I don’t want to go fishing”
-“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to go. It will just be me and ‘You’”
-“I’m not going? I thought you just said…..“(you get the idea)
Easy as Punching Fish in a Barrel
Another day of snorkeling at Bamboo island. An impressive coral reef full of schools of colorful fish who will swim right up to you to say “Hello, what are you?”
Marine biology for dummies #32:
A fish has a memory span of about 8 seconds. And only 2 things to actually remember, if it’s smaller than you, eat it, if it’s bigger, run away.
After 8 seconds of smiling blissfully in a school of fish, the fish forgot Rule Number 1 and started testing to see if big white guy was food or foe. Yep, I was stuck in a swarm of beautiful tropical fish who thought I was the special of the day. I utilized a little known technique for escape known as ‘punching fish while swallowing as much sea water as possible’. It worked and we all decided to head to much safer parts of the island, the shore. I put the underwater camera to use by taking some very sexy bikini photos (I look hot in a two piece!!)
Anyway, that’s all for now, take care and watch for falling coconuts.
