Salim Does The Orient: 11.13.2005

When planning our trip to Thailand there was one thing I never expected in my wildest dreams. There are more 7 Elevens there than I have ever seen ANYWHERE else in the world. When I got home I went to the 7 Eleven corporate website and found the they have 5,800 stores in the U.S. and Canada. In tiny ass Thailand there are 3,095! That’s a shitload of 7 Elevens.

We left Hyderabad on Saturday morning headed for Thailand. After a few hours in the Bangkok airport, we boarded a tiny little puddle-jumper bound for Koh Samui.
Koh Samui is a small island off the southern coast of Thailand. For years it was mainly a backpacker destination that was known for its raves on the beach and most people went there only for partying. But over the last decade there have been a lot of resorts built on the island that provide full services for those travelers who like to be pampered on their vacation and don’t want to hang out with a bunch of sweaty hippies all night. And since we fall somewhere in between the two, Heather and I found ourselves right at home.

I began sweating as soon as I stepped off the plane, and didn’t stop until about halfway through the flight back to Hyderabad eleven days later.

We stayed at a place called the New Star Resort. They call it a “resort” but it is really a series of only about 20 bungalows set right on the beach. It was absolutely gorgeous. From the front door of our room it was about ten steps to the water. The bungalows have air conditioning and some of them have TVs, but other than that there isn’t much in the way of luxuries. The hotel does have a little restaurant with the tables set up in the sand, and a swimming pool next to that. There weren’t a whole lot of people in our resort or on the island in general as it was the off season. The resort was fairly quiet until our second to last night there, when a big group of Canadians showed up and stayed drunk for the next two days blasting classic rock from their cabins. Until they got there I was complaining about having to see all these Europeans in their tiny little Speedos. But at least the Europeans had the decency to get a tan. If it weren’t for their dark colored hair, I would have thought the Canadians were all albinos. Now, I have nothing against someone not wanting to tan, I mean who wants skin cancer, but at least have the decency to cover you chubby white ass while I’m eating. As if just the sight of them wasn’t enough of a spectacle, they preferred to have every conversation at the top of their lungs. I would have been afraid people would think they were Americans, but every chance they got they reminded everyone (including each other) that they were not from the U.S.
“Boy, the weather’s not like this in Canada, eh?”
“You showed him, Joe! He’ll remember us Canadians for a while!”

The first day on the Island I thought it would be nice to take a walk to a 7Eleven I’d seen and get some snacks and supplies. I had been looking at a map of the place for so long I wanted to get out and really see all these things I’d been reading about. Unfortunately cartography isn’t one of my strong points and what I thought was going to be a nice leisurely walk to the store ended up being a four hour forced march under the tropical sun. It was during this walk that I noticed the abundance of scooter and motorcycle rental shops on the island. I guess I could have rented one, but I kept hearing my dad’s voice in my head telling me not to be a wimp and that the walk would do me good. Three hours into the walk as I sat down on a beach sweating profusely, and trying to get my bearings I think I heard his voice saying “What’s wrong with you, boy? It’s hot as hell out here, why didn’t you rent that scooter?”
That’s the problem with the voices in my head. They’re never very encouraging, and they always seem to tell me things I already know. But then I guess I’d have more to worry about if they told me things I didn’t already know.

When I finally got back to the bungalow, I collapsed on the bed and wondered if it would be stupid of me to stay indoors for the rest of the trip.

For the rest of our stay in Koh Samui Heather and I rented two scooters. Sure, the two of us could have easily taken one scooter, but they were really cheap, and I think we both knew it wouldn’t be much fun for Heather to ride around on the back of a vehicle that I was piloting. If you’re ever looking for a thrill, just hop on a two wheeler with me sometime. My complete and utter lack of control over the thing is matched only by my complete and utter disregard for the rules of the road and my own life.

The main strip is called Central Chaweng. Chaweng Beach is the main beach and the road that runs parallel to it is populated by almost every imaginable type of shop: Bars, restaurants, clothing stores, knife shops, dive shops, and the ever present massage parlors. Other than the fact that they refer to their places of business as massage parlors, the prostitutes make no attempt to hide what they’re selling.

This brings me to an interesting point. As far as prostitution goes, Koh Samui has a very unique scene. Because it’s so in the open, it seems to lose the usual seediness you would find associated with it in a place like the U.S. I found this to be true to a certain extent in Bangkok as well. But in Koh Samui there also seems to be this strange relationship between the girls and the men paying for them that is a sort of compromise somewhere between prostitution and romantic dating.
I can’t speak for what happens in the massage parlors themselves, but around town, day or night, you find a lot of older men, usually European or American, escorting around these bouncy little Thai girls about half their age and usually dressed in not much clothing. I had read about this before, but never like this. In Bangkok it’s not unusual for guys to go there on a business trip or whatever, and if they are staying for more than a few days, rather than go out and find themselves a new hooker every night, they just sort of rent a girlfriend for the duration. These girls will stay with them at their hotel and go out to dinner with them, as well as show them around town. (Sort of a prostitute/concierge.) In Koh Samui, however, since the guys aren’t there for any sort of work the girls are with the guys all day and night. The girls just look cute and pretend to be happy to be with the guy, and the guys buy them their meals, take them to clubs, and from what I could see, they love to take the girls shopping for clothes and jewelry and whatever else the girls giggled at. Again, I can’t speak for what went on behind closed doors, but in public anyway, the men were very, very polite to the girls. The politeness didn’t surprise me too much though, because I found all the Thai people I encountered to be extremely polite and there seemed to be no tolerance for impoliteness.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure most of the girls would rather not be prostitutes, and most of the guys would rather not be greasy old men with no social skills, but these arrangements, once you got used to seeing them everywhere, almost had a strange charm to them and in the end they were just another aspect of the everyday Thai life that I found fascinating.

Most of the shops in Central Chaweng, were selling knock offs of some kind or another. There is a good amount of knock off clothing available in India, but most of it is utter crap: Poorly made T-shirts with a backwards Nike logo or pants with Adidas or someother brand misspelled on the side. And while some of the things in Thailand weren’t of the highest quality, you never had to look far to find Louis Vutton or Nike or Burberry knock offs that were pretty damn good. As some of you know I have a bit of an obsession with shoes, but alas I searched far and wide and not a single store in Koh Samui of Bangkok has shoes in a size 14. If your feet are not freakishly large though, for about $25-$50 you can buy youself a pair of fake Nikes that are almost an exact reproduction of the ones that cost between $100 and $130.

They had recently opened a Muay Thai stadium on the Island, so our second night there we got to go to the fights. It was great. For a few more dollars than the regular seating we got to sit in the VIP section which had little tables and we sat and drank Singha beers and watched some great fights.

We had an absolutely great time in Koh Samui. It was relaxed, we ate GREAT food every night, and met cool people almost everywhere we went. I started noticing more and more westerners living and working there than I had expected. They all came from different parts of Europe or America, but all their stories started the same way: They came to Koh Samui for a two or three week holiday and never left. By coincidence, we met someone from San Francisco who’s two week vacation turned into ten years.
There is a restaurant called Betelnut in San Francisco that Heather and I love and when we saw that there was one in Koh Samui we made sure to eat there. It turned out that the owner used to be one of the head chefs at the one in S.F. We were the only people in the cozy little restaurant so he came out and talked with us for a while and then helped us with some stuff on the menu before disappearing into the kitchen to make us what ended up being the best meal we’ve had since leaving the States.

I also worked out at the first decent gym I’ve been to since leaving the U.S. It was a World Gym that reminded me of the old Muscle Beach gym I saw when I was a kid before they remodeled it. It was pretty cramped full of almost entirely freeweights that were all rusting from the salt air. But the big shop-front windows let in lots of light and they had everything you needed.

After our six days there we flew north to Bangkok for a couple of days. Bangkok is a HUGE city that feels thoroughly comfortable at any time of day or night. It’s smoggy and grimey and hot as shit, and I love it. As soon as I stepped out of the hotel I knew that two days wasn’t going to be enough. I called the airline that night, and although Heather had to leave as planned I stayed behind for four more days.

The hotel was a great find as well. When I had called the day before to make a reservation I was told the only thing they had open was a Suite. I thought that would be too expensive, but it was actually very reasonable. Le Residence hotel wasn’t the easiest place for our cab driver to find, but that was a good thing. It’s not on a main drag so it’s relatively quiet at night, and there aren’t a lot of rooms in the place so you don’t feel like you’re crammed into a box full of boxes like some of those big hotels. The front desk was manned by one of three people: A constantly stoned teenage kid who spoke absolutely no English, a constantly stoned kid who spoke pretty good English, and a borderline psychotic but extremely good natured middle aged woman whose English was great but sometimes when you were talking to her she’d sort of rub and scratch franticly over her whole body like something was crawling on her. When she laughed it was sort of a deranged cackle as though the laugh had been bottled up inside her and was now flying free into the world. And she laughed a lot. Mental deficiencies and drug habits aside, the three of them seemed to keep the place running quite smoothly, and I felt quite safe knowing they were on watch downstairs.

The suite was basically a one bedroom apartment. It was very clean and had a shower that blasted out steaming hot water. Heather was absolutely delighted with the shower, and spent almost the entire first morning in it. Hot water for more than a minute or two is hard to come by here in Hyderabad.

Near where we were staying was a huge night market surrounded by massage parlours and strip clubs. You could get just about anything other than fresh fruit here. It was almost overwhelming. It was packed and sweaty, but it was fun. As well as all the usual knock off Nikes and such, the have an absurd amount of pirated DVDs, CDs, and video games. Each one costs the equivalent of $2.00. But the more you buy the more they are willing to discount things. I saw a few people who were buying hundreds at a time.

We went to a little whole in the wall restaurant that we read about and had great fusion food. The next day Heather went to an actual massage parlor near our hotel. In addition to the brothels, Bangkok has plenty of real massage parlor/salons. Heather got a two hour long facial-full body massage thing while I wandered around town some more, and then we went and had more great Thai food.

Heather left the next morning, and I moved into a single room. The single room was tiny with a little bed and tiny TV and fridge. Since it was just me I found it quite comfortable. I spent the next few days exploring as much of Bangkok as I could.

I got to go to Lumpinee stadium one night which is the Mecca of kickboxing. I went to a huge shopping district called Khao San and found out just how cheap and efficient and clean the Skytrain is. (It’s sort of like the MUNI light rail system back home, only cleaner.)

On Sunday I went to the Chatuchak weekend market. Words do not exist in the English language to describe the sheer size and density of this market. When I got on the skytrain I was worried I wouldn’t know which direction to go to find the market when I got off. As we approached the station I looked out the window and realized this would not be a problem. The market began passing under the tracks a good thirty seconds before we even pulled in to the station. Then when I got off I looked over the edge of the platform, and saw the market was everywhere. It was under the station and just sprawled out in every direction. It was impressive, but I hadn’t seen anything yet. This picture is from when I first came in one of the gates, and thought, “Wow, there are a lot of shops here.” Then I turned into one of the shops, and realized that they weren’t shops at all, but rather entrances to long, long narrow little hallways that were absolutely crammed from floor to ceiling with anything and everything you could think of. There was a dried food section, an army surplus section, a cooked food section, a furniture section, a section for flowers, a section for fake flowers, a section for pets, a section for art, handicrafts, shoes, musical instruments, glassware, flatware, trinkets, linens, used clothes, new clothes, the list just kept going. Every time I’d turn a corner I’d think “Holy shit. I would not have thought of that.” It was just endless. Unfortunately I couldn’t get a good picture of it because it was too cramped and crowded. Just suffice it to say that the picture you see here is one of the least crowded areas of the place.
After about three hours of wandering, I noticed a very strange change in the weather. It was unsettling and I couldn’t quite figure out why until I turned one corner, popped out into the open, and saw a huge funnel cloud descending onto the city just a few miles away. No one else seemed bothered by it and everyone just scurried about their business. Two Australian girls were watching it nearby and one asked the other if they should be worried. Her friend said “Well no one else seems too worried about it.” And she was right, so I just went back in to the market and found a place to eat between the pet section and the sculptures section.

Then the sky opened up and it poured rain for about thirty minutes, which was nice because I just sat back and enjoyed my food at an outside table under an awning and watched the monsoon try and consume the city. By the time the rain stopped, the funnel cloud was gone, and I went back to sifting through the market.

By the time night fell I had probably seen less than half of the place, but I was exhausted so I headed back to the skytrain and went home.

In Bangkok I got to work out at a big gym that was basically a 24 Hour Fitness type of chain-gym. It was clean and they had tons of equipment and classrooms spread over 4 floors of space. It was really quite nice. I apparently missed the signs my third day there because I was completely caught off guard by what I have now come to refer to as “Gay Day”. I walked into the gym to find it absolutely packed. I didn’t really think too much of it until about halfway through my workout I realized that I was the only blatently heterosexual man in the place, and I was the only person training alone. In Bangkok it’s not uncommon to see middle aged European men escorting around little Thai boys just like the girlfriends for hire in Koh Samui. And this day in the gym they were all working out together. Much like the meat-market gyms on Market near Castro, there seemed to be more socializing than actual working out. But no one got in my way while I was lifting so I didn’t really care how they spent their gym time.

All in all I found Thailand to be the single best vacation I’ve ever been on and can’t wait to go back. Koh Samui is ridiculously relaxing, and Bangkok is too in its own sort of hectic way. The one thing that I will remember most is how genuinely friendly the people there are. There is a real sense of casual ease there that I think anyone would get along with. I miss it already.