PimI don't remember ever being told to act my age and neither does A, but that's probably only because our friends and families think it's useless to state the obvious. However, after enduring many years of fun and childish behavior, our bodies definitely tell us to act our age when we push them into self-indulgent odysseys. That's exactly what happened Monday.
It all began with a flattering invitation from Pim to join her and five of her young friends for a fast trip to her mother's home in Krabi, over 250 kilometers from Phuket. It sounded bizarre from the beginning – the sort of crazy escapade that's tempting and hard to resist. I declined at first, but A was quite willing to do the trip without me. There was no hesitation whatsoever on her part, quite the opposite. This was the deal: Three, or four people inside the cab of a pickup truck and the rest riding in the truck bed... raining, or not. Departure time was 1AM Monday morning, after Pim and the others got off work... Make the long trip to Krabi, sleep at Pim's house (I expected at least four hours), then head out for a day of fun at Emerald Pond, followed by a dip in hot springs some distance away and then head back to Phuket in time to get to an annual big-bash party in Phuket Town at 7PM. Just thinking about the itinerary tired me out, and I knew there was going to be pain in my old bones at the end of it, but I said, "Yea, I'm in it too."
It is one thing to live in this culture, but it's something else to be invited into its inner sanctum. It's quite easy for foreigners to live in a world apart here – a world pretty much revolving around a circle of friends made up exclusively of expatriates. The language barrier encourages it and it's a bear to learn because it's a tonal language. It's daunting and context is an unreliable crutch for holding up one's clumsy tonal inflections. We are also white giants living in a world of small, naturally-tanned people, so there is no melting into the woodwork and one never loses the sense that you are a foreigner, so to be asked to join a friendly excursion produces a very warm feeling indeed.
Chai, Pim and a truckload of twenty-year-olds met us at the head of our road at exactly 1AM. They insisted I ride in the cab. (I didn't suggest drawing straws.) They wanted A to ride up front too, but she was hell-bent on doing the fun hayride in the back (sans hay). Here she is, snuggled into the truck, just before we left.
We arrived at Pim's home around 3:30, our sleeping mats were rolled out by 4:00. Chai, our driver, pushed his seat back and slept in his truck. I think another young man slept in the back of the truck and the rest of the young ladies disappeared into two small bedrooms. A mat and two pillows were laid out for us in the front room. Here's our bed shortly before it was rolled up in the morning.
I've had back trouble for years. Some say that a hard surface is the best thing for a bad back – maybe so, but not mine. I want a little pocket in the earth to tuck my butt into. Nonetheless, I was so tired that I fell asleep shortly after hitting the tiles, but it was a short nap. Clanking kitchen noises began around six and Thai pop music booming from the radio in Chai's truck quickly followed.
Here's Pim cooking breakfast and then the breakfast 'table' laid out with a variety of Thai breakfast foods. You can just make out the salted fish in one of the dishes.
It's my guess that the schedule had been set before we left, but they didn't try to waltz around the language barrier to explain the details to us. Being the 'outsider' is a very illuminating experience. I recommend it. I think the entire world would benefit if it were mandatory for all people to spend eight months of their life in a totally alien culture. It's humbling, it instills respect and it points out how vulnerable we are when we cannot communicate with one another.
Pim's Mom's house is really Pim's house.
She paid for it with savings she accumulated over eight years – savings from a meager salary earned bartending in a restaurant. It's an incredible achievement. The house is hardly one that a young American couple would think of as their dream house. It sports none of the usual US amenities. There is no hot water, it has an old fashioned Asian squat toilet and the kitchen stove is one notch above a single Bunsen burner. There are no chairs and no tables, but the living room sports a vinyl sofa facing the TV set. Most activities and gatherings take place on the floor and all of it is gleaming clean.It's a big step up from this house, the one Pim grew up in.
After saying thank you to Mom, we headed out to visit others in the family. They are rubber plantation workers and live meager, but apparently happy, lives. Pim's brother walked into the jungle while we were there and came back with an armful of fruit – bananas, mangos and papayas. The jungle is a wonderful produce market for those who know how to shop in it - no price tags and no waiting lines.
Road through a rubber plantation.
Jackfruit - a Thai favorite that is disproportionally large for the spindly tree that mothers it.
From there, we headed for Emerald Pond, a national park. It was an 800-meter uphill walk through the jungle to the pond. Lizards were the only creatures we saw, but A said the jungle was alive with birds and other wildlife sounds that I couldn't hear.
The pond is crystal clear and is fed by a gentle waterfall. The bottom of the pond is pure copper ore and it's brilliant green color gives the pond its name. It's something to behold. Most Thai women are incredibly modest, so one doesn't see them in bathing suits, except at the more tourist-oriented beaches. Our friends jumped into the water fully clothed. A brought her bathing suit.
Lack of sleep, the heat, my aching back and the trek into Emerald Pond had me pretty wasted by the time we got to the hot springs. We ate lunch at an outdoor restaurant and I magnanimously offered to sit on a bench and watch everyone's gear while they plodded down another jungle path for a dip in the hot pools. My mind was filled only with the coming sensations of an air conditioned truck and the ride back to Phuket. I was happy to see the group emerge from jungle.
These are our friends and people we can count on should we ever need their help. It's a wonderful feeling to be included. It's especially rewarding to know that they recognize how much we love them and their culture. Many expats subtly ridicule many of the archaic-appearing Thai ways and I often wonder why they choose to live here. Perhaps they think of themselves as big fish in a small pond. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Thais easily identify pompous faranges and leave them alone. "Alone" is just the thing one doesn't want to be in a foreign land. I read somewhere that you learn a lot about yourself when you live in Thailand. It's true.
P.S. Yes... we did make it to the big bash party at seven that evening. By that time I was on my cane, but I danced anyway. It's taken us two days to recover, but we wouldn't have missed any of it for the world.
