Chapter VIII:

A Little Piece of Pai

I found the few days I spent in Pai rather boring. All of the travelers I had talked to absolutely

insisted I go there, but it was like an isolated bubble of Westernization. Pai was a farrang retreat tucked

deep into the hills of Northwestern Thailand, three hours outside of Chiang Mai. Everyone in Pai

spoke English. Prices were higher in Pai than elsewhere in Thailand. The Thai food was a watered

down, bland version of the fare I had grown to love in Bangkok, devoid of spice and flavor. One was

better off ordering burgers and fries to be cooked up by the expats who ran this little slice of

Westernized heaven.

Thai woman gardening

I rented a bicycle to get myself out of town. On the outskirts of Pai, I found a restaurant run by

an expat and his Thai wife. They made me spaghetti, which I enjoyed while sitting atop flat pillows on

a wooden deck that overlooked the river. I watched as an elderly Thai woman watered the flower

boxes that surrounded the restaurant. I saw other family members emerge from a makeshift shack-like

structure and descend to the river to swim and bathe. Children played with an old black inner tube,

frolicking in the frothy current, while an attractive young Thai woman in a black and navy blue sarong

washed her long black hair and soaped up her lean and delicate body.

Beyond the river were mountains, set ablaze by farmers in what I was told was a controlled fire.

Comment [Jeanette 1]: Passive voice to be cooked up

I watched the orange flames dance to and fro. They reached up from the ground and into the sky,

where they merged with the clouds, transforming them from puffy and white to an ominous black haze.

It was an elementally magnificent synchronization of earth, air, fire, and water displayed before my

very eyes.

Woman finished bathing in the river

I rode my bicycle even further out of town, peddling uphill on a grimy dirt path in the extreme

afternoon heat. Motorbikes would occasionally zoom past me transporting farrangs, leaving dust in

their wake. I was in pursuit of the waterfall I had heard about.

On the way there, I passed a bamboo home where at least half a dozen children played out front

under the supervision of two adult women. The children had big wheels bikes and action figures. One

of the women approached the road, where by this time I was walking uphill while guiding the

handlebars of my bicycle. The woman asked if I wanted to buy some marijuana. My friend Brian had

told about this.

She led me to sit at a wooden picnic table in her front yard, where the children surrounded me

and requested that I play with them. I smiled, and before I could respond, the woman had returned to

shoo the kids away. She handed me a small brick of weed contained within a small plastic bag. I gave

her five hundred baht in return, which was equivalent to less than twenty dollars. The woman rubbed

her fingers together and asked if I would be interested in buying some opium as well, but I declined and

said I better get on my way.

Shot taken while bicycling in Pai

The waterfall was pretty weak due to the dry season. Not only that, but it was crowded with

tourists from Europe and Australia. I didnt stay long, and raced down the path as I was now pedaling

downhill. I noticed a dead cat on the side of the road. It smelled of decay and was covered in flies and

maggots. This made me sad, even as I suppressed the urge to vomit.

When I got back to town, I decided to reward my muscles, which were sore from hours of avid

bicycling, with a massage. I found an outdoor teak hut near my guesthouse where I could breathe the

fresh floral scented air and feel the warm tropical breeze as a large woman, who resembled the Thai

version of Roseanne, twisted my limbs and dug her elbows deep into my flesh. I heard windchimes in

the distance and the sound of swaying palms and birds as they sang. It was the greatest Thai massage I

had ever or would ever experience; she was strong and firm as she kneaded and pulled. I would never

accept a massage from a skinny woman again.

My bicycle in Pai

I took some dinner with a couple of Australian men that I had met at an overpriced street

market. One of them took a strange obsession with my feet, telling me that he could tell my future just

by reading my sole. Once our food was served, he suddenly took my foot in his hands and started to

stroke it, while his friend carried on eating as if this behavior was completely normal. I pulled my foot

away and hastily explained that I needed to be somewhere, leaving enough money on the table to pay

for my food.

Walking home from the restaurant, I ran into a couple that recognized me from Bangkok. I felt

bad because I didn't remember them. I had met so many couples in Thailand and, although they were

all really nice, they all meshed together in my overstimulated mind.

The next morning, I decided I didnt like the touristy vibe of Pai, and that it was time to take the

minibus back to Chiang Mai. Not finding any of the Western food very appetizing, I decided to skip

breakfast and just get an iced coffee from one of the many 7/11 shops. I never drink coffee, ever. I'm

very sensitive to caffeine, but figured it was early enough in the day that I should be alright. Once I

emerged from the 7/11, iced coffee in hand, I started walking down the street when I heard someone

calling my name. I turned around to find myself face to face with someone Id hoped never to see

Comment [Jeanette 2]: AGAIN?! What is it with feet in Asia?! Might be something to research and talk about...

again.

Drinking alone in Bangkok

My first night on Kao San Road, I met this bald German guy who approached me when he

noticed that I was drinking at a table by myself. He egged me on as we drank so many beers that I

spent the entire next day with my head in a miniature garbage can, drinking questionable Bangkok tap

water because I was too hung over to leave my room and buy a bottle of Dasani. He had tried to come

back to my room with me that night, but I said no thanks and left him on the street. He watched me

leave with an expression of utter dejection.

Honestly, though, he had absolutely no reason to expect anything from me or to feel rejected.

I'd told him within the first five minutes I had met him that I wasn't interested in hooking up, but would

be open to having a drinking buddy. I've told this to a lot of men; most walked away. Some were okay

with being amicable, and even appreciated that I stated my intentions and clarified boundaries early on.

However, I realize that some men regard me as a kind of challenge. They carried on as if they truly

respected my wishes, only to prey on me when I was vulnerable in any way. Although Illd admit that

the vast majority of men I have met in my life have been friendly and respectful, it's the predators that

resonate in my mind. I find them loathsome because of their dishonesty. They were either guilty of

lying to me, or of lying to themselves.

Kao San nightlife

What a small world it was because here I was in Pai, confronted by an undesirable blast from

my past. It was as if my ghosts were following me from one tourist trap to another. I was glad to be

leaving. I pretended I hadnt seen the German guy and climbed into the front seat of the minibus. I

requested I sit in the front seat because I have a tendency to get car sick. In this case, my efforts would

be in vain. The van tossed back and forth as the driver sped carelessly through the mountain twists and

turns. My stomach heaved with acid and regurgitated bubbles of coffee -flavored air. I begged the

driver to pull over but he refused. I slumped over with my head between my legs as I dry heaved into a

plastic bag. I grew nauseous to the point where I really wished I was dead.

Several of the other tourists on the bus grew very concerned and urged the driver to stop, but he

ignored them and kept on driving. He didn't care in the least that the girl sitting next to him was green

with motion sickness and dry vomiting profusely. My muscles grew sore from the spasms. I dont

remember ever feeling so terrible, even amidstduring Shitemberfest.

Ahead on the road was a nice resort. I requested that the driver to drop me off there,

determined to check into a nice hotel room, no matter the price, and finish the trip back to Chiang Mai

the next day when I was feeling better. The driver ignored my request, pressing on despite objections

from strangers who echoed from the back seat. He refused to stop until we had reached the bus

companys designated rest stop.

I practically kissed the ground once we arrived. There was no way in hell I was getting back on

that bus after the twenty minute bathroom break, . I was still very sick, and needed to lie down. The

people who worked at the bus companys dumpy designated rest stop said that they had an old guest

room I could stay in across the street and down the ravine.

ItThe guest room was like a barn, built offrom rotted wooden planks gappedspaced six inches

apart from each other. Inside the structure were two single beds, each under the veil of a knotted

mosquito net. They charged me twice as much as I would have been charged for a nice room anywhere

else in Thailand. There were no other options, and it would be getting dark soon, so I was obliged to

settle and pay.

As night began to fall around six oclock, I climbed inside the mosquito net and tucked the ends

under my mattress. I listened to the buzzing of insects as they bounced off the sheer, white mosquito

netting. The jungle was loud. I heard birds making strange hooting sounds, and monkeys screeching

high up in the trees. Some unidentified creature was howling. The frogs croaked loudly from the

nearby ravine. The structure that was my accommodation had been built beneath some kind of tree that

dropped giant seeds atop the roof. All night, I heard a consistent thud, thud, thud as the large seeds

dropped like loud explosive gun shots on the wooden rooftop, before rolling heavily down the planks

as gravity made its presence highly known.

Meanwhile, I felt jittery from the lingering effects of nausea and caffeine. I tossed and turned,

still sick to my stomach, mind racing, unable to sleep. I had been unsuccessful in filling my

prescription in Asia, and had been off of my hormone therapy for over a month. The result was

extreme horniness, which led to further unrest. I spent the entire night wondering why I was in

Thailand, why I wasnt in Chicago, and who Id like to fuck if I were in Chicago.

My mind wandered with elicit sexual fantasies of men I hadnt seen in years. Hours and hours

passed, and still no sleep. I couldnt leave the confines of my bed for fear that insects would get inside

my net. I rolled back and forth inside my narrow prison, wrapping my body around the pillows and

attempting to tune out the high volume of jungle noise. I was somewhere in the middle of the nowhere,

quite exposed to the elements inside some sorry excuse for accommodation. I was alone, incredibly

horny, and a long way from home. What had really driven me here? Was I running away from Larry?

Now that I was so far removed, did I need an escape from my escape?

I heard the hooting give way to song as the birds began to sing. Through the gaps in the walls I

observed the pink shade of daybreak. In all my anxiety and sex drive, I had not slept a single wink.

Once the buzzing of insects subsided, I emerged from my cocoon. I wanted out of this strange place,

and was ready to get back on the road as soon as possible.

Hoping to find some refreshment in a shower, I went to the bathroom to find some refreshment

in bathing. However, my turning the shower knobs didn't result in running water. Instead, it ushered in

a swarm of ants that rained from the shower head above. They oozed out of every crack of plumbing.

I stood there naked and squealing, covered in a monsoon of tiny ants. I desperately shook every limb

of my body while I used my hands and feet to brush the insects off of my skin.

After I had dressed, I went back to the rest stop in hopes of finding a ride back to Chiang Mai.

Dozens of minibuses came through the rest stop, but I was told they were from different companies. I

offered to pay for a new ticket, but no one would sell one to me. They said that tickets could only be

purchased from the tourism offices in town. I went out to the road and put out my thumb. I stood there

for an hour, watching hundreds of locals drive by, but no one would pick me up. It was as if between

Pai and Chiang Mai, the tourists and Thais were invisible to one another. Their lives didn't cross. I

wrote in my journal,

What the FUCK am I doing?? I drink one goddam coffee and Im out wandering the jungle

like some farrang Moses. What the fuck was I thinking asking the driver to leave me in the

middle of nowhere so I could lay in the fetal position and puke my brains out until sun down.

Then the creepers come out. Tossing and turning beneath a twisted mosquito net, trying hard

not to get malaria, for almost twelve hours just thinking about who Id like to fuck THIS is what

happens when you give just a little caffeine to a lonely fucking woman that has been off her

daily estrogen for the first time in ten years. Im at the breaking point now, going crazy, like all

the great artists do but its not quite so heroic when its happening to you. FUCK! Want to go

homemust keep pushingattacked at dawn by ants. A SWARM OF ANTS! What the fuck is

that shit WHERE AM I???

that a large portion of Thai people don't like or know how to swim. The locals were afraid to go more

than knee deep in the water, but the girls and I took the opportunity to swim across the entire lake.

Geyser outside Chiang Mai

The next day was fFat Tuesday. Brian and his friend, Mr. A, took me to a hot water spring and

live geyser just out of town. The blistering hot water shot from beneath the earth and into the sky,

where it fell into a bubbling sulfuric pool. We lowered a basket into the steaming water and hard

boiled chicken and quail eggs, which we ate with soy sauce. We sat among a group of orange robed

monks as we dipped our feet into the warm stream which that cooled the water as it drained from the

geyser pool.

Brian hard boiling eggs in the geyser pool

Kopkunka, I said to in thanks to one of the monks, which means thank you in Thai, as he

moved over to create more space for us to sit. The monk and I both turned red with humiliation as I

realized I had just broken a major Buddhist taboo. In this culture, women are not supposed to talk to

monks for any reason, even in the case of expressing polite gratitude. I dislike any cultural taboo that

involves the exclusion of women solely based on their gender. Brian laughed and stepped up to

apologize on my behalf

Monks at the geyser

After visiting the geyser, the boys wanted to drink. We went to Big C so that I could buy some

girly alcohol which I hoped would be kinder on my body than Thai beer and whiskey. After purchasing

a bottle of plum saki, I found Brian and Mr. A in the food court sitting next to some Thai girls and a

giant tower of beer. We proceeded to get drunk at Thai Walmart before heading back to town to

meet up with another one of Brian and Mr. As friends.

Brian & Mr. A on completion of their Big-C beer tower

We pulled up outside a building in the center of Chiang Mai. This is where we met Batman.

He was a short and angry man who emerged from the building yelling ferociously at Mr. A in Thai. Mr.

A began shouted back at Batman in what became a very heated exchange. I didn't understand what

they were saying, but could tell that they were breamimming with aggression.

Mr. A got out of the drivers seat and went around to the back of the car and into the trunk. He

pulled out a tire wrenchiron. Mr. A took a swing at Batman with the wrench, then took a swing at

Batman with the tool. Batman blocked it with one hand, still roaring. Sitting in the car, Brian and I

took one look at each other.

I think we should go now, I said.

Agreed, replied Brian as we reached for the door handles and bolted. We walked around the

corner to a 7/11 where Brian purchased more beer.

What the fuck was that? I asked.

I have no idea, he declared, they were speaking too fast for me to understand.

We loitered at the 7/11 for a while before heading back to see what had happened. Brian and I

didn't know if the fight had escalated, or if someone had been killed, but it seemed like as good a time

as ever to buy more beer.

We found Batman and Mr. A peaceful and smiling when we were returned. It was if the conflict

had never existed. Apparently, their differences had been resolved. They were sitting behind the front

desk chatting, acting as if the brawl had never even happened. It was mai pen lai, water under the

bridge.

Brian and I ditched Batman and Mr. A. We got on his motorbike to cross town in search of

noodles. We were turning a corner, when a lady boy jumped out in front of the bike. Brian swerved to

avoid her, crashing into one of the Chiang Mai city walls. He immediately turned around in his seat to

make sure that I was okay, which was very considerate, but I was just happy and laughing. Brian

messed up his bike pretty bad, andalong with his toe, but we still got noodles.