First Look - Thailand

I have been in Thailand for over a week now (Chiang Mai only), and this story has already been minimalized in my mind by other experiences over the last few days but I thought it was an interesting night and will tell you about it anyways.

My flights from Berlin to Bangkok and Bangkok to Chiang Mai went fine overall. I forgot to mention an old German man dropped a 25 lb carry-on on the top of my head. I was sitting there looking straight ahead zoning out when I heard a woman scream. The next thing I know I feel a cut on the top of my head and it feels like my neck is being pushed into my chest. It wasn't a glancing blow, it was a direct hit. I just wanted peace and quiet so when everyone freaked out I told them it wasn't a problem and not to make a big deal about it, although I was a little afraid to fall asleep in case I had a concussion.

The second night in Chiang Mai I started craving some food at 8:30pm. The great thing about Thailand is that there are tons of street vendors outside almost all the time, no dirty dishes and time spent in a kitchen here, only sifting through traffic and crowds on the street to find what smells good.

Diagonally parked mopeds line the streets and a constant stream of traffic in both directions provides much of the light for the crowds.

At this point I really have no idea what my options are. My Thai is completely non-existent and I need to walk around and take a look at what these guys are cooking up before I begin to decide what I want.

Both sides of the street are lined with vendors and small plastic chairs. I am navigating through a slightly denser crowd, walking on the edge of the sidewalk and the road when I hear a tire squeal. Ah, here we go again.

This time I didn't have to turn to see people flying in the air, all I had to do was look up a little. A moped was backing out of the diagonal parking when it cut off another moped that was coming down the street. I'm not sure which moped was carrying two people, but three people were thrown to the ground.

The strangest thing I noticed was that everyone was completely silent.
After the squeal, crunch, thud there was nothing. Well that's not completely true, the moped's hot engines/mufflers were making slight hissing and ticking noises.
When they fell down none of them moved or groaned, and no one made a move to check on them and do damage control. I looked at the crowd of people on the sidewalk, then the people in the street, then back at the sidewalk. By now one man made a move towards the heap in the road. I set down my plastic bag with yogurt and water from a nearby 7-11 (they are everywhere) and joined him. Two of the people in the street had these hissing/ticking hot mopeds on top of them. We gently pulled the mopeds off and collected their sandals (the furthest one went only 10 feet, they don't have the weight to carry momentum like shoes). I look back towards the sidewalk, I see 80+ people frozen mid-stride, traffic both ways has come to a halt. Still silent.

One guy is still laying on his back in the road, I spot him slowly slipping his hand into his pocket. He delicately pulls out an Apple iPhone and checks the screen for cracks, taps it and begins to send a text message-- still in the position he landed-- still in the road. It seems like a good time to make an exit so I silently walk away, I'm almost across the street when I spot a nice calculator. Aw, I would have guessed these were all college kids. I picked it back up and gave it to one of the students in the crash that had a backpack and some text books under their arm, either I guessed the right owner or they decided to take the "free" calculator.

Earlier I was checking for pictures on the signs hanging above each little restaurant when some of the workers started talking to me. I gave them the typical "I'm just looking, I'll come back in a little bit" bullshit hand motion with no intent of eating there. Before the moped crash I had scoped out most of the places, so I decide to go back to that place as it was on the way back to my room. I guess I'm not a liar after all.

At this point I'm starving and tired of looking at restaurants. I say something like, "Hello, I'm not sure what I want but some chicken and noodles would be great" to the three people cooking in the front of the "restaurant". The two younger guys look towards to older woman, she says, "cheek-en and rye?" (chicken and rice?). Me: "Yes!" Older Lady: *Motions for me to sit down.

I see her shout at a worker across the crowded table section in the other kitchen (there are two areas, both in front on either side of the entrance), he nods, looks at me, looks back and her, nods again, and turns around.

I sit down on a wooden stool at the first open spot I find. I start to take in my surroundings and realize I'm the only Westerner in the packed restaurant (it has a tent you would see as a carnival for the majority of its roof, so "restaurant"). A beefy Thai guy who looks like a muay Thai boxer looks at me and then takes the open seat to my left. At first he sat a few tables away, but moved to my table after a few minutes. Was he tempted to try some English on me? Did he think I was into muay thai too because of my size? We'll never know because I didn't say anything to him, and he never said anything to me. I was too tired and hungry to be Mr. Social.

A plate with chicken, rice, and greens ends up on the table in front of me, and man is it good. Now I have no idea how much this thing costs, I have a few baht in my hand when the server tells me an amount almost half of what I was predicting on paying.

I leave a tip (uncommon here) and try to say thank you to my new mother figure as I walk towards the front (which is also the entrance and exit). A guy that looks to be her son (around 20) gets brave enough to say "have a good night" in English, she isn't about to be outdone and says semi-brokenly, "hope to see you again".

She did.

The Spiral / Mother's Day

The first time L killed someone it was on accident. She intended only to put fear (I don't know why) into this girl by surprising her with the barrel of a revolver pressed to her temple. In all the excitement a finger found a trigger and split this girls head open.

Dutch compares the life of L to the main girl in "Rosario Tijeras", I just watched the movie a few days ago and it is surprisingly close. L's older brother bled out on the street from bullet wounds right in front of her at a fairly young age, which was a contributing factor to L's future violent actions. After she accidentally wasted that girl, she started to freak the fuck out and got involved with her Uncle's antics. L's mother recently told me this Uncle used to cut the feet off of live cows for fun, this guy is not a good influence on anyone.

It's midnight the day before Mother's Day and I receive a text from Dutch saying, "B, you're coming tomorrow".
I already knew he was going to L's sister's apartment for a family get-together, but I had no intentions of inviting myself or coming with.
"But.. I don't want to crash your thing with her family."
"I knew you would be like this, that's why I told you were coming, I didn't ask."
It was final.

I didn't even consider to ask where this family hangout was taking place until we had been in the cab for 20 minutes. I forgot the name of the barrio 30 seconds after they told me, but it was in the North of Medellin, a fair ways up the valley wall.
(In Medellin, a basic rule of thumb is the further south you go, the safer the neighborhoods are. The north consists of barrios resembling the shanty-like buildings you see in pictures of Rio de Janeiro. Another generalization of safety here is the higher you go up the mountain the shittier the neighborhoods get, of course there are a lot of exceptions, but it's generally correct.)

We walk up their steps, through their front door, and there are a bunch of faces I have never seen before.
"Aqui", the apparent man of the house (everyone is dressed up and he's in his boxers, nothing else) says to me and puts a cold
beer in my hand.
"Oh, hey watch out. They're going to get us hammered today, it's only a matter of time until the break out the whiskey." Dutch warns me.
Sure enough 2-3 hours and several beers later I get a glass with a few ice cubes in it and about 6 shots of whiskey. Fuck.
I'm trying to be polite and converse with these people, and they keep impeding my efforts by making my brain useless.

Someone brings out a chess board and a conversation of who vs who runs on for a few minutes. Thankfully I dodged the bullet and the first match (match? game?) is between Dutch and Boxers Only.

They apparently have two chess boards and L challenges me to a duel. We prop the table on a stool on the front balcony overlooking the street and a small community park. The day is beginning to cool off, the sky is a few shades darker, and children are out playing soccer in the park. Aside from the drug dealers hanging out in the part of the park with a few closely placed tree's, the atmosphere is heaven.

This was one of those moments you capture in your mind and cling to. It was during this time I began to realize how hard it is going to be to leave not only Colombia but specifically Medellin. I really felt like I belonged, L's sisters apartment and awesome family are giving me flashbacks to my home-stay in Suva, Fiji (one of the best experiences of my life).

Now, I haven't played a game of chess since 3rd grade. Which was also when I first learned how to play it..
I polished off the glass of whiskey only to have it replaced with a splash of coke and another 3 inches of rum. uhh "What are the rules again?" I struggle to muster up. L on the other hand, is 100% sober.

She begins by taking 6 of my pieces and severely neutering my attacking ability. My ego damaged I swallow the remainder of my glass and devote all of my focus on showing some cojones. L's sister comes by and throws 3 more inches of rum in my glass before I can politely decline, god dammit people. Somehow I am able to kill a few of her pieces, so if I lose I at least have something to show for myself.

All the while I'm wondering.. do I let her win because she's a girl? Nah, chivalry is pretty much dead anyways, ladies want equality, I'll show her equality. Do I let her win because she's Dutch's gf? Or because she has invited me to a family gathering and pumped me full of alcohol and food, or do I let her win because she has killed at least 8 people and I know she has a tazer stronger than the electrical outlets in The States resting in her back pocket?

Nah I really want to beat this bitch. I'm finally getting into the chess game and really, really, do not want to lose.

Nearly an hour later I finally hit her with a check-mate. In order to show her the upmost respect.. I stand up on my stool (quite wobbly as L's sister filled my glass for a THIRD time during the match) and shout some "whoo's!" and "in your face!"'s.

Instead of tazing me she just put her face in her hands and moped a little, I'll call that a success.

Losing our Humanity

I have only been in Colombia/Venezuela for a little over a month and I am already seeing the changes it has had on me. Holland once told me his sister was worried he was losing his humanity in Colombia. I’m not sure what he told her that deserved that reply, I forgot, sorry.
When I first arrived in Cartagena I was overwhelmed. I can’t say it was culture shock, but I think a better term is disgust. I could not believe humans allowed themselves to live in such terrible conditions without making an effort to change it. Local Colombians throw their trash wherever they feel like it, just to walk around the same pile of trash the next day until they are literally walking through a path carved through trash that should have been in a garbage from day 1. The half completed demolitions and partial construction projects were more than an eye sore, many of these buildings looked like they could collapse at any time. It appears as though a local found it, ignored the leaning brick walls, tossed a corrugated tin roof on top of it and called it home.

I wondered if I would ever be able to tolerate such an environment as my “home”, and although I’m still not sure if I can call it “home” it only took a few weeks for the edge to wear off. I still notice all the shit, but now it doesn’t surprise me. I step over the human feces on the sidewalk with the rest of them and dodge cars crossing 6 lanes of traffic with a bored look on my face.

A few days before I arrived in Merida, Venezuela a (British?) girl was traveling from Caracas to take an adventure trip to Los Llanos organized by our particular hostel, a 4 day South American safari. Bus drivers on night buses and the big intercity buses are supposed to drive to their destination without picking anyone up. Supposed to.. Nearly every bus driver tries to grab more people off street corners to make more money they don’t have to report to the bus company, as there is no hard proof there were any more passengers once the bus leaves the terminal.
The bus driver stopped to pick up some more customers, instead of taking a seat, they took the bus hostage and held everyone up. When told to hand over all of her belongings this girl clutched her bag and hesitated. Boom. They shot and killed her on the spot, I don’t know where they shot her but I hope for her sake it was in the head. If she lay there on the bus dying from a stomach or chest wound, she would have too much time to regret the decisions that lead to her being on that bus.

About 5 days later (my third day at the hostel) a Frenchman showed up with just a small backpack. On his bus from Caracas they were all forced to take all their bags off and run them through a mobile x-ray scanner—a big truck/semi thing the Venezuelan military drags around the country. All of the bags in the storage below the bus were lined up in the median between the two directions of traffic waiting to be x-rayed. A motorcycle with two people on it rolls to a stop, picks up his bag and takes off, the VE military was too busy to be bothered and did not do a thing to help this guy.

Yesterday I witnessed my first motorcycle accident. No less than 5 minutes after leaving my hostel for the first time in Medellin to take a stroll and explore the area I heard the *baawwwk* sound of a tire losing grip and beginning to slide. I turn over my shoulder from the sidewalk to see three people in the air and hit the ground like rag dolls. I didn’t pay too much attention to how they fell because the motorcycle was flipping in my direction but stopped about 15 feet away.

Two of the people in the air were policemen.. strange, I thought. They both stood up, brushed themselves off and walked towards the woman on the ground. It appears as though the woman chose a bad time to cross the street and was hit by the two policemen on the motorcycle, awkward/bad luck. She did a complete flip and landed on her left hip/elbow only a few feet from the curb. A few seconds after landing, she opens her eyes, looks around and starts to push herself up only to begin screaming and screaming. She collapses and her eyes close, with no more movement for the next few minutes. The two police are now standing on either side of her. I know it is bad to move someone who may be really hurt, but they didn’t even bother checking her vitals or anything. A man steps out of a shop behind me, “Ella es muerta?” (or something like that). I replied that I wasn’t sure, and that she had just tried to get up a few moments earlier.
Two more cops show up, take a cellphone out of her pocket and soon there are 5 people (4 of them cops) standing in a circle around this lady all on cellphones, not actually paying her any attention.

After focusing on her for a bit you could see she was still breathing, she opened her eyes a little after I noticed this. A big crowd of people appeared right behind her, with her cheek on the cement she was facing my direction ( on the other side of the road). When her eyes first opened they darted around, her body completely frozen. After glancing up towards the sky (probably looking for the murmuring voices behind her) she looks at me. Her stare hits me right in the eyes and she holds it for a few seconds before closing her eyes again. She does this two more times, more eye contact.

I won’t pretend that, “Oh man, Colombia has made me so hard brah” because I really did not feel good about meeting her eyes, but the whole situation felt so casual. A guy on a motorcycle had parked right next to me, he saw the crash too, started saying something about his bike. I was looking for a park when the accident took my attention, I asked the man where the park was and he gave me directions. We stood around a little longer but left before an Ambulance showed up.
I wonder if the woman lived, I mean if you’re hit in the pelvis/stomach by a motorcycle with two people on it at 40 mph, do a side-flip and hit your pelvis/stomach on the concrete again… there are probably some internal issues.

Later that day I found myself accidentally walking through a part of Medellin with a lot of Motorcycle shops. I stopped and took a peak at a Kawasaki store and went to the street bike section, with the image of those people rag-dolling through the air the motorcycle looked a little less appealing, but I had spoke with a Swede in Merida for a while about his 1000 GSX-R and I was starting to get hooked again.