Khao San Road at Night

Amy and I hit the street late one night in search of a party. We found a seedy underbelly of Khao San Road. Searching for a bar that wasn’t inundated with prostitutes and men seeking prostitutes, we found ourselves one street off of Khao San Road. It was amazing the contrast between the two streets. Khao San is swarming with tourists, drunkness, debauchery, and tourist prices. The next street over was blanketed by homeless families sleeping on the pavement. We stopped at a little stand where a woman was brewing coffee. She gave Amy a small cup and added just about a million different types of carnation canned milk. We couldn’t figure it out. Amy asked her how to say thank you in Thai. The woman looked at us like we were mad. We walked back to Khao San Road. The night felt young, but we still hadn’t found our party. We just stood on the street for a minute letting Thailand pass us by.

It was an interesting spectacle watching the people of the night. Prostitutes were on the prowl for foreign customers. Girls or maybe lady boys were approaching mostly older white men, following them just far enough to be sure they weren’t biting the bait. Then they would return to their original position outside of the bar, with the hook out waiting for another fish to stumble out into the drunkenness of the night.

Amy and I watched these interactions, trying to guess if the night-walkers were females or she-males. Two prostitutes finally wound their arms around two young blond boys. They were with a group of friends, all under 18 I imagine. I wondered if the boys would go through with the deal, if they knew the deal they were getting themselves into. God you can get into trouble in Thailand, I thought. Did these kids’ parents know where they were?

A self-proclaimed Japanese man approached me. Looking back he might have thought I was a prostitute too, just standing in the street watching the world go by.

He didn’t look Japanese at all. I gave him my Japanese alias “Mirataki.” He tried speaking Japanese to me. I told him he was full of crap. He tried to coax me into a bar with him. I refused. He walked away looking very angry.

Dengue Fever in Chiang Mai, Thailand

I know there was a large gap in time that I was not writing on the blog and I hope you all were very worried about me ;).

Last Thursday night I came down with a very high fever. I rolled around in bed all night sweating and shivering and moaning. Friday I had an advising meeting, so I woke up early and rushed over to see my advisor. I told him about my fever, and that my head was just too sick to talk about academics.

I returned to my room with the intention of sleeping away my illness. The fever continued to climb all day long, and I started getting really bad pains in my kidneys and legs. When I was in Guatemala last April I had suffered a similar illness. I thought maybe I had problems with my kidneys. Maybe I was drinking to much coffee. Maybe I was really dehydrated. Maybe I had a kidney infection.

However, I was a little worried about my situation because my roommate had gotten dengue the week before. I was stubbornly determined that I did not have dengue. I am afraid of hospitals and did not want to spend days lying away dying.

Friday evening I took 2 I.B. Profen to bring down the fever. I felt ok for a couple of hours, but by Saturday morning I could tell I was getting worse, not better. Two of my friends coaxed me into going to the hospital to get checked out. The man who runs our hotel graciously gave me a ride over to the Chiang Mai Ram Hospital.

(Sick in the Hospital with Dengue)

I filled out some paperwork and then waited…and waited…and waited. Finally a nurse took me into a small room, took my temperature and blood pressure, weighed me, and asked a few questions. The doctor repeated this procedure. Then I was shuttled over to get blood drawn and pee in a cup. And before I could protest the nurses were shoving me into a wheel chair and admitting me into the hospital as a patient. I was not happy, but my high fever rendered me unable to protest.

There isn’t really a treatment to cure Dengue Fever, so the most they can do it treat the symptoms. I was hooked up to an I.V. to keep me hydrated. I guess hydration is the most important factor in surviving Dengue. Throughout the day they loaded me up with antibiotics, fever reducers, and stomach ulcer medication (I don’t really know why the stomach ulcer medication was necessary).

And so I thought I was going to die in a hospital bed from brain hemorrhages. I had a pounding headache behind my eyes and my entire body felt like it was being smashed underneath a steam roller. All I could do was lie there, aching and watching old Tom and Jerry cartoons.

I spent four days in this state. The hardest part about it was that I was incapable of doing anything. I hate being incapacitated, and worried about finishing my schoolwork and readings for my coming classes. I was sad that I was missing the field trip to the mountains and a Buddhist meditation retreat.

On the fifth day my fever had broken and I needed to get out of the hospital. My blood platelet count was at an all time low and the doctors recommended that I stay for a few more days. I couldn’t do that. I called in a nurse and begged her to take the I.V. out of my hand. The hospital finally realized that I was leaving, whether they liked it or not.

I have been out of the hospital for about a week now. I still do not feel totally well. My head is still rather fuzzy and I have developed a ringing in my ears. I do not have body aches anymore, but I feel weak, and get exhausted easily. I know that sometimes Dengue Fever cause hemorrhages in the brain, which causes brain damage. I am hoping my dizziness and hearing problems aren’t from brain damage. That’s all I need.

I always had the feeling that I would get Dengue one day. It is like playing Russian Roulette every time I get bit by a mosquito. I am always that person who has 50 mosquito bites, and no one else is bitten. Mosquitoes are harbingers of imminent doom.

Travel to 20 Countries

The other day looking through my passport I started counting the countries I have visited. I realized I have been to 20, excluding my home country. The Bahamas, Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Ecuador, Morocco, Gibraltar, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, the Vatican (politically this is a country, although this feels like cheating to count), the UK, India, China, Taiwan, and now Thailand.

(Me with my beloved passport)

Most of these countries I have visited in the past 3 years. How have I moved through the world so fast? I hope it is worth it. I hope I will remember all of my stories.

I have gotten to a point where I don’t know how to place myself anymore. A few weeks ago Andy from hobotraveler.com wrote that I am going over the edge of no return. I am wondering if I really am too far gone and what does that mean? Am I now not normal? It is true I am not doing what most people my age in my country are doing, but would I rather be doing what they are doing? They all seem miserable, confused, jaded and bored. They have crappy jobs, hate school, drink too much, hate their parents, hate the world. I wouldn’t want to be any of those things in a million years. Somehow my parents instilled me with a reverence for the eccentric. Am I well on my way there? Are my travels a journey through the world or through myself? Here’s to becoming an eccentric.

Eating Bugs in Thailand

So somehow I developed a dream to eat big bugs in Thailand. I think I saw it on a travel program or something and have wanted to try it ever since. The other night after dinner a few friends and I bought 2 large bottles of Chang beer and 3 plastic bags full of different types of bugs; one of grub looking things, one of fat crickets, and one of locusts. The bugs were sold a street vendor on Khao San Road. She drenched the fried insects in soy sauce and sprinkled them with salt. We returned to our guest house, cracked our beers and spread our snacks on the table.

We each grabbed a huge locust from the bag, said cheers across the table and popped them into our mouths. I crunched into the savory little bugger, trying not to gag on the legs touching the back of my throat. I chewed through the exoskeleton and washed it down with a swig of beer.

(Eating Bugs with friends Brittany and Adam in Thailand)

The locusts weren’t half bad. Once you got over the fact that the bug was still intact with face, organs and legs, they seemed like a tasty bar snack. The grub things were a little harder to stomach. I kept calling them “butt worms.” They reminded me of maggots or intestinal worms too much. This summer I had dug up grubs like this doing archaeology. I remembered squishing them in my screen and thinking they looked like alien babies. The crickets were ok, but not as tasty as the locusts. In all, the bag of locusts was almost entirely devoured throughout the night, but the grubs lay mostly untouched. It was an interesting experience. Now I don’t have to try them again, haha.

Bangkok Experience in a Nut Shell

Bangkok is a weird place, hippies, loud techno music or Bob Marley, hippie clothes, way too many backpackers, getting dreads on the street, tattoo parlors, guys picking up girls, girls picking up guys, no bars without prostitutes, pad Thai noodles, rickshaw drivers popping their mouths about ping-pong shows, huge bowls of fruit and yoghurt, cute white guys, cute Thai guys, seedy back alleys, half-Chinese half-Thai food with raw eggs, new language, street people one block off the beaten path, Pakistani pick-up lines, book stores, spice, bride shops, huge bottles of beer, new love (potentially though scary and a little too soon), old friends, frustration, compromises, rolled cigarettes, millions of 7-11’s, minty sniffers, rain and slippery sidewalks, nice women, mean women, nightlife, lady boys, distraction, excitement, Buddhist wats, prostrations to a golden Buddha, jasmine, orchids, marigolds, and lotus, incense, trying to light a candle in the wind, a “father figure,” eating bugs, missing home, still healing, Voldemort, dance parties to 90’s pop music, zombies, eating brains, sensuality.

Travel to Thailand

Thailand Thailand Thailand. I am no longer in Taiwan, at all. I still have so much I want to write about Taiwan, but I feel like after just one week in Thailand I have completely forgotten Taiwan. I really loved Taiwan. It was a very livable place, good people, good food, good life. But in a way I am really happy to be away from Taiwan. I needed a change of scenery. I am happy to be out of my dungeon in Sinjuang. That room was driving me so crazy that I was starting to feel trapped. Life seemed inaccessible sitting at my desk in the dark corner next to my dark, sunless window open only to a loud mechanical noise and a musty mildew smell.

I went through a really hard time in Taiwan. I lost a lover, lost a friend, got really bored, got confused, cried, starved, spent too many hours lying awake in the sleepless dark. Thailand has given me a chance to move on. I don’t have to think about all my bad feelings anymore. The newness of the country has made me forget the oldness of my life.

After only one week in Thailand I am in love with the country. Each country always has a different feel, a different sensation of potential. Some places are calm, lonely, places where you just want to lock yourself in a room and study, some are romantic, some are boring, some are fun. Thailand is fun. Thai people are fun. I was really surprised when I came to Thailand. I was expecting it to be a little uncomfortable, to face the word “farang” countless times, to be ripped off, to be lonely, to hate all the hippie pot-smoking tourists with backpacks. I am finding it a lot better than expected. Thai people are just generally cool, almost in the sense of the American cool. I have already met tons of young Thai people who just hang out, play guitar on the street, artists, coolly dressed, cool hair, cool everything. It’s happening in Thailand.