Fin

It was nice to arrive back in Bangkok, to a place I had been before. For however experienced a traveler may be, there's always a certain amount of anxiety about arriving in a place they've never before been, and a large "pain-in-the-ass" factor of finding a place to stay. So coming back to Bankok was a relief, a brief respite from continuous travels. I walked down Koh Sahn Road like I owned the f'ing joint, knowing exactly which guesthouse I was heading to and where I would grab my first beer. From four tables away, I signaled the waiter for a large Chang, "with da!" I instructed.

I had picked up the habit of drinking my beer with ice in Saigon. It's a common practice over here, obviously serving to keep the beer could in the excruciating heat; I think I'm going to see if I can introduce the concept to St. Louis and Chicago.

But when I told the waiter I wanted da - ice - with my beer he threw me a puzzled look. Son of a... I wasn't in Vietnam anymore, I was in Thailand, and "da" is definitely Vietnamese. The mojo I had been feeling about being a Bangkok veteran disipated at the utterance of a single, mispoken work.

Other than "bia hoi," I think "da" is the only other work I learned in the Vietnamese language. In Thailand I've done a bit better, knowing how to say "hello," "thank you," and "see you later." My failure to try and pick up more of the languages during my travels doesn't stem from apathy, buta serious fear of learning the language from casual encounters. You see, Thai and Vietnamese are tonal languages, each with 5 or 6 different tones. One word can have six different meanings depending on how it's said. In Vietnam, a phrase said in one tone means "She's an old woman," while said in a different tone means "I have no penis." No shit, I had it confirmed by a man in Saigon. So there it is, the legitimacy of my fear of trying to learn the languages. I also attribute the tonal nature of their languages to they're being so freakin' loud. The Henry's would never survive in Southeast Asia; our DNA would have been wiped clean of the gene pool generations ago on account of our mumbling and monotone morning grumpiness.

I had planned on ending my trip on the beaches of southern Thailand. But before doing so I still had a few more...let's say cultural...stops in the northern half of the country. So after spending only one night in Bangkok I took a bus west to Kanchanaburi: I had precious little time to waste.

(In the interest of time I'm going to be brief with regards to my travels through Thailand. Also, I only have a few more pages left in my journal and don't want to start a new one.)

Kanchanaburi has a notoriety of which I was not familiar, with the town's place in history forever assured by its connection to the Burma Death Railway. In furthering their aggression during World War II, the Japanese - in order to aid supply movement - built a railway connecting Burma to Bangkok through impossible terrain in impossibly little time. To do so, they utilised Allied POW's, over one hundred thousand of which perished from torture, disease, and hunger while working on the project. Kanchanaburi itself was the location of a bridge pivotal to the railway - bombed several times by the Allies - made famous in the movie "Bridge Over the River Kwai." The town today is also home to a cemetary honoring the fallen Allied soldiers. Perhaps not as well known to younger Americans, I spoke with an Australian who assured me the Death Railway is a fixture of Australian lore. Americans were among the casualties, but soldiers from Britian, Holland, and Australia were the biggest statistics. The history lesson made the trip more than worthwhile.

Kanchanaburi led me to Chiang Mai in norhtern Thailand. Chiang Mai is best known to traveler for its trekking, with treks visiting the numerous ethnic hill-tribe villages in the area. I choose not to, but did take a one-day Thai cooking class: I make a mean red curry. It's also worth noting that I ran ino Phil, one of the Americans I had been traveling with a month earlear in Cambodia, so I spent some time kicking around town with him. After Chiang Mai it was off to the islands in the far south of Thailand. Here's the rundown:

Hat Railay East: One night.
Koh Phi Phi: 5 nights. Phi Phi was hit by the tsunami, and is home to world class diving, so I got my open water certification. I saw 3 leopard sharks in the process.
Koh Phangan: 2 nights.
Koh Tao: 3 nights. Koh Toh is even more famous for its diving than Phi Phi, so I got my advanced diver certification.
Koh Phangan: 6 nights. Phangan is home to the infamous Full Moon Party, held on the full moon of each month. Thousands of people descend on the island on a monthly basis for this party alone, so I figured I'd see what all the rage was about.

And that's that. One more night in Bangkok and I'll be done, crossing the Pacific bound for middle America, home sweet home.

At the end of a trip such as this, it's only natural to take stock of your adventures and experiences and wonder what, if anything, was learned and what, if any, wisdom can be imparted to folks back home. Well, after careful consideration and countless bottles of Thai rum, I've decided that if I've learned anything...it is this:

The people of Southeast Asia have no qualms about picking their nose in public. Now, as a foreign visitor to their homeland, I'm not here to pass judgement on our culture differences. And I'm not suggesting they pick their nose any more than Americans, just that they have no social etiquette prohibiting it.

Look, I tried to look the other way on this one and wasn't even going to mention it. But I couldn't ignore the matter any longer when a girl was two knuckles deep as she was trying to sell me a wood carving of the Happy Buddha. It ain't my diety, but I hardly felt that was the reverence he deserved.

But in an effort to respect their culture, I've made it a habit to clean house on a daily basis over my morning newspaper and coffee. As Ron Burgundy says, "When in Rome." So next time you catch me picking my nose, I'll just smile, shake my head and say "It's an Asian thing, silly. You're so uncultured."

Sunset on Koh Phi Phi












Epilogue

I want to thank my readers for your interest in my adventure. I would not have written nearly as much had I not known you were there, and your comments emboldened me to push the limits of my narrative in an effort to tell a story rather than simply catalogue the details of my trip. In some cases I failed, hopefully in others I succeeded. In any case, I've never written like this and it has been really, really fun for me.

And to my printed obscenities, my apologies. But an artist must have the freedom to utilize all means necessary to create, no?

I look forward to catching up with all of you in person.

Godspeed,

Trevor