Yet another lesson learned (out of sequence, but I thought it was important).

 I found a bar I like.  The reasons I like it are probably pretty clear.  This place is pretty close to Nana's "entertainment" complex, but is not staffed by entertainers.  It's staffed by this wonderful group of friendly Thai ladies (from left:  Tip, Fah, Eve, Aye, Khak, Phooh) who all thought it was hilarious I wanted to take pictures of them (they also thought it was hilarious that I kept on buying them all drinks). 

 This is Phooh, the cook.  At this point, she was supposed to be making someone's dinner but was a little shaky on the grill and uneasy with the open flame.  So instead of cooking, she called a restaurant and had the dinner delivered.  Awesome!  Oh, and she's closing one eye because she has the spins.

 This is Aye (well...more like Eh?).  She is the "number 1 dancer" in the bar.  (By "dancer," I don't mean an entertainer...I mean she dances to the music while serving drinks.)  She asked me if I could dance and I said that if she was number 1, I was number 100.  Then I pointed at the wall behind her and said it was a better dance than I could hope to be.  That's why she's smiling.  I think.  She may have just been feeling sorry for me.

This is Eve.  She's the Number 2 dancer there.  She was really quiet, but could certainly bust a move when called upon.  Specifically, I taught her the "cabbage patch" and she couldn't get enough of it.  I should have taught her the lawnmower, or the shopping cart.









Anyway, the whole point of this was that I went to this bar, had a fantastic time, went out with all of them after their bar closed, and then was graciously given solid Thai Buddhist hospitality.  (Because, you know, I was a little bit drunk by the time we all closed the OTHER bar down.)

Buddhism is both public and private:  There is the public aspect of being a monk, of wai-ing, giving alms, celebrating at a Wat (temple), buying flower garlands and all that.  But then there is the private, home temple.

I was blessed enough to get to see one up close:  A statue of the Buddha, covered in garlands and surrounded by bottles of water and soda (with straws, just fyi), a biscuit, and small candles.  The candle's light is meant to draw the Buddha into the house, the food is to keep him there, the water/soda is to refresh him so he can visit someone else. 

(Background info:  I was in a Thai apartment--significantly different from a "Western" apartment here, in that there is no AC, no hot water, cinderblock walls, a mattress on the non-carpeted floor but no "bed."  It was cozy yet sterile.)

So this morning, I was in the apartment, thanking her for her (she has requested to remain nameless) hospitality etc.  She offered me an apple, which I gratefully took.  I was sitting in front of the fan (remember there is no AirCon [that's how the Thais refer to AC], so I had to do what I could to cool down), munching away on my apple when I noticed she wasn't talking.  I looked around to find her (even though it's a small apartment, she's really, really short so I thought I may have overlooked her standing under the table or something), and saw that she was feeding the Buddha.  I'm chomping away at the apple like an ass (yes, pun intended), she's kneeling and wai-ing.  After about 30 seconds, I realized I shouldn't really be eating an apple with such insouciance in the face of such devotion.  It'd be like bringing a  hamburger into a church.  But then I stopped myself from not eating the apple (I know it's the worst possible double negative: what just happened? Did I stop eating?  No, I kept on munching the apple).  Because she wasn't judging me, in fact, she didn't care about me or what I was doing.  She cared about that moment, and I was so stunned.  By both the purity and the lack of judgement contained in her devotion.  So I decided I'd become....oh no, that's not true.  I just thought it was really beautiful. 

Making an ass out of myself, constantly

(Continued from previous entry)

I woke up from my nap and decided I would explore the ol' hood. 

 The first thing I saw was this amazing thunderhead.  Initially, I was uncertain if I should continue on walking, because this guy looked like some serious rain.  But having been in the desert for the last 2 years, I figured a little rain wouldn't hurt me.  Sadly, I didn't get caught in a deluge (that day), but the wonder of seeing a storm cloud again really got my heart pumping.  In a good way, not in an exercise way.






Then I saw this statue when I was walking over the Japanese Friendship Bridge (I know, right?  It's only recently the Japanese and Thai have been friendly, and that's only because the Japanese are spending Yen like crazy people here).  There is an abundance of elephant statues here, to the point that I'm already disappointed that I haven't seen a real live elephant and mahout (the trainer).  (Sadly, I only know "mahout" because of the book of short stories "Pump Six," a sci-fi dystopian collection by Bacigalupi, that I highly recommend.)




So, after finding my bearings in the neighborhood of Silom (pronounced Sigh-Loam), I ventured further afield and found Lumphini Park. 

I had been walking for a while, was sweating like a criminal, and decided I should find a nice bench to sit down on.  I found one, directly inside the park, and hunkered down for a bottle of water and a little rest.  I had only been there for about 10 minutes when a little old lady carrying a plastic bag sauntered up to my bench and mumbled something.  Having had my heart hardened from previous encounters from mumblers in foreign languages, I shook my head and said "no thanks."  I didn't know what she was selling, but I wasn't buying it.  She didn't "waa" or do any funky things with her hands, but after a minute, it became apparent that she wasn't exactly interested in me.  She was rummaging behind the bench, rustling her bag, and only once looked up at me with such an expression of disappointment I thought I should actually buy what she was selling.  After about 2 minutes, she straightened up and walked away.  No harm, no foul.  I continued to rest, watching people walk by, not worried at all.  Then I saw the stray dog.  Make that dogs.  Plural.  A pack of them was starting to circle around my bench.  I'm not scared of dogs, because I'm a whisperer.  But when faced with a group of Thai canines, obviously ignorant of the soothing sounds of the English language, I started to get a little nervous.  I patted myself down for telltale pieces of meat, found nothing, and started to ease my way off the bench.  None of them looked at me.  They continued to look where I had been sitting.  So, one eye on the Cujos, I glanced over to the bench.  Behind me, there was a kitten eating fish off a paper plate.  That kitten, that paper plate, hadn't been there when I initially sat down.  Then it dawned on me...the old lady!  She's out there, braving roving packs of wolves to feed cats, and I'm saying "No, I don't whatever it is you're selling."  She wasn't selling anything, and I'd become so paranoid of being taken advantage of that I didn't pay attention to her.  Ahhh, hindsight.  But, because I'm a sucker I stayed on the bench until the kitten finished eating, because the dogs stayed at bay while I was there.  As soon as the little guy was finished eating, he scampered off behind a fence and the dogs lost all interest in me and my surroundings.


My daily serving of crow had been served, so I walked around some more.

Then I went home and went to sleep.

My Spirit Animal

I left Dubai on good terms, which is weird because I totally reneged on a contract to move to India with the company I was working for (it wasn't a true "contract," more of an intention).  But, sometimes a pretty face wins out against....wait...sometimes logic wins out against emotion, and more often than not, being firm but polite wins over everyone.  That's me, polite to a fault.  I enjoy Enya, how can I not be polite?  So, I got picked up at the airport by Young, my new boss.  After some awkward introductions (Me: are you...uhm...you know...do you speak...uh...; Young:  I was raised in Houston and I don't like your insinuation...; Me: Speak Thai?  What's that watch you're wearing?  Nice weather, yeah?), Young took me to my apartment, showed me where the TPR office is, bought me breakfast, and then ushered me back to my new "home."

These bad boys were directly outside of my apartment, but...so was this guy:

My spirit animal, the gecko.  He ate one of those...uhm...largish insects quicker than I could take a picture of him scurrying off the sign he used to be on.  Amazing!  I don't mind a lizard, I just don't like a big ol' Steve walking around.  You can actually hear Steve walking around...but the gecko, or whatever he is, you can only hear him burp after he's eaten (that's what Young told me, and I believe him).  So, after being reassured that I was being guarded by a creature of impeccable provenance, I said goodbye to Young and went to take a nap.