On Future Travels, and Other Driftings

Oh, deer. I have a confession to make...

All this time, I've been telling everyone I would leave Taiwan on September 9th (9.9.09, Never Forget)... but I looked at my flight confirmation again today, and discovered I would have missed my plane by four days! Better now than then, yea?

So, my official departure is Saturday, September 5th, 2009. I haven't quite yet decided what to do with the Taiwan Drift when that time comes. I do know I don't want to stop writing... or stop traveling! This year abroad has sparked Wanderlust in me something unquenchable.

In fact, I hope to take one more trip abroad before heading towards the States. I've had my fair share of Thailand, I do believe. Japan and Malaysia are still among the top of my list. I've also been leaning towards Indonesia for some time, but the recent travel warnings might make that difficult. Political protests (and you know, terrorism) aside, Jakarta and Bali both seem beautiful destinations.

Then again, in the wake of protest may be the best time to visit? I'll monitor my travel sites for another week or so to see where the best deals are before taking the plunge and committing to my last drift off the island before returning home.

Though I've found a few new sites in my travels, I still revert to tried and true Expedia.com for many of my flights. Recently, I was turned on to a new site, HotelsCombined.com. From my poking around, it has one of the most comprehensible layouts for travel sites out there. Does anyone else feel lost trying to navigate discount travel sites? Save you money?

Probably. Save you time? Maybe not...

That didn't seem the case with Hotels Combined, so I'm looking forward to giving them a shot.

Wherever I choose to travel, I'll be sure to keep everyone at The Drift updated. There is one post-Taiwan trip I have in mind, but I'll keep the suspense for a wee bit longer before I announce that one. I will also keep you all updated with the future of the Drift, for there certainly will be one.

As always, thanks for Drifting with me.

The Journey is the Destination.

[Photo: Champoo Wild Life Sanctuary, Thailand]

Escaping Pattaya - The Treetop Adventure, or Pattaya Part Tree

The Daylight Hours between
A Nightta Pattaya, Parts One and Two
---------------------------

The sun was up, and I knew I wanted to get my day moving, as it was my last in Thailand. Slightly disappointed in myself for sleeping in, I rushed down the elevator in search for breakfast.

Upon entering the lobby, I was greeted by the same receptionist from the night before.

"You're up early." she stated in disinterested surprise.
"Am I?" I answered, still half asleep.

She nodded towards the clock on the wall. 6:30?! I guess I was up early.

Taking advantage of my early hours, I left the lobby and jogged (/walked.) along the boardwalk for a couple kilometers. This would be the only time I saw Pattaya Beach in full daylight.

An hour or so later, I returned and was talked out of eating breakfast at my hotel, by my hotel's staff, and directed towards the buffet down the block at their sister hotel. Strange, I thought, but I did eat my fill before finishing my morning on the rooftop pool.

After deciding on a new hotel to stay in, and catching a motorbike taxi to get there, I found a travel agent, set on discovering some of the nearby islands.

Unfortunately, I was told, all organized trips had been booked at least a day prior and left before any of the agents were open in the morning. Renting a private charter to an island just wasn't worth the money as a single traveler. Neither came as a big surprise, though both were a slight disappointment.

I asked her if there was anything else, I could do. After the previous night's festivities, I wanted out of this city. She pointed at brouchers like "Zoo" and "Snake Show." My complete lack of interest clearly transcended the boundaries of bi-lingual communication.

"You don't seem like someone who wants the regular kinds of tourism..." I grinned and shook my head to confirm her thought.

It was around this time I allowed my attention to focus on a poster I had seen several in various locations.

"What about that?" I asked inquisitively. She smiled, knowing we found the one.

Flight of the Gibbon: Asia's Treetop Adventure.

I was sold. Completing the transaction, and dashing back to my hotel room to prepare, I met the small bus back in front of the travel agent's small office. Last to be picked up, I took my seat and turned to greet my companions-in-adventure: four young Israeli men, and their Thai girl friend.

Making brief introductions, we set off for our ride. Not long later, we found ourselves in the secluded Champoo Wildlife Sanctuary, not far outside Pattaya.

After the ritualistic signing our life away, promising we know we could die and it would be our fault if we did, the six of us strapped in our harnesses, grabbed our helmets, and met Mike and Don, our Tree Top guides.

The two guides were incredible, and fully knowledgeable of the surrounding forest and history of our expedition. The pack of eager adventurers hiked up hill before climbing the first platform. It was here we were told we stood on the first of 24 platforms with 16 zip lines, and several free-fall rappels looming ahead of us. Most of our group swallowed hard, and shifted nervously; some double checked their safety lines.

One of our guides strapped in, launched himself off the safety of the platform and rushed through the trees before landing several meters away on the other side.

"Your turn," the remaining guide smiled. It was at this point I knew we were in for a lot of fun. None the less, I couldn't help but look down...

Flight of the Gibbon was an incredible adventure for your atypical tourist, and a great break from standard Thailand fanfare. I found myself bonding with 7 strangers, to the point I was sad to see them go at the end of our tree hopping. The wildlife sanctuary was breathtaking: out of city smog, and in the grasp of nature, the setting offered as authentic an experience as possible.

And the zip lines, the free falls, they were by no means watered down. At the peak, we soared over one hundred meters above the ground. The longest line lasted over 300 meters, we glided like flying squirrel - or, well, gibbon - from perch to perch.

At first, it wasn't easy to trust the cables and harness that held us. But as time went on, it was encouraging to see how each member of the group became more and more willing to dive off the ledge and let go of their inhibitions... and their white-knuckle grip.

All-in-all, I'd say my unplanned Plan B was a soaring success. If I was to chalk up the score on this Rematch Trip to Thailand, I wouldn't hesitate to say I came out on top.

Treetop, that is.

A Nightta Pattaya - Part Two

This is a continuation post from A Nightta Pattaya - Part One
---------------------------

Showered, and now looking -- and smelling -- like a functioning member of society, I set out in hunt for some incredible Thai food.

The women of the Pattaya Beer Bars began to clamor for my attention near the moment I stepped outside.

"Come, come on, just one drink"
"I'm... I'm really hungry."
"Do you want some company? I come with you. You so lonely."

"I'm not lonely, but solitary.

"Really though, I just want some food. Is there anything good around here?"

The ladies pointed me in the direction of an outdoor eatery that was obnoxiously sponsored by Heineken. I took the suggestion, nonetheless, because of the stage and live music.

In my travels through Asia (Taiwan, Thailand, Hong Kong), I've found a common thread with non-native English speakers performing English songs: Mispronunciation and misinterpreted lyrics. I'm glad to say, however, this late-evening eatery with the band who looked straight out of Scott Stapp's fan club - Thailand branch, was a great exception to the rule. And boy, was it.

In fact, their performance was near flawless...

What drew me to the patio was not the flashing neon Heineken sign on the stage, but the serenade of my all time favorite Aerosmith ballad. Even from across the street, it was unmistakable. As I drew closer, the band moved to the chorus and I confirmed my excitement. The singer brushed back his hair and belted out, in great Steven Tyler fashion, "Don wan Messy Ting."

After ordering what I hoped would be the best coconut curry I've ever tasted, I sat back to listen to more music.

A female vocalist donned the stage and offered her rendition of Sarah Connor's "Bounce Baby On the Door."

At the time of my order, I requested from the menu what looked to be a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice (they didn't have Thai Iced Tea). During this song the waitress brought me a cup of Tang...

The vocalists teamed up for a slow ballad, certain to be a cross-platform crowd pleaser. Even in Thailand, a little Country goes a long way with an audience.

It was a touching affair, and the duo shared a strong sense of chemistry on stage as they seemingly sang to each other Shania Twain's "You Still the Why I Wan."

My food was served. And while the coconut broth of my soup was admittedly delicious, I couldn't for the life of me piece together the sticks and leaves floating next to my chicken. It wasn't until half a song later that I realized the foreign floating objects to be dry bamboo and stale basil (though I had seen a planter with remarkably similar leaves just outside the "kitchen tent").

As I continued to crunch away, and began opting for the meat-itarian version of my meal, the drummer and keyboardist hit the first note of the band's final number, which nearly made me choke on a rogue bamboo shoot the moment I heard it.

Could it be? A chart topping smash hit by a Southern California band from my own backyard? The first line confirmed it: "I holdin on yo rocks got me ten feet on the ground." Yes, this was the work of none other than One Republic -- made famous by Timbaland. Unabashedly, I sung along with the chorus: "Is too late to Paw-jiz-eyes!"

Despite my disappointing meal, I left the cantina thoroughly... entertained... by the stage show.

After a quick trip around the block, it became clear to me that I would not find anything to top that entertainment in this part of town. So, decidedly, I returned to my room and retired for the evening.

My next night in Pattaya, at a different hotel and different part of town, I found the cuisine to fit my fancy - and a tall, frosty glass of Thai Ice Tea to boot. If you've never had Thai Ice Tea, search out your local Thai food joint, and ask for some there. Now. My blog will be here when you get back.

When the last of my meal hit the bottom of my stomach, I thought to myself, "Where's the one place I can go where I know I'll find other travelers and won't be hassled by the working girls... and boys."

(Did I mention Thailand has one of the largest populations of openly transgendered people? "Lady boys," as they're known, are simply considered a part of Thailand's tourist culture. Sometimes it's blatant, sometimes... you'd never guess it. I'm no anthropologist, but I have a thoughts as to why they're so affluent here.)

I digress.

Only one place came to mind, but I knew it was all that I needed. Walking along the street with determination, I stopped only when the neon lights illuminated my view. I arrived.

The bar/venue at the Hard Rock Cafe and Resort, Pattaya was quite less than packed, but the Thai-filled house-band was about to hit the stage, and promised to be an improvement on the previous nights affairs.

They did not disappoint. And I was right about my hunch. As soon as it became painfully obvious that I was there by myself, a guy/girl duo of Australian friends bounced over to me and told me of their pact with each other not to let anyone in the bar that night sit alone. Not one to cause others break pacts, I was obliged to join them.

Hard Rock closed early for a nightlife-driven town, so my new friends Lyndon and Cassie, and I hit the streets. I was surprised to find the working class of Pattaya were much less persistent - or even noticeable - when traveling in a group.

We walked the streets and the beach, and even popped into McDonald's (or Mackers, as they called it) for a late snack; they had not yet eaten dinner and it was open all night.

Having to catch an early bus to the airport the next morning, I retired to my room with very little time for any sense of a good night's rest.

Though I enjoyed my time, and though my second night proved a great advance over the first, I never did have the chance to relax on the beach for long hours during the day.

Why, you ask? Well for that answer, you'll simply have to wait until the next post.

A Nightta Pattaya - Part One

I blame the man on the plane for sending me to Pattaya.

He was certainly an interesting fellow, quite eccentric. A Singapore national living in Bangkok, by way of Taiwan and Australia, he signed divorce papers, packed up, and backpacked the US for an entire year, drifting wherever the wind and free rides took him.

To his credit, I don't actually believe he meant to be malicious. In fact, he probably would have done the average joe-backpacker a favor by suggesting Pattaya. Then again, maybe I should have been warned when his "Ride the skytrain to the last stop, and you'll find the best 100 baht buffet, and the only $100 baht/hr Thai Massage in the city" advice turned up void - which put me out an hour's time and about $20 baht on the above-ground subway and left me riding the bus on an empty stomach.

But maybe I just didn't look hard enough. And maybe when I said "I want out of Bangkok and would love to see the beach" he genuinely thought "Pattaya" to be the best and closest option. And maybe it was.

Yet, if you're a single white male traveling alone with absolutely zero interest in hiring a prostitute, Pattaya is about the worst choice on the planet for "Beach City Vacation." It's like saying, "I really want to see the rich culture of Amsterdam, and heard there are cheap rooms in the Red Light District... I'll stay there."

Live and learn, right?

In haste, I hopped on my bus leaving Bangkok for the beach city, and assumed I would find a currency exchange there. I began to panic and take note of all the 24 hr McDonald's along the way, as it quickly became 8pm before I arrived. But the open-aired taxi driver assured me I would be alright, and persuaded me to let him take me there. I'm proud to say I brought his price down from $150 baht (about $5 US) to $50 baht (about a buck fifty). It wasn't so much a negotiation as it was a "You've got to be kidding me" response to his first quote.

Along the way, the driver slowed to roll around a turn. At the corner, a group of girls in their late twenties let out a whoop from their beer-bar seats. Puzzled, I turned to my Middle Eastern cab mates, intending to ask if the ladies were acquaintances of theirs, but the two stared back at me with a look that told me this trip to Pattaya might be more than I bargained for.

After passing 3 or four, the taxi dropped me off in front of an illuminated teller window. Completing my transaction, I began to walk towards where I presumed there would be a hotel. A large, gaudy looking building with an illuminated sign that said "Inn" or "Lodge" or both, I really don't remember. I do remember a few bellhop looking young men and something of a well dressed host. I assumed this all added up to Hotel.

My bad.

Approaching the entrance, backpack in tow, I began to form the sentence "Do you have any rooms?" directed at the host who appeared in charge of the front door. As the last few words were escaping my lips, the dual sliding glass doors hummed open, revealing a wide expanse of a lobby and glass window at the far end. Behind the Plexiglas perched a score of beautiful Thai women in pretty pink outfits.

My feet skidded to a stop, and a single eyebrow arched towards the ceiling.

The glorified Bellhop must have seen the expression on my face as I slowly backed away from the door and turned to leave. "No, sir, we no have, but down the road have Excellent Hotel." I blinked, and nodded in thanks.

Along the route to this excellent hotel, I passed another beer-bar. And another. And... wow, there's a lot of these here.

A Pattaya beer bar is a bare-bones, no walls, bar, stools, and a couple tables establishment. It's a bar that would like to pretend that it looks out across a flat sea, where the open atmosphere beckons in fresh, salty air, but it's actually two blocks and two hundred identical beer-bars away from that setting.

And at the corner table, closest to the entrance, sit a half dozen ladies pining for someone's attention. At every. single. bar. Unbeknown to me, I fit their M.O.

Lucky me.

Excellent Hotel now in sight, I bee-lined for the real bellhops, who ushered me inside. (I would say something to the effect of "with eager women diving for my heels," but that would be superfluous.)

Even with the 50% discount they were offering, the hotel was more than I cared to spend, and more luxury than I required. I told the nice lady behind the counter that I would search around the city, and come back if nothing else fit my needs. She snickered.

Immediately upon stepping outside, backpack still in tow, it began to rain. It felt like a scene from a Jim Carey movie. Not the blockbusters, but one of the ones his fans try to sweep under the rug and pretend not to associate with him.

I sighed. Turning on my heel decisively, I set off in the general direction of "different hotel." Equally decisive, the rain poured down harder. After a quick weigh of options -- A. hunch-back panch-clad soggy street drifter; B. risking taxi scam in a hotel hunt; C. A night of undue luxury -- I decided to humble myself and return through the doors of the Excellent Hotel.

In an attempt to preserve my pride, or something, I paused before entering and looked at the bellhop:

"Is there wireless internet in the room?" I asked through inquisitive eyes.
"Certainly sir."
"Sold, I'll take the room."

Once, I heard that travel writers are treated well in these types of establishments, so I tried to slyly drop that bit of (stretched) information at the desk. It did me no good. Instead, I believe the staff took pity on me - the soggy drifter who stumbled in like a wet dog. They likely made a joke or two at my expense in Thai, though the waitress from the bar was kind enough to walk over a cup of cold grape juice while I was signing paperwork. Yeah, grape juice.

After I finished there, I spun towards the elevator - my soaked sneakers squeaking on the expensive floor - and made my way up to the 6th floor shelter that would be my home for the 13 hours to follow.

After a shower, and a bit of lounging, I decided to set off into the city in search for an authentic Thai meal.

But what I found instead... well, that, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

This Adventure runs the route of my mantra "The Journey is the Destination."

My Destination: LUVStock '09 - which is a blog post in and of itself.

My Journey: Discovering the route out of the city and to the base of Dakeng Mountainside for a weekend of music, art, food and friends.

Having vague directions off the Internet, and trusting the promise of signs, I set off on the first of the three buses to approach my stop. First excitement of the ride: I was the only one aboard.

Every now and again, the bus driver will ask you where you are going after you scan your card. I tossed out a couple of words and he told me I was on the wrong bus. I knew that. Really. I showed him the Chinese characters I scribbled down from the Internet -- in hopes that I was writing down an accurate address -- and he said that I would have to switch buses to get to where I wanted to go. I knew that as well.

What I didn't know, however, was which bus I would switch to. This bus was a free bus though. So I wasn't out anything to start. In an effort to raise commuter-count on the public transport system, the Taichung Mayor instated several "free" lines a few months back.

I'm all for it, Mayor Hu. I'll even forgive you for those awful advertisements plastered along the side.

By no means did I expect the bus I was on to be the one to take me as far as I wanted to go. Turns out, though, that this line traveled a lot further along route than I previously expected.

Seeing I was the only one on board, I sat in the Rosa Parks Reserved section and struck up a conversation with the friendly bus driver. A gem in its own weight.

Not uncommonly, he was excited to talk to an "American man" and did speak a fair amount of English, which came in handy when the odd word ventured outside my minuscule vocabulary. He asked me about my family in America and life in Taiwan; joked about "Ah-nold" in California, and spoke kind words of Obama. He asked if I knew of the American School in the city, which was ironic because that school is a Missionary Kid's School, and I was invited to visit just two nights before by my friends running a camp there. Had that not been the case, I'd have never of recognized the Chinese name.

After twenty minutes or so, still no one to join the driver and I, the bus pulled over and my momentary companion drew back the door to let me out. I left the free ride with a good bilingual conversation and a clear sense of where I was going.

Another bus pulled up and a young teenage Taiwanese boy stepped off. Although the seashells in our ears kept us from attempting to converse, we exchanged a few awkward smiles, waves, and glances. I waited about as long as the first leg of my journey before spying my new bus from a perch above the road. Flagging down the driver, I boarded and set off for Dakeng.

Twenty minutes passed again, and I saw the first of the signs: A blue heart, lined with red, and an arrow pointing in a general direction of forward. Unfortunately, it was at the beginning of a roundabout, and the bus decided to change course. Luckily, however, the button had been pushed, and I exited along side a young mother and her daughter. Glancing around, venue and taxis no where in sight, I decided that if there were signs, it must be close, so I set off on foot.


Sign after sign, and no festival insight. By my estimation at the time, I felt nearly 3 km away. If I'm to be honest, I'd say maybe 1.5 to 2km. Decidedly, I changed my pace to a slow jog, not caring that I was in my three year old Rainbow flip flops, or that the humidity had me sweating out of my eyelids and dripping off my chin.

A few more signs and I grew more and more tempted to stick out my thumb. To my relief, I didn't have to. I noticed a vehicle slow to a stop about ten meters ahead of me, and (since I'd switched to walking by this point) I picked up my pace to discover who my fellow traveler could be. Roger, the keyboardist I recognized from 9/10ths of the influential bands who have keyboardists here in Taichung asked if we were headed to the same place and offered me a ride.

By his speculation and mine, we were there within about 500 meters, but I was no less than grateful. I earned my fare by loading half his gear into the venue to ease his setup.

After about two hours, and several modes of transportation, I made it. The trip spared me no sense of adventure and led me to a destination of great community. My day included a global spectrum of music, authentic all-American food (like a burger, marinated in a Vinaigrette, and a pulled pork BBQ sandwich), Dad's Root beer, a dip in the creek, exploring an abandoned amusement park, and fantastic conversation with doubly fantastic new friends.

Even the trip home proved an adventure, as I found a ride with fellow vagabonds headed back to the city after LUVStock simmered and long after the buses retired for the evening.

Energized by the night I enjoyed and encouraged by the ease of my new-found bus route, I trekked up to LUVStock: Day Two at The Refuge- a music and art community I've been plotting to visit for some time. Had I known there was a bus route from literally my door to the welcoming arch of the Refuge, I would have visited a long time ago. But now I know. Traveling there will by no means require a taxi or long strolls through a foreign mountainside town or thumbing towards strangers and hoping for the best.

I was quite satisfied with my decision to return for Day Two, and would attribute it to my new friendships and conversations beckoning me with their love for life in community. Truth be told, though, what really brought me back to the second round of LUVStock wasn't what or who I found at the destination at all: it was the bus driver at the beginning of my journey the day before, willing to break the barrier between foreign passenger and public chauffeur. It was our willingness to look past the awkwardness of bilingual communication, and the time we took to share our travels with the other.

Do not pass up the scenery and opportunities around you in search for wherever it is you're sure you're headed. Know that life happens at every moment, not just at the "big ones." It's after you recognize this that you will begin to experience life more fully.

Because Life is a Journey, friends,
and the Journey is the Destination.

[Photo Credit. Photo 1: The back of a Taichung City Bus. Photo 2: Along the foot path to LUVStock: Day One. A sign to guide me which simply reads "LOVE" ... there's a message here, I'm sure of it.]

Creative Opportunities

In the recent weeks, I've felt like my mind has been ablaze. Suddenly, it seems, I'm realizing how different I'm looking at the world since I landed here in Taiwan just under 9 months ago.
Without a doubt, I know living abroad has irreversibly changed me for the better - even if I can' t yet put to words exactly in what ways. Sometimes I doubt I'll ever be able.

In light of that, I have no option but to agree with the recent findings of two psychologists - as reported by Economist.com. Through their study of business students, the psychologists discovered that living abroad increases ones creative and problem solving abilities.

Now, I'm not claiming time abroad will catapult you into a Picasso or Hemingway - though both creators would wholly agree with the findings. But there is, according to this research, a direct connection to living in a foreign country, and stimulated creativity.

As I begin to plan my return back to the States, I am anxious to see how this new-found creativity will play out in my years. The experience I've gained in my time abroad will undoubtedly affect my entire life. This country, and its people, have inspired me to write and think differently than I ever have before, it's challenged my idea of status quo, and taught me more about my culture than I've learned in all my years living there.

I may not yet know how, exactly, this trip will affect me, but it's weeks like I'm having and articles like this one that only further confirm I made the right decision when I packed a suitcase and stepped onto that plane.

...Now if only I could create a route for the next chapter of my Journey.


(Hat Tip: Vagablogging.net : A terrific blog devoted to all things travel.)

That's a Lotta Buddha

Wat Pho, Temple of the Reclining Buddha
Bangkok, Thailand

Thailand Photo Reel - Koh Samet

Two days is simply not long enough to spend on the small paradise-like island of Koh Samet. White sands demand more attention than a short weekend can provide.

The Island's National Park has plenty for the explorer in you - that is, if you can pull yourself out of the water. Stepping into the wake is like having your mother set your bathwater to just the temperature your baby-bum required.



At night, walk the beach in the dim light of the stars. Stop by to meet fellow vacationers at one of the dozens of restaurant/bars, and you may find an empty lounge cushion on the sand with a view of the nightly beach-side fire show.

Just outside the National Park's beach, on the main drag of Koh Samet, you'll find a small host of restaurants, guest houses, and massage shops - offering authentic Thai massage. (Note: If you're in Thailand, a Thai Massage is a must.)

Now, if you do find yourself on Koh Samet, be sure to stop in at the Red Ginger. Only open a month's time, the Red Ginger is the retirement project of Roger, a Canadian who left the world of broadcasting, and pursued traveling. Of all the places in the world he's been, he's now calling Koh Samet home. I met Roger on the ferry ride to the island, and he immediately invited me to his restaurant and home. We shot the warm island breeze over the entree he selected for me. Undoubtedly, Roger has a place on my list of favorite fellow travelers I found in this Land of Smiles. When you go, try the Chicken in Mushroom Sauce, you won't be disappointed.

After 8 months in urban Taiwan, the cluster and crowd of Bangkok grew stale fast. Koh Samet proved to be my true vacation spot on this trip. Before leaving, I knew I would one day return. The paradise of Samet Island is one that beckons you to sit and stay awhile. And on my next trip, that's just what I'll do.

The Land of Swindlers

If the best part of Thailand is the people I met, than the worst part is the people I encountered.

Thailand is a country of con-artists and swindlers. Before I arrived, I read up on the street scams aimed at travelers. In short, a conman, posed as a friendly face, guides foreigners to a jewelery store or tailor where they are forced (sometimes even threatened) into buying over-priced or worthless merchandise. Constantly, I was forced to turn people down, tell them no, refuse their requests. It came to a point where I trusted no one. If they looked like they had something to sell, or wanted to drive me "wherever I want" (yeah, right), I avoided them like the plague.

Even to a fault. They tended to point the opposite direction from where you're going and say "Oh, such and such is over there" just so that you'd pause and rethink your steps - this allowed them an opportunity to approach you and chat you up "Hey man, where you going? Where you from, my friend?" I learned their methods early on, and began waving them off and plodding along in my path. Well, more than once, they were actually pointing me in the right direction. After choosing not to listen to them, I ended up walking through the "Thai-only" entrance of a temple. Whoops. So much for respecting culture.

Along a Bangkok walkway, minding my own business, a bird lady shoved three baggies of what looked like trail mix between my back and my bag.

"You have, it's good! Thailand" and other broken-English phrases were spat in my direction. I thanked her for the munchies without breaking my pace.

"No! Look!" She grabbed a bag, opened it, and poured it into my hands. Corn kernels? Instantly, my feet were flogged by every Bangkok pigeon in a mile radius.

"Oh, I get it now." Before I could process that single thought, three more bags were poured into my hands. Braver Birds were on my arms and wrists. I tried to walk away. Another bird-lady dumped her corn nut baggy into my open, flat, spread-finger palms. I turned my hands over. I was done.

"one fifty! one fifty!" the first spat harshly. She counted her empty bags, and demanded near $20US. At this point, I was tired of this city's swindlers. I was angry. I matched her harsh tone, and pleaded American ignorance. Begrudgingly, I reached in my pocket and pulled out a few bucks ("fool me once, shame on me...") and dropped them into her hand - pocketing the rest while she grasped for more. I was done. Walking away, I could hear the bird ladies holler and squabble like the pigeons at their feet. That's okay, I wasn't about to turn back.

But that wasn't all. I bartered taxis and knick-knacks. I saw the price for food and drinks change faster than I could turn around. Two times at 7-11, I was over-charged for a Big Gulp because it had Thai Tea in it rather than soda. When I called them out on the price change, the cashier shook their head and insisted on their price.

I don't enjoy bartering. I don't enjoy feeling like I have to swindle a few bucks out of people, or that I can't trust a conversation with anyone.

It's funny how the best thing and the worst thing can be the same thing. It's funny how even though the people I met were the highlight of my trip, it was people who made me reconsider my decision to come to Thailand at all.

In the end, though, I feel like I learned some - about myself, and about culture around me. I've never been great at having to say no to people, but I think I learned how this weekend. The fact is, we can't get away from people in this life - be it con-artists or honest fellow travelers. The ability to tell apart the swindlers from the fellow drifters is a skill worth cultivating when navigating through life.

The Land of Smiles

Sunday, I returned from Thailand. It was an incredible trip, I'm already planning my return. I feel as though the purpose of this visit was simply to inform me of all that I have yet to see.

I would love to pack my new backpack and set off for a month or more. There's so much to see, so much to do, and so many amazing people to meet.


On a bus ride, I met a girl from Quebec who has been backpacking alone for 3 months, simply because she yearned for adventure before entering University. Camille and I talked for hours, got off the bus, shopped, ate dinner, and talked more. Her trip came to an end today. Knowing this, I spent much time quizzing her on her experience and lessons learned and favorite moments. She spoke of trekking through Vietnam and Laos and Thailand; river rafting, bus trips, and hill tribes; temples, water fights and friendly faces; and most of all the confidence a journey like this brings. Before she finished speaking, I knew I would return to this region.


After a night in Bangkok, I was ready to leave the smoggy congestion of Urban Metropolis, and found myself on a bus trip to a small island called Koh Samet. Yet to be flogged by foreign tourists, Koh Samet is not more than a National Park situated on a quiet island.

The bus ride down proved to be another great meeting place for fellow travelers. Sitting next to me were a brother and sister from South Korea - whom I later met up with when back in Bangkok. The rest of the mini-bus was filled by two young ladies from London, a German fellow - who has been traveling in Asia for months - and two South Africans now teaching in Bangkok. That group bonded quickly, and I stumbled upon their beach bash and spent my second evening away from the city with my new global comrads.


While out with a group of local Thai, I met a young girl, a street vendor named Lookrnam. She was incredibly cute. She sold packages of gum. Though I don't chew gum, I bought several. She sold roses. I bought a few of those, too, and distributed each to my new Thai friend Oum - it was her birthday - and her friends. Every night, Lookrnom hits the congested, touristy streets of Bangkok to sell her knick-knacks. Despite her situation, she wore a bright smile that lightened the dark midnight streets. Thailand is dubbed "The Land of Smiles" and no one embodied this to me more than Lookrnam. After 20 minutes of losing at Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lookrnam stretched my hand out and tied on a braided string bracelet. She told me she wanted me to remember her. Having nothing to give in return, I pulled out my journal, tore out a sheet, and wrote her a note. Though her spoken English is more than adequate, Oum translated the written text to Thai. Lookrnam hugged me and thanked me with her signature smile.

One last chance encounter, and the highlight of the trip: With a little planning and strategic schedule shuffling, I was able to see my dear Floridian friend, Cathy. Around the time I moved out of the State, and back to California, she moved to South Korea to teach English. Since my arrival to South East Asia, we've been tentatively scheming a plan to get together. But a few months ago, she up'd and moved to Thailand. This worked perfectly for our scheming and we enjoyed a great breakfast on two stools at a stand on a street corner. Cathy's perspective on Thai food is "The crappier the place looks, the better the food is." When we selected where we'd eat, the only comment I could muster was "I bet the food's fantastic."

Due to an early flight, our time together was brief. (And due to the fact that I forgot my watch was set an hour earlier to Taipei time, our visit was even briefer.) But it was a treat to see her, nonetheless.

The next few posts will be further expansion on my trip. But, as you know with me, people come first. This trip was too short. Thailand is a beautiful country, with too much to see and do. But by far, what I enjoy most about traveling is the people you meet along the way. They inspire and reaffirm you in your journey - just by watching them in theirs. Whether your time together is a bus ride covering a vast expanse of land or breakfast on the corner; whether you divulge in the adventures of life, or simply share a smile, their presense in your journey is invaluable.

Leaving on a Jet Plane or Vacation Location or "Oh, you're American, aren't you?"

After much debate on my Vacation Location, I have finally decided. Tomorrow, I'll be hopping on a plane to Thailand. The riots have subsided, and so as long as I don't bring a bright yellow t-shirt or let my red boxers show a bit too much, I should be fine. I'll be spending some time at the beach, too, while I'm there. Looking forward to the opportunity to stretch my legs off the island for a bit. Updates, stories, pictures, and possibly video upon my return to Taiwan.





PS: To those (Americans) wondering, no Taiwan and Thailand are not the same thing.
And people wonder why we ex-pats need to write blog entries like this one. Let's just say I've shared some of Reannon's discomfort in being overly simplified and patronized as a poor dumb American. Working on fixing that.


*Picture: California Coastline on my flight to Taiwan 09/08

Photo of the Day

Kaohsiung, Taiwan

Adventures Abroad

It hit me recently that I haven't written about Hong Kong.

That's mostly because there isn't too much to say. I needed to stretch my legs a bit, so I took an overnight trip off the island. Hong Kong is a beautiful metropolitan city, and a thriving young professional's paradise. (you can see them strut the streets in their Louis Vuitton Prada and Gucci.



I spent most my day through the halls of the malls, and strolling the street markets and pausing along the boardwalk that lines the harbor. It was a great trip, almost two months ago now.






That said, I hope to visit a few more countries while stationed in this corner of the world. I consider my fellow drifters (yep, any of you reading this) to be a well traveled, diverse group. So I'm looking for your input.

Any thoughts on what countries I should visit? Unfortunately Europe, Russia, and the States are probably out of the question. . .(sorry guys) but how about East Asia?

Let me know what you think!