Death and Life in Southeast Asia

I'm sitting in the airport in Bangkok waiting out my final hours in Asia. It's been four months since I arrived here, it feels like eons ago. Africa feels like a previous life and my life prior to leaving feels like a dream my mother had before I was ever conceived.

As I've traveled, airports have become almost sacrosanct to me, places for soul transition. They're like a changing room for your spirit. I walked into the Johannesburg airport and started reflecting upon what I had seen and done and who I had become over the past months. And on the plane to India I began to dream about and prepare for what was to come. It was as if I shed the old tattered rich tapestry of clothing I wove for myself through Africa, and spent the next hours naked with myself and truth. And when the plane landed, I was in a new strange place, a clean slate, alone again. It's like a rebirth. It will be a few hours until I am reborn again in Australia.

The Bangkok airport is serving it's duty to me today as I reflect upon Asia and dream about Australia. However, 3 weeks ago this place was the source of aggravation and a major shaping force of the design of my Thailand experience. It was 3 weeks ago that thousands of protesters stormed the airport, shutting it down until the government in power was dissolved. I was in Chiang Mai when I heard the news. "This isn't good, Rae is due in two days from now, I don't think she'll be able to make it."

I decided to head for Bangkok anyway in hopes that the protest ended in time. Halfway through the 12-hour overnight bus trip, my cellphone rang. It was Rae and she told me she had been re-routed to Phuket. The bus rolled into Bangkok at 6:00 am and I immediately ran to the first travel agency to purchase the next ticket to Phuket. Unlucky for me, the route takes 16 hours and runs overnight too.

At 1:00 PM the following day I arrived in Phuket having slept 4 of the past 48 hours. The bus dropped me off in the middle of nowhere along the highway. So I hitched a ride on the back of some old Thai guy's motorcycle and arrived at the airport a few minutes later. Rae landed at 3:00 and we took a taxi to the first arbitrary beach town we could find.

I'd love to give you a vivid account of what happened next, but you'd probably be more entertained reading your shampoo bottle. Basically we sat in an ugly, concrete, spartan guest house room for 3 days and talked and caught up. Oh, and I slept. We only ventured out to eat, but that was OK, I didn't really care for Phuket. In my view, the place is a soulless carnival of philistines that makes spring break in Daytona Beach look like Kennebunkport. It was decided that we should not waste any more of Rae's precious limited time sitting in what we affectionately named "The Post Soviet era Eastern-bloc hotel room for sleeping in". We headed for the islands of Koh Penang and Koh Samui where we met up with her cousin Travis and his wife Kelly. During this time, I popped back into vacation mode following my friends along on their trip. We did the typical "Hey I'm on a tropical island" crap. See the pictures?

Oohhhhh

Aahhhhh

Oooooooo

And after 2 weeks, my Thai visa had expired and Rae, Travis and Kelly had to return to Minnesota. They took one plane and I took another, to Cambodia.

It was a short flight to the capital city of Phnom Penh. The view from the taxi portrayed a bustling 3rd world city with a positive spirit. It was a Sunday afternoon and the miles of parks that flanked the main road were full of families picnicking and playing badminton (I thought it was oddly amusing, hundreds of people playing badminton? Those wacky Cambodians!).

I walked into a guest house that evening and as I checked in I met my new travel companions, Dave and Saskia, yet another Irish couple. The next morning we met up with their friends and headed out to see Phnom Penh.

It has been 30 years since the fall of Pol Pot's cruel and barbarous Khmer Rouge regime, a totalitarian communist revolution that practically destroyed and murdered the city and the entire country of Cambodia. Just a few months before I was born the Khmer Rouge sacked and evacuated Phnom Pehn sending many to their deaths.

Pol Pot was a sociopath who had a total disregard for human life and a merciless malevolence. His goal was to turn Cambodia into an isolated totalitarian state and he utilized the coldest and most vicious tactics to achieve his ends. The Khmer Rouge committed a genocide that took 1.3 million of their own people's lives in just 3 years.

We rented a tuk-tuk, or motorized rickshaw for the day. Our first stop was Choeung Ek, aka The Killing Fields. The place was beautiful, desolate and quiet. A green pasture spotted with grand trees. And the day was equally gorgeous; 80 degrees, a slight breeze and the sky above was a brilliant blue with fluffy white clouds. The only sounds heard were those of a bird's chirping and the drolling of a bulldozer somewhere off in the distance. At the entrance to Choeung Ek stood a beautiful ornate Buddhist stupa 60 feet tall.

As I walked up the steps I removed my hat as the sign requested and as I looked ahead I felt as if I got hit by a truck. Everything turned sour that moment as I stared forward at a 5-story high glass tower filled with the thousands of skulls of the innocent men, women and children that the Khmer Rouge sent to their deaths.

Upon re-examining the bucolic setting, I realized that the symmetrical rows of large divots that resembled a big grassy ice cube tray were in fact the remnants of exhumed mass graves.

This place was a processing plant where Pol Pot's regime disposed of anyone who posed a threat to his vision; doctors, monks, educated people, those who asked questions.

As we made our way through the Killing Fields it got more somber, more chilling. I snapped a picture of this sign.

Suddenly overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger, shock and rage started welling up inside of me. Luckily I was wearing my sunglasses. As the grandchild of Holocaust survivors, I have met many older people who lived through a similar hell during the Nazi regime in Europe. They have numbers tattooed on their forearms, they tell stories that they can only get half way through until they start sobbing uncontrollably. But it wasn't until now, that I had this sort of a visceral gut reaction or this level of understanding of what genocide meant. I can think of no greater evil. After an hour of walking quietly through the memorial, we got back in the tuk tuk and barely a word was spoken.

Next stop S-21, Pol Pot's top level security prison. This converted high school was used as a torture chamber to beat and force confessions out of the enemies of the Khmer Rouge before they were sent to the Killing Fields for extermination.

I can't believe that this happened and so few people know about it, myself included. In my view this is not some abstract piece of history, it happened while I was here. I remember what I was doing while this was happening. I was learning how to tie my shoelaces and voting for Jimmy Carter in the Kindergarten class election while my Cambodian counterparts were being forcefully removed from their families and tied to trees and beaten to death. And for what?

For the rest of my time in Cambodia I couldn't look at anyone over 30 with out feeling sorrow and empathy. When I looked at the young I felt hopeful and wished that the resilience that had brought their society from near extermination to playing badminton in the park would carry forward as they continue to build a happier and more prosperous future for themselves.

A few days later the Irish and I headed up to Siem Reap, home of the Angkor Wat temple complex. This place was truly amazing. Built in the 12th century, this city of ornately carved sandstone structures stretches 30 square kilometers and represents an amazing feat of engineering.

Even if the ancients who built it had access to modern technology the place would still floor you upon seeing it.

We spent the day exploring Angkor Wat and the next day exploring Siem Reap. We sampled the national beer and browsed the local market, which looked like the set of the TV show fear factor complete with a bowl of fried tarantulas

and fried grasshoppers

We met some locals and I even got myself a Cambodian girl friend. Her name is Kimberly and she is 14 years old. After telling me how handsome I was and learning that I was single, she asked if I'd be her boyfriend. Oh what a magical moment. "Yes! Yes!" I exclaimed as dreams of our future together filled my imagination. Then she asked me that damn question I never want to hear again.
"You want to buy some pineapple?"
"No", I said.
And then she dumped me. For43 seconds I was in a blissful relationship with my underage Cambodian girlfriend. But it turns out she was only a pineapple prostitute offering her love, devotion and fruit to the highest bidder. Oh well easy come easy go. Oh yeah, I can only imagine that it won't be pineapple she'll be trying to sell to men in 5 years from now. Sad but true.

After a week in Cambodia I ventured back to Thailand and caught a boat to the island of Koh Chang to visit Jay. Remember Jay, the British guy who lived in New Jersey that I drank beer with for a week on the banks of the Mekong? In Laos? (See post Goin' with the flow). Well back in Laos he invited me to spend Christmas with him, so I figured I'd take him up on the offer.

I spent the week living the life of an ex-pat, rather than that of the transient I had been living. I stayed with Jay, hung out with his friends and finally got some scuba diving in. While it couldn't compare with the reefs off Sipidan in Borneo, the views above the water were spectacular.

Hey, it beats sitting behind a desk and staring into a monitor any day, which will be coming soon.

I spent 6 weeks in Thailand and Cambodia and a total of 2 months in Southeast Asia. I've had some amazing experiences like tubing in Laos, meeting HER, making and reaquainting with friends from all over the world, seeing the breath taking beauty of nature and singing a duet with a guitar playing transvestite clown with dreadlocks in the middle of the busiest street in Bangkok.


My mother asked me how drunk I was when I did this.
My reply, "30 minutes before my first beer." Yup, that's me.
Oh and thanks to Rae for the excellent videography and editing.

I've also had some crummy experiences like being ripped off and swindled by corrupt border guards. And I've met some of the shadiest people on the planet like Sex-pats, or nasty old guys walking the street with a teenage Thai prostitute on their arm. I've met people who should be in jail and would be if they ever returned home; Drug king-pins, mercenaries, hit-men, thieves, pimps, all sorts of crooks.

As I leave Asia I continue to process all that I have experienced, As I sit here finishing this entry, here in the airport, I am starting to prepare myself for my Australian rebirth.

Her

It was early evening and Trevor boarded a bus to Bangkok. As the bus rode off he made the transition from travel friend to facebook friend and for the first time since I left Kuala Lumpur I was alone with myself. Feeling a bit lonely and bored I thought, "Hmm...What does the universe have in store for me next?"

The small but developed city of Chiang Rai was awakening from a mid-afternoon nap. Vendors were setting up their stalls in the night market and as the sun faded away strings of festive lights snapped on, one at a time. The streets slowly filled with people and the aroma of Thai street cooking wafted through the air as the first of the local performers took the stage at the center of the market. First the slow rhythmic tapping of a traditional drum, then the whining of a familiar sounding oriental stringed instrument, and lastly a high-pitched tonal voice sang the setting of a festive night market into wholeness.

I browsed the stalls aimlessly breathing it all in. Perhaps I'd replace that ratty red Ohm T-shirt I picked up in Jaipur or find a new pair of matching earrings. After an hour of strolling the market my stomach started growling so I headed to the food stalls for a cheap and authentic meal. The scene reminded me of a flea market, a vast sea of plastic tables and chairs flanked on two sides by food stalls and the stage on another. I walked the perimeter examining the food in an attempt to identify what they were cooking up. All signage was in Thai.

"Pad Thai Chicken", I said to the woman behind the counter. I turned to my right and caught my first glimpse of HER in the distance. Six feet tall, slender and wearing a bright red shirt she commanded my attention from afar. A few seconds later I realized that my glimpse had turned into a full-on stare. She was really pretty, and she was heading my way. In a few seconds she was in front of me, surrounded by what must have been some sort of force field because as she approached time distorted, seconds lasted hours. Our eyes met as we passed and I felt a surge blast through my chest. I fought with all I had not to break my gaze and look away, digging deep I pulled out a smile. And as the plane of my shoulder broke that of her's, she smiled back. Warm electricity coursed through my veins as time resumed its normal flow. I was on a high, smitten. She took a seat at an empty table to enjoy her dinner. I had to go talk to her.

My fellow guy travelers will testify that anytime you meet a solo female traveler, within seconds you meet her boyfriend. A rule of thumb seems to dictate that the hotter she is, the bigger the douche bag her boyfriend is, making it that much harder to take.

"Oh come on! You've got to be kidding me! Seriously, you're with Dreadlocked White Guy??? Honey, what are you doing? Don't you know that white guys with dreadlocks occupy the highest rung on the douche bag ladder? A solid 3 spots above guy who wears blue tooth ear piece 24-7."

I know what you're thinking, Fox, you are "33 year old guy with ears pierced". Maybe so, but that doesn't begin to approach the level of douche baggery of having dreadlocks.

So I scanned the crowd for DB-BF candidates. We're all clear, she is alone. So with Pad Thai Chicken in hand I headed in her direction to take a seat at an adjacent table. As I got close her force field took it's hold on me again, my nerves started in, butterflies in my stomach, my internal commentator started speaking to me; "Think of something witty to say. How do you know if she speaks English? Don't be stupid. Bring your A-game!"

"SHUT UP!!!!!"

I sat down beside her and conversation unfolded with ease. We talked for hours over dinner, then over coffee, and more as we strolled the night market. And there it was. The command of my wit, the unabashed confidence, the silver tongue...the A-game. The dialogue couldn't have been written better. As we spoke, she looked deep into my eyes and smiled and laughed. It was more than apparent that she liked me too. Now, usually this is where the logical mind breaks down and that object of Bhutanese adoration takes over and starts calling the shots, typically leading to disastrous results. (Don't get it? Reference post:Res-Erection Part 1) But I kept cool knowing damn well where this was heading.

"Let's go for cocktails!", she said in her Dutch accent.

I gave no argument as we headed to a sidewalk cafe for a carafe of white wine. She told me that she really wanted to go on a 2-day trek into the local hill tribe villages, but the guides wouldn't go unless one more person signed up.

Now folks, I've done the jungle trekking thing and I am over it. But, here is where that object of Bhutanese adoration made the call. "I'd love to go trekking", I replied.

(Good job, you made a great decision this time!..but there is no way you are picking our next dentist, I'll let Mouth make that call.)

We planned to head out the next morning and then ordered another carafe of wine, then another until the evening transitioned into tomorrow.

Now I was raised by a good mother who instilled a good sense of chivalry in me. What gentleman would let a lady walk for 10 minutes to her guest house alone? At 1:00 in the morning? In the dark?

Her: "I'm going to get a taxi back."
Me: "You won't find one at this hour. I'd be happy to walk you back."
Her: "OK" with a smile

My Internal Dialogue: "WOO-HOO!!!!"

Her guest house was just outside of the city on the river banks. As the road transitioned from sealed pavement to dirt, the street lights faded into the distance. I stopped to look up. The view was magnificent, every star in existence was out on this clear moonless night. On the horizon I saw the bright red glow of a traditional Thai paper balloon lantern hanging in the distant sky. I pointed up at it and she stepped to my side to follow my finger in hopes to see it too. That was the last thing I would see as what entered my field of vision next was the complete blackness of the inside of my eye lids. Next, I felt the warm electric current enter my body through my lips and emanate through every fiber of my body as we stood on the bank of the river under the stars.

Yada yada yada...The next day we headed out for the hill tribes. A short boat ride up the river delivered us to an Akha village where we would start our 2-day walk through the unbridled pristine hills of Northern Thailand.

After a 45-minute elephant ride we hopped off and thanked our pachyderm friend with treats of bananas and sugar cane, then headed off to play ping-pong with the Akha children. Following a traditional lunch we set off through the dense jungles, pastoral rice paddies,

and secluded babbling water falls.

As the sun retreated over the horizon we came to the Lahow village we would sleep at that evening.

The Lahow live like there ancestors have for eons. With exception of solar panels to light the bulb in each hut and motorbikes to bring the rice harvest up the mountain side, I could have easily confused it for 1808.

Our house for the night was a hut like those pictured above. As our guide went to work on dinner we walked through the village greeting the people and their animals (I now have a blind hatred for roosters... crack of dawn my ass!!! These things never stop!).

After dinner I slipped off for a moment and returned with a bottle of white wine I bought when she wasn't looking (Damn I'm smooth!). We shared the wine and conversation under the great expanse of the gorgeous night sky, looking over the distant lights of Chiang Rai in the valleys below.

Yada yada yada... The following day we headed deeper into the hills, stopping at another Akha village for lunch before heading through the tea plantations of an ethnic Chinese village.

By 4:00 we reached our final stop, the natural hot springs. And after an hour long soak we met a truck and caught a ride back to Chiang Rai.

We spent one more evening together before I said goodbye to her. I had to catch a bus to the laid-back, hippie art community of Pai on the Burmese border, and she had to catch that proverbial bus to oblivion. As quickly as it started, it was over.

I spent the next 4 days in the sleepy town of Pai (hmm...Pai......) replaying moments in my mind and missing her. Then I headed to Chiang Mai; to meet up with some friends I made in Laos and Africa, and to bide my time for a week before Rae, Travis and Kelly arrived.

When I got to Chiang Mai I learned that there was civil unrest in Thailand and it looked like a military coup was imminent. As the news showed images of thousands of protesters shutting down the airport in Bangkok, I questioned whether my friends would be able to get in. I exhaled and took another sip of my coffee, then looked to the street dog beside me and said to her,"Hmm...What does the universe have in store for me next?"