Saturday, January 23, 2010

worn shoes, semi-recent travels

yes, there has been quite the silence on here. i accept blame, but do not take it personally.
for those not in the loop, i was in thailand and cambodia for nine days (dec 25 - jan 3). the writing below is the same as an email i sent out a few days ago. but otherwise, general recap of travels, commence henceforth.
______________

Life feels fleeting, small, minute, to the massiveness of the ruins of a previous civilization. To see the forest break down massive temples with ease, with pleasure. The essence of mortality. For all the colors to see, noises to hear, fragrances and foods to smell, for all of the things to see and be, nine days was too short. Bangkok, Koh Chang, Siem Reap. Nine days living out of a pack: a handful of t-shirts, one pair of shorts, and the mistaken assumption that one of my guesthouses would be able to do laundry in something faster than a twenty-four hour air dry cycle. To uproot myself from 30 F Seoul to 90 F Thailand and Cambodia. To wait for the airport bus, winter weather clothes wearers with stares at the foreigner in a t-shirt and shorts.


Christmas day in the air. Christmas evening in Bangkok, the absence of snow, the hustle and bustle of another city. Meandering around Khao San Road in Bangkok, the described "backpacker" area, being the place to get a really cheap hostel. In actuality, the young twenty-something Western area with a couple backpackers here and there. Of sleeping, a bed (no sheets) and a fan for five dollars. The next morning, get an early morning start to Wat Pho. Walk around the temple for two hours without a soul in sight. As the city starts to wake up, cross the river and meander Wat Arun for another several hours. At this point, the overwhelming nature of Seoul and Bangkok are becoming intermixed and I decided to leave for the peace of Koh Chang a day early. Take a bus from Ekami (eastern bus terminal) to Trat. Be forced two watch of the scariest movies you've ever seen. I don't mind a bus that plays a movie, but generally you have headphones and not a surround-sound system with volume to the max. A Thai horror movie and children with heads peeking over their chairs with morbid fascination. Make long-drawn out conversation for six hours with the German who sat next to you and wants to become for traveling buddy. When he asks, explain to him with sincere passion how incredible Minnesota truly is. Upon arriving in Trat around eight p.m., you'll miss the seven p.m. last ferry out to Koh Chang. This is okay as Trat winds up being a really cool town to spend the night in. A clean guesthouse for the same price as the Bangkok room. A really awesome restaurant and yet another fantastic Thai dinner for all of 40 baht ($1.20). Most meals throughout the country will be on the range of 30-60 baht with the simple question, "are you eating like a king or just a prince?" Between the restaurant, converse and share traveling stories with some Italians, French, and Germans. This will happen a lot: the sharing of traveling stories. Some people think it's obnoxious. I think it's only obnoxious when someone is trying to win. Otherwise, I'm all for learning through others experiences. After four hours with my new friends, sleep.

Koh Chang living. Split a taxi to the ferry. Ocean gaze.... or gulf gaze. Though some may say, you are not technically on the ocean but in a gulf or sea, I contend they are all relatively the same body of water. Gazing at large bodies of water has long been a favorite activity. From Minnesota's Lake Superior, to the Brooklyn Hudson Bay, Busan's Pacific, etc, even rivers will do the trick. The Mississippi circa white sands beach by commoner's name. Koh Chang holds much excitement as I'll be meeting up with several friends who had come down a few days earlier. While they went the way of a resort in the middle of the island, I went twenty clicks further south to Bai Lon Bay (lonely beach) and slept in a hut by way of a mosquito net. For Koh Chang, descriptive stories can best be described through voice. Otherwise, coral snorkeling, fire poi shows, ocean gazing, Annie Dillard for yet another time. "Time is eternity's pale interlinear, as the islands are the sea's. We have less time than we knew and that time buoyant, and cloven, lucent, and missile, and wild." Here is some advice. There is a proper way to return a rented scooter and you shall probably figure by this following story that the best way is simply to return the five dollar a day scooter the next morning. Snorkeling at eight a.m. Wake up at six to eat breakfast, drive the twenty-five clicks into town to return the scooter, take a taxi to your friends' resort, go snorkeling for the day. Again, wake up at six a.m. to a down-pouring rain. Decide there is no way whatsoever that you are riding the scooter in this rain. Go hungry because all of the cafes stay open late for the Bai Lon Bay revelers, but do not open up early for you. The rain stops at seven. Find out from a local that the taxi's start at eight a.m. If you are not at your friends' resort by eight, the entire day of snorkeling (and the money paid) will be all down the drain. Wait from six a.m. until seven thirty a.m. before deciding that, "ok, if I go extremely slow on this scooter, I'll be okay."  Islands are usually hilly, Koh Chang is no different. The first ten clicks are nerve-racking, but okay. You are going extremely slow. Zero throttle on any of the downhills. Use the breaks as much as you can. The problem on the next downhill, extra slick, is that if you use the breaks too much, the scooter will slide out under you. Too fast and you'll reach the bottom of the hill and need to make the sharp turn. You're essentially walking the scooter down the hill, but it's still too fast (particularly for having an automatic engine that keeps you in too high of a gear). Crash the scooter. Now, I don't believe there was any severe danger, in that there was no way I was going to let myself go fast or even mildly fast, but cuts and scraps abound. You'll shatter the glass of the left mirror. You'll break of the right mirror in its entirety. The front panel mud flap has a very large crack through it. Pebbles in your foot, bloodied. Park the scooter.  Hail a truck (taxi's still aren't running) to get a ride. He see's the scooter. He gives the impression like he'll give you a ride. You'd be sitting in the back, anyway. Show him your bloodied foot, arms. An attempt at pity. He drives away. Finally find a human being with compassion and get a ride to the resort. Wash the rocks imbedded into flesh out. Spend the next five hours in salt water. Be extremely conflicted with your environmental self as the boat you are on has an oil leak and is slowly, but surely drip, drip, dripping oil into the water. See some legitimate fish and coral. On the last of four islands, on the beach is the toto farm. What? What is a toto farm? Oh..... Turtle, gotcha. Teach your boat drive the normal compliment to "awkward turtle."

The scooter ends up being only seventy dollars to fix. That's amazing, because your friends got screwed and had to pay thirty-five dollars to fix a small scratch. You spent the entirety of the day thinking you would have to pay three hundred. More amazing food for the evening. Back to Bai Lon Bay for a welcome Minnesota surprise. Wonder along the street into Stone Free, an all wooden cafe, upon hearing the Thai band playing. Sounds really good, let's go in. Wait, what? You ain't goin' nowhere?.... A Bob Dylan cover band in Thailand? Wait, an extremely good Bob Dylan cover band, regardless of location, Thailand or otherwise? Pack up your money, pull up your tent, McGuinn, you ain't goin' nowhere.

And now, to leave Thailand. Despite reading a plethora of information on the internet of how every single tourist bus in thailand is a scam, your mind can be changed upon meeting one person, again - another German, who says, "yes, they are a scam, but a navigable scam." Rather than navigate a huge maze of public buses, the cheaper option and faster option is the direct Koh Chang to Siem Reap tourist bus. Now, I took the seven a.m. bus. If I took the noon bus, I probably would have been forced to sleep at some random guesthouse in the middle of the night. With that said, the first scam to come was being stopping five miles, eight clicks from the border at the tourist bus restaurant. I didn't mind this one, as I was on the bus for the previous five hours and was hungry for lunch. The next scam to come was saying, "fill out this visa information here and now. It'll be $35."
I question, "what? no. it's $20."
"No, sir, they raised the price. It's $35."
"No... no, it's $20. My friend that came through here three days ago paid $20."
"Ok, fine sir, you can pay $20 at the border if you wish, rather than doing it here, but it will take 3-4 days."
Now, I had brought my pack inside with me. The others in the bus run off to catch our bus as it drives away down the street. "Filling up with gas" / would have been rifling through everyone's stuff if they were given the chance. Back on the bus, to the border, the border crossing takes all of one hour. 3-4 days, right. Have the company give you the pleasant option of the Cambodian bus (five hours) or the taxi (two hours). Team up with two Canadians, but refuse to put our bags in the trunk. The common scam of "give me one hundred dollars or I drive off with your bags." Yelling all around, "you don't trust us? you can put your bags in the trunk!" the cambodian's yell. Give up, go back to the free five hour bus. They come back and say, "ok, you can keep your bags with you." In the place of the shady, nondescript, false taxi with no signs or decals is a real, live, legit taxi and driver. Siem Reap! Angkor Wat!

Siem Reap, for your knowledge, is the small tourist town outside of Angkor Wat. No one is actually allowed to live within the temple complex. In Siem Reap is the best hostel by far. Air conditioning, a comfortable bed and clean sheets, a good breakfast, a helpful staff, and the rare feeling that all of my stuff wasn't going to get stolen. To Angkor Wat by bicycle. I shall not let my opinion of bicycles become a prejudice, however, seeing Angkor Wat by bicycle is by far the best way to see it. By tuk tuk, everything goes by too fast. By walking, everything is too far. Day two, probably four clicks each way from the nearest temple, I stop to take a photograph of some water buffalo in the rice paddies. Down from the trees jump three boys who immediately start trying to sell trinkets to me. They are everywhere. They will bug you for twenty minutes to buy something. I quickly decided the best way to deal with children everywhere trying to sell you trinkets was to turn the tables on them. To sell things to them? What, you don't want to buy my watch? What about my camera? Okay, they'll buy my watch for fifty dollars. However, that bracelet that cost one dollar just a moment ago now costs one hundred dollars. Tricky little kids. "Where are you from, mister? If I can name the capital city of where you are friend, you buy from me?" They have all fifty states memorized, plus many countries. The capital of Madagascar. Sheesh. "Okay, I'll buy from you if you can tell me the capital of Antarctica." "Antarctica city!"

But 2009 must end, is this correct? It seems the best way to spend it was to be dancing with a whole bunch of Cambodians. I traveled on the scam bus alone, though my friends came two days later. Dance with the Cambodians at their guesthouse, twirling little Khmer kiddos through the air. However, it seems like most of them were taxi drivers, as the party ended at 11:30. I suppose we'll make our way into town for revelry with the masses while trying to find the other half of friends amidst a countdown and a hoard of people. Chonun Tomei, happy new year. Revel for a little bit, but then decide to get some early sleep. By the third day of exploring the temple complex, I decided that instead of seeing the western baray temples, I'd do a secondary trip around some of the ones already seen, plus some off the path exploring. Imagine being two miles from Angkor Wat, meandering along a side path in the middle of the forest only to find a treehouse. Climb one hundred fifty feet into the air for an excellent birds eye view of the forest. Angkor Wat barely peaking above the treetops.

Despite many other significant stories of Thailand and Cambodia, it was eventually time to travel back to Bangkok and spend an evening in the city, biding our time before our early morning flight out. 7:30 flight, but had to be at the airport around 5. What to do in Bangkok for 6 hours? Street food, thai massages, a crazy hike over to China town, another crazy walk over around the Golden Temple, city meandering. Good friends, good laughter. Go to the airport around 1:30 a.m., arrive around 2.30. Try to sleep for a couple hours on hard benches. Freeze some butts off. That airport was freezing cold. We ended up going outside and trying to sleep, which was certainly more comfortable and a much more pleasant temperature (70 versus 50). Though I didn't sleep, as I ended up chatting with some Americans nearby desperately trying to make it back to Korea after being screwed over repeatedly by China Air.

An eventual flight out, with perhaps an hour of sleep for the evening. In-flight movie, a short layover in Taipei, and another in-flight movie. And back in Korea, where I froze my butt off with my shorts and t-shirt. By this point, the shorts were incredibly dirty (especially after the mud-filled scooter crash), though I had washed t-shirts with the wonderful air drying available.

But here I am, back in Korea, back for another six months. I write this letter two weeks after returning, four days past a milestone, the official half way mark, January 19. How fast, but also at times how slow, the first six months have gone by. Stories for the days, stories for the years. This land (Korea), that land (Thailand and Cambodia), and all of the things I am seeing, hearing, being, and learning that I will forever keep with me.

Peace,