Since coming here, I've:
- Had three incredibly debauched nights, each culminating in it's own climatic ending
- Sworn off alcohol after said nights
- Drunkenly wandered into a Thai gay club (more on that later)
- Been to a Thai kickboxing match
- Run twice in miserable heat
- Gotten diarrhea
- Spoken about as much Thai as I did back in the States
The Thai people are exactly as advertised: shy, soft-spoken, non-confrontational, and never in a hurry. Seriously, I thought American college students meandered, we're not worthy at all. More importantly they all speak enough English that none us are forced to rely on our Thai (probably best for everyone). Thai is a tonal language, and frankly, as Westerners we are almost incapable of making many of the sounds. Sure, we'll probably learn eventually, but for the moment we might as well not even bother speaking Thai. This is actually somewhat disheartening for me, as I vowed not to be the asshole American who never learns the language, but it looks more and more like that may be a possibility. I'm also disheartened by the fact that I'm having trouble uploading pictures (not that I've taken any anyway). But whatever, if you're actually reading this, you just want to hear about how drunk I got anyway.
14 Oct. 2009
One of the most popular pastimes in Thailand is Muay Thai. You may be familiar with this, as it used by many UFC fighters. I can't even begin to tell you how often you are accosted in the street but people handing out flyers for the next match. Brandon, one of the guys in the program, trains in Muay Thai, and at his suggestion a group of about ten of us decided to attend one of the matches. After haggling with a song-taw driver (never accept the first price they offer), we made our way to the arena. If you get the opportunity, you should do a Google Image search of song-taw (or maybe song-tau's). Basically, they're small trucks with camper shells. Only benches have been installed in the truck bed. They're probably the cheapest and most accessible form of transportation in the city, and we use them whenever we can't walk. Along the way, the driver stopped (twice) to ask for directions, despite the fact that this arena isn't exactly small. When we arrived, he decided that he wanted to hang around and watch the fight. The arena itself looked like it was taken directly out of the Street Fighter, an underrated movie by the way; The ring was in the middle, with a bunch of fold-out chairs placed alongside it. Surrounding the lower-level was an upper-tier made out of wood and completely populated by foreigners. Naturally, we sat in the upper-tier. From what I can gather, the majority of the foreigners were English and American, and almost all of them had intense dreadlocks and reeked of hippie.
As the fights began, a small traditional-Thai band began to play. Brandon informed us that this helped the fighters keep their rhythm throughout the match. I'm glad I was sober, because otherwise it might have sounded as if a cat were being strangled. There were about the seven fights, the publicized fight featuring "Bia France," who, as you might guess, was French. The fights themselves were thoroughly entertaining affairs, but the best part were the Thai fans. A couple hundred respectable, middle-aged Thai men sat next to the ring, and they would jump and scream every time a blow was landed. Further, there was a constant exchange of money. They made me think of the Vietnamese men that Frank always gambles with on "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Watching them was probably just as enjoyable as watching the fighters. The final fighter featured a fighter named "James Bond," who was actually Thai, but I didn't see if he won or lost, because I got into an epic conversation about the World Cup with Rob and Neil.
16 Oct. 2009
So last night I went out with Rob and Neil (two Englishmen of the highest caliber). We started out in the night bazaar, which I need to write about in a separate post, then made our way to the some of bars in downtown Chiang Mai. There was a string of about ten in a row, and each had about 4 or 5 women of ill repute who would literally try to grab you and pull you in as you walked by. Part of my Thai repertoire is "Mai au khrap," which means "I don't want any." Rob pointed out later that this may not have been exactly the right thing to say, but at least it got them to leave me alone. After deciding on a bar, we were continually pestered by a string of Thai children anywhere from 4 to 7 years old, hounding us to buy necklaces and the like. In spite of this, we managed to get completely sloshed. In my state, Neil appeared to be the least drunk, so the duty of leading us to the next bar fell on him. We then wandered into a ridiculously expensive Euro-style club where we ran into our fellow classmates Adam, David, Kerry, and Olga. Adam politely informed us, "You realize this is a gay club right?" No idea. Being the open-minded people that we are, we shrugged it off and proceeded to join them in an intense dance session; finally making our way home.
A note about running in Thailand
It's miserable, completely fucking miserable. However, I'm a stubborn bastard so I've managed to sack up and do it for the past week. The other day I got to the point where I had to take my shirt off. I never run without a shirt because it's kind of douchebaggy, but I didn't care at this point. The moment I stripped it off I was greeted with lots of catcalls and whistles by the locals. I was pretty flattered.
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