Lay-o, Lay-o, Faster, Faster

I took the transit system yesterday for the first time. No one tells you how to get from Point A to Point B; they just tell you that it's easy. "Easy" is relative when you have no idea what you're doing. 

I had just looked at two apartments in Phrom Pong, and now needed to sign the paperwork. To accomplish this I had to get to the agent’s office in Thong Lo, about 10 minutes away with normal traffic. On Friday afternoon at 4pm in Bangkok, that might as well be 45 minutes. As my agent had an appointment at 4pm and was already late, he wanted to ensure that I got to the office okay and the fastest way to get there: motorbike taxi.

I had been warned to avoid this mode of transportation for fear of imminent death and now I was climbing on the back of one. I have to admit that the thrill of jetting through immovable traffic was as appealing as it was thrilling, but the reality of it was much scarier.

I’ve seen woman casually sitting side saddle while they text as well as men talking on their cell phones and two thoughts have gone through my head. One, “It mustn’t be as bad as people have been telling me” and, “Well they’re Thai, so they’re used to it.” The latter is true. You must also never tell the driver, “Lay-o, lay-o. Faster, faster,” unless you have a death wish. That is exactly what my real estate agent said as he smiled broadly and asked me if I was ready to go for a ride. Not wanting to appear like a wimp, I smiled and jumped on while I squelched my rising panic.

It is difficult to fully understand the game of chicken until you're in the opposing lane of traffic and your impending death is racing at you from the opposite direction until at the last minute, you swerve into stopped traffic and squeeze between cars. I suddenly wondered if my legs were too big and my shoulders too broad as we missed side view mirrors and bumpers by mere millimeters. Then we’d stop suddenly because the gap between a truck and a taxi would be too narrow to pass through. 

Also, telling the driver that this is my first time is not recommended. The bike immediately began jerking left and right as we wound our way through traffic. It’s like driving down the road and deciding to swerve left and right to see how quickly you can break the person sitting next to you.

My heart was in my stomach. Then the light would turn and we’d suddenly be taking a hard left as I would feel my body sliding off the seat. The only time I enjoyed myself was when we turned onto a no-traffic road and sped at top speed straight ahead but then I reminded myself that I wasn’t wearing a helmet and he was and the joy froze.

Jump forward fifteen minutes and I had met William, the very attractive British agent I had spoken to on the phone a few days prior, handed over the holding deposit and signed a temporary contract. The condo was mine. I would move in November 1^st. Now to figure out how to get to the closest metro station and less importantly, figure out what I was going to do for the five days between the end of my current contract and when I could move in and still have money left over for important things like food. I have three weeks to figure that out however, so I have pushed it aside for now.

My next step after leaving the agent’s office was to get back to a BTS (sky train) or MRT (subway) stop. After being refused a ride from a taxi driver who didn’t want to drive me anywhere, I briefly considered the idea of hopping on another motorbike taxi. When my heart sank into my stomach, I decided not to. 

I eventually caught a taxi and as soon as I recognized where I was, I hopped out, weaved through clogged traffic and made my way up the stairs to the sky train. Thank goodness I'm blessed with a good sense of direction and that I remember where things are after just one time. 

I kept an eye out for places to buy a ticket and when I saw people standing in lines, I walked up to the front and watched people purchase tickets. I then got in a line that moved quickly and looked for my stop, Asok, on the map. Seeing it, I pushed the button with the number 38 on it and the machine told me how much to pay. After putting in the coins, I took the ticket and saw that the system of going through the turnstiles was just like America. 

Once through, I looked on a map to make sure I was going the right way and walked up the stairs to the platform. A few minutes later, the train arrived and I got on and looked above the doorway at another map. One stop. Good.

After I got off the train, I followed the crowd to the stairs and then looked for signs for the MRT. What I forgot to do however was keep my ticket out, as I needed it to go back through the turnstiles in order to exit. Getting out of line was tricky as there were hoards of people but once I took my ticket out of my bag, I was able to exit. From there, I followed the signs to the MRT, crossed a road and re-entered the subway on the other side.

After a few escalators down I saw multiple lines and picked one before realizing that I didn’t have a subway card and had to get into another line to purchase one. I didn’t actually get a ticket however. I received a plastic coin the size of a quarter. Following the crowd, I did as they did and scanned the coin before going through the turnstile. I went down another flight of stairs and looked at the signs to see what side I needed to stand on. For good measure, I asked an attendant. One stop later I was exiting the sardine packed train with my nose pushed up to the wall of an ad for the university I work for, how ironic.

Less than five minutes later I was breathing normally and casually chatting with my friend who met me on the corner outside the station.

Food

As I sit Indian style on my bed, I’m enjoying the breeze as it gently blows through my windows and wafts across my bare shoulders. I have both my windows open on either side of my bed as well as my slider and have just realized that none of them have screens. How could I have missed that? There are no mosquitoes trying to get in and only the occasional fly that I swat with my hand as I continue typing. The air feels good.

Each day is getting progressively cooler as we enter the monsoon season. Although I still sweat profusely when I leave the house, I don’t have the overwhelming sense to peel my clothes off or enter a 7 Eleven just for the air conditioning. I do however, always feel thirsty and hungry and find myself drinking copious amounts of water and eating several small meals per day. It’s not for lack of trying because I love to snack. In fact, many of my family members and I could win competitions. It is that I just don’t like the snacks here in Asia.

The potato chips are oddly sweet with a hint of salt or sour cream and the pretzels are also sweet and the candy is sugary and you guessed it, sweet. The candy bars are the same however, but I don’t have a craving for chocolate today. I did however stock up on small Lindt bars and placed them in my freezer for that special time of month.

Instead, I have been gorging myself on fresh fruit. I picked up freshly sliced pineapple, durian, dragon fruit, Asian pears, grapes and a fruit I don’t know the name of in English. When I want something of substance I have a bowl of Special K with chocolate milk. I’d buy plain ordinary milk but I have not yet found a brand that I like. The process is different so many of the milks taste a little too fresh for me. That’s going to take some time. Aside from milk however, that’s about the only dairy I get. I don’t care for their sugary yogurt, and cheese, butter or sour cream. Surprisingly, cutting out most of my dairy hasn't been that difficult.

I am also hoping that my stomach adjusts to the smaller meals. I was never one for overeating but I am also not used to eating a continuous stream of spicy meals. In fact, I often just point and then try to pronounce it in Thai. When I eat the meals, the spice is often so strong that my nose begins to run, my tongue and lips start to tingle and I break out into a sweat. It was like cleaning out my sinuses with every bite until I finally had to stop because I couldn’t handle it anymore.

As for the desserts, pies and cakes, they are too fluffy, light and strangely tasteless for me, which is funny as so many other things are sweet. Cream as we know it in America is not cream in Asia unless purchased in an international store or restaurant. It’s cream-like but very often tastes like a person just bit into a stick of butter. Custard and pudding have the consistency of Jello and are also quite sweet. The only safe dessert I care for is ice cream. I adore green tea, vanilla and each of the unique flavors like jasmine and cherry blossom.

Funnily enough, I know this is only going to aid me in losing more weight, which I can afford. Thankfully I’m no longer obese, but dropping fifty pounds wouldn't kill me. In fact, it would put me at a solid and healthy weight for the first time in my life.

Having always struggled with my weight and not having been able to squeeze into anything less than a size 20 in more than ten years, this would be a dream come true; a dream I’ve worked hard to achieve. And yet, ironically, I’d still be considered too big to fit into clothes here in Thailand. 

Ah, but there are expert tailors who will happily design the latest fashions for an affordable price so all is not lost.

Details to come as the weight melts off (as it has already begun). 

Today I Made a Friend

Today I made a friend. After a brief discovery that my co-worker and I both studied Italian Literature (I for my concentration in Women’s Studies and her in her undergrad) and had a passion for food, culture, languages, and teaching, we struck up a fast friendship. I’ll call her Rika and she is a colleague of mine at my new position in Bangkok. Not only did she study in America, she traveled to Canterbury to complete a Master's and has since traveled to many countries. We bonded over many things and talked about the difference we wish to make in the world and how we plan to do that. All of this was accomplished over lunch at "9 Cafe" in the Siam Paragon Mall in Central Bangkok, one of the most beautiful establishments I've had a chance to frequent so far.

Prior to our impromptu lunch, she was kind enough to drive me to two potential apartment complexes so that I could look at rooms. The first one called Sky Place, was stunning and showcased beautiful rooms with a lush view of greenery for at least a kilometer but was set too far back on the road for me to worry about catching a taxi into work everyday. I didn't want to spend my money on fare to and from the university. The second place was much more centrally located and offered more of a neighborhood but was designed as a hotel and didn't offer nearly as nice views. In fact, one such room offered a construction site with torn up mud. Moreover, the rent was expensive for what I wouldn't get and they only offered a year contract, so I declined.

The standard in Bangkok are apartment complexes known as residences that offer a clear blue swimming pool, a gym, a car park beneath the establishment and very often, housekeeping once per month. Other places require an upfront rental fee for a refrigerator, TV, and once in a while, a small microwave while many include it in their monthly rental fee. And like any place, location is key. Everyone has different wants, needs and desires. At the top of my list is to find a place that doesn't smell like sewage.

I've received lots of great advice on apartments and locations and have narrowed it down to being as close to Central Bangkok as I can. Having been there twice now in less than a week, it reminds me of a cross between Boston for its history and NYC for it's busyness. Also, to offer a possibly antiquated and stereotyped analogy: the multitude of bicycles in China, are like the plethora of motorbikes in Bangkok. They're just everywhere, but I'm also learning that it's a much more affordable way to get around on one than taking a taxi (which is what I've been doing). Of course what would really help me is to hop on the subway and learn that. However, the subway in Boston is easier to negotiate than the one in Bangkok because it directly connects via intersections whereas the subway stations here are all separate and sort of connect, which is code for exit, walk a little bit and re-enter in a different location. Plus, there are three separate train names and several different lines that twist and turn throughout much of the city. Where I live however, none of the train lines have made it that far. My area is more like the suburbs with horrendous traffic nearly 24/7 and it's dirty, smelly and is going to take some used to.

After looking at both residences, Rika and I hopped back into her bright red Honda Jazz, similar to a Fit in the U.S. and headed downtown. Once there, she pointed out all the major hotels and malls. My head was spinning at the enormity of these shopping centers and how closely connected they were with one another. Then we drove by a police headquarters that wasn’t far from a palace and flashback popped into my mind. I realize this was the exact place my friends and I had jumped out of a taxi thus landing us in that police station, but that’s a story for another time.

Less than ten minutes later we arrived at Siam Paragon, one of the most expensive malls I’ve seen in a long time. We double-parked in the garage beneath and I asked her how people get out of the spaces when they want to leave. She told me that everyone leaves their cars in neutral so that they can be pushed out of the way. That bit of information connected the dots on another situation I had witnessed a few days ago when I watched in shock as some people pushed a car out of their way so they could exit their parking space. I thought this was an isolated incident but it’s quite the norm as parking everywhere is limited. In my mind I tried to imagine people in America pushing a Ford F150 extended cab out of the way. There would be words however, before that ever happened.

After parallel parking, we entered the mall and went up a continuous stream of elevators to enter a circular mall that extended up and branched out five floors. Each floor had it’s own dimension from unstated luxury and wealth: Dolce and Gabana, Fendi, Hermes to clothing: an upscale H&M, Zara, Armani and so on. One floor even boasted an aquarium-like experience and another: electronics of all make and model. The bottom floor hosted an assortment of upscale eateries and the most elegant food court I’ve ever seen. There were also endless streams of people everywhere. It was 4pm and it looked like Christmas. Rika told me that this was nothing compared to once people get out of work, which ranges between 4:30-8pm. Thai’s go to malls after work to walk around, shop and eat dinner so the enormity of the crowd increases tenfold.

Famished, we decided on 9 Café. In America we would say Café 9, but in Thailand, everything is backwards; even the desserts. Imagine ordering a pie apple or an ice cream chocolate. No wonder learning English is difficult as the nouns precede the adjectives. It adds to my mental list of everything that is opposite for me in this country.

We both ordered similar dishes that were appropriately sized and would be considered adequately small by American Standards. My dish included glass noodles with beef and vegetables and was approximately one and a half cups. Rika’s was similar but included seafood. They both came with spicy dipping sauce, which oddly, wasn’t all that spicy for me. I also ordered a blueberry yogurt smoothie and realized too late that it was disgustingly sweet and the whipped cream tasted like butter. The blueberries were more like a sugary dessert than a fruit. To conclude our meal, we ordered a shared dessert that included a kind of apple pie custard that lacked a traditional custard taste and reminded me more of a wiggly jello. Something to note is that their puddings and custards are more jello than the whipped up creamy taste I’m used to and also means that I will be crossing them off my list of things to eat. Although I thrive on different, I am being reminded that I’ve never cared much for Asian desserts.

After our late lunch, we walked around the mall. I finally exchanged my remaining American dollars into Baht and we wandered between our favorite stores. At one point I walked through the beauty department and felt like I needed sunglasses for the blindly bright white shiny floors that reflected the opulence around me. There were every type of American, Korean, Japanese and Thai skincare brands around me and I was officially in sensory overload again. However, despite all this, the one thing that continued to surprise me were the abundance of foreigners. When I had last visited Thailand I don’t remember seeing as many people from different countries as I’ve been experiencing since arriving last Wednesday. It’s creating a kind of culture shock for me because it’s so normal here.

Then I had to remind myself that it’s just another mall and I somehow returned to earth and regained my footing in reality.

One of our last stops was entering a bookstore called Kinokuniya that offered titles in both Thai and English and resembled a Barnes and Noble Bookstore from back home. Rika and I meandered through each aisle talking about our love for books, the classics, Shakespearean poetry and teaching English. I could have spent hours there but had to remind myself that we were only browsing. I did however purchase two books for less than five dollars. I bought The Scarlet Letter and Madame Bovary and had them both bound in clear plastic to protect the use I hope to get from them.

We then meandered onto the electronics floor in order for me to be hit with an overwhelming wave of awe. Every known brand of electronics was accentuated with brightly lit graphics above each stand. I learned that for 200-300 Baht I could get my U.S. bought phone unlocked at a store called MBK located on the fourth floor but at that point I was tired and locked it away for another time.

Our last stop was the Gourmet Market where I purchased a Thai Swiffer called Fargent, tissues, raisin bread and dried papaya. The mop included the wet wipes that weren’t very wet and the raisins that tasted more like candy but the bread itself is quite delicious. The papaya will be eaten for breakfast so no word on that yet.

Leaving the mall, I discovered that no one had pushed her car aside and as we drove away, we chatted about what a great day we both had had and that we would have to do it again soon. She then dropped me off on a street corner halfway between our two places and I stood under the metro trying to decide how I would catch a taxi at 9:30 at night in heavy traffic no less. I could have taken the train but was too tired to figure it all out but I was seriously considering it when after a few minutes I was unsuccessful. Finally, I was able to catch a taxi and forty-five minutes later and arriving at the wrong address, my cabby and I were at a standstill. I had given him the address but forgotten to add that my street was more like a road and therefore forgot to say ‘road’ instead of ‘street’, which took an additional ten minutes to figure out through hand gestures and my non-existent Thai. Add another fifteen minutes of horrendous traffic and we were back in my neighborhood of fetid smells.

The drive was so embarrassed by his mistake that he drove me to my door, literally. He stopped a few feet from the entrance and then hopped out of the cab, ran around the car and opened my door, all the while apologizing for the mix up. I was so touched. I waved him off with a smile and a hand gesture that I hoped said, “Don’t worry about it.” He kept apologizing and calling me “Madam” and then only drove off once I was finally able to get inside the doors to the lobby.

I’ve head some horror stories with taxi drivers but thankfully each of my experiences have been positive.

I entered my apartment with a smile on my face and went to bed shortly after.

First Day of Work

There’s always some uncertainty when beginning a new position. The need to make a good first impression and the pressure to do well can be stressful. Oddly, I’ve felt none of those. Of course I did make a good first impression when I met my colleagues for the first time last Friday and I wasn’t nervous, just anxious.

Since Labor Day, I haven’t worked but have spent the time organizing my life to fit into two checked bags and a small carryon bag. That took nearly the entire month of September and then I hopped on a plane and left. Once I arrived in Bangkok, I learned that the semester was ending and didn’t start up again until the end of October, so it’s more waiting.

My first day of work, I had stress dreams that I was going to miss the van and not know how to get to the university. I therefore woke up at 5am, ninety minutes before my alarm. After changing my outfit twice, I agreed on gray dress pants, a deep plum button down top and ballet slipper Crocs. I then paced my apartment and occasionally looked outside for the van. Anxious, I finally called my co-worker who told me the van arrives at 7:45, not the standard 7:30am on off-semester hours. The van arrived late but we still managed to get on campus by 8:05 because there was surprisingly very little traffic.

Something I am learning very quickly: there is always traffic in Bangkok and it’s especially maddening during rush hour, but for some reason, that morning, there was very little.

Once on campus I was informed that the curriculum-planning meeting wasn’t set to begin until 10am, which mean I had two hours to kill. Once people started coming in I was introduced to every single person at the university and then given a tour of the campus.

By 10am teachers started to drift in and the meeting commenced in a conference room. For the next five hours I listened, a lot and then did even more listening and added the occasional nod of my head in agreement or a comment. I learned much but it was still exhausting nonetheless. Noon is considered lunchtime but after a ten minute discussion of whether or not we should break, order in, or just plow through, we opted for the third option. By 3pm I didn’t want to think about planning, building syllabi, or matching themes to outside resources. I also hadn’t eaten since 6am.

After the meeting concluded, I continued to receive an informal education on what to “expect” in my job, what is said and unsaid and to give Thailand six to twelve months before forming an opinion on whether I love it or hate it. Apparently everyone I’ve spoken to has said the same thing. Thailand will either grow on me, or at the end of the contract I will be dying to get out of the country.

The culture for sure is different than what I’ve experienced so far in Asia as each country has it’s own quirks, frustrations and challenges, but that’s what happens when people live elsewhere and that’s also part of the fun. I’m logging that away for a rainy day and will have to see what I think six months from now.