One Month in Thailand
Tuesday October 28th 7:11 am | Thailand
I wake up in a warm room, kept cool by the tumbling currents of my “aircon.” Before I went to bed I put it into fan mode, not willing to spend the electricity on any more than that. I would rather not be freezing in the morning anyway.
I’m not sure how long the novelty will last. A ten minute snooze used to keep me in bed until well past the bell’s ring, now I jump up as soon as my second alarm goes off. It probably helps that I went to bed at 9:30 pm. Though those ten minutes are meant to be for sleep or going on my phone, I still manage five minutes of phone time when I wake up.
Then the rush begins; brushing my teeth, throwing my hair up, packing my bag, getting dressed, trying to find my keys. Or rather, scrubbing the marble, taming the beast, packing for the adventure, dawning my gown, searching for the key. My guide calls me, as I am three minutes late getting out of the door.
Fast forward to the next day, my guide never comes and I must fend for myself. I remember the path, I take a couple of missteps but they don’t put me terribly off course. Though the traffic is heavy I am able to cross, with a wave of my hand that may hold no meaning here. The bridge’s faded pink still shines hotly, unlike most of the pinks I have seen.
I cross the bridge, and then another, high above the heavy morning traffic. At the bottom someone sits far behind the street, I move as close as I can to it, I need to be seen. A sok tow passes by, I decide to wait in hopes of a van. I tell myself “sabi sabi” and one comes within minutes. I say, “Suan Kularb” and it doesn’t register. He then says “yes” and tells me to say “seven eleven khlong see” next time. He tells me this again in five minutes. This doesn’t make sense to me so I say “Khlong see na ka” the next day, which my coworker taught me.
The ride feels longer on my own, due to the diligent attention I feel I need to pay. I regret not wearing a tank top beneath my gray polo. I sit with my back hovering over the seat. Lots of students get on the van, I assume for the same school as me, until the van pulls over and I’m the only one who gets off. My landmark is a yellow partitioned sign and behind that a smiling piece of bread.
As soon as I get off, someone brings their steed right beside me. They say nothing, they either know I need a ride, or they’re willing to take the risk. I get on, realizing that this skirt will be more of a problem than the ones I’ve worn thus far. I grab onto the back of the bike with one hand and hold my skirt down in between my legs with the other.
I’m constantly worried about tipping backwards because of tiredness. I clench up my body and then try to tell myself to relax. My legs remain tense no matter what I do. I picture the accidents that could happen, I hope to find a helmet soon, before my driver runs into the back of a car and I flip over it.
When I focus on the beauty around me and the sweet “chill” of the wind, I relax and the ride becomes something I’m grateful for. I wonder if there’s no motor taxis in America because we don’t want to get that close to each other. I think I may have overpaid for my ride this morning, by five baht so it’s not too big of a deal. I have a hard time remembering the prices of things, there’s too much to learn to be able to remember much of it.
Written by Teacher Athena who works in Bangkok, Thailand.
