Episode 11: Thailand — Part 1

The day we left for a three week holiday in Thailand I looked out the window that faced Century Park. In pilot terms I’d say there was zero visibility. We’d been enveloped by a cloud of smog. I was worried our flight would be delayed, but by the time we were scheduled to fly we were cleared for takeoff.

***

We knew next to nothing about Thailand when we booked our Christmas Holiday vacation. We did know it would be hot and there would be lady boys. I didn’t even know it was a kingdom. Did you? I guess we also knew that it would be a fabulous trip because everyone I’d ever talked to who had been to Thailand said it was incredible:

The food. The weather. The people. All amazing. All beautiful.

And they were right.

Since we didn’t know much, we decided to stay on the most popular beach on the most popular island: Patong Beach, Phuket. It didn’t disappoint, though I’m sure there were probably more family friendly places to stay. No matter, we all got an education.

Every morning we lounged in the sun, ate a leisurely breakfast that consisted mainly of yogurt and the best mangoes evah, and watched tired lady boys stagger home from the bars and cabarets. As we started our days, theirs’ were just ending.

After breakfast we’d meander across the street to the beach. The beach chairs and umbrellas were typically lined up in clusters of 5 or 6. This one particular morning, all the clusters were already occupied by a person or two, so we grabbed ourselves two chairs and two umbrellas next to a shirtless fellow who appeared to be sleeping off the festivities of the previous night.

Rob and the kids went off on a seashell hunt which gave me a few moments by myself.

The guy sleeping in our cluster of chairs was wearing nothing but a rumpled pair of khaki pants and a crusty coating of sand on his bare feet. I noticed his shirt was being used as a make shift pillow and I could only detect one flip flop that was stuck in the sand by his feet.

Rob and the kids disappeared from sight so I took the rare opportunity to just sit and relax. I closed my eyes and wondered what kind of debauchery the guy next to me had gotten into the night before that would leave him sleeping it off on a beach chair the next morning. His ears must have been ringing, because he suddenly let out a loud snort, rolled over looking quite confused and completely disheveled.

I tried not to stare, but curiosity got the better of me and when we caught eye contact he really looked confused.

“G’day,” he said, as he swung his body up into a sitting position and dangled his legs over the side of the chair. He ran his hands through his hair, and then dug his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, hey there,” I replied. Fortunately I was wearing big sunglasses so he didn’t see my eyes widen to the size of quarters when I caught a glimpse of his abs. I won’t go into too much detail here because that’s not my kind of writing, but damn, this dude looked like a 25 year old Olympic swimmer. Shoulders wide and a waist that narrowed down to those little side muscles that sit just above the hip bones. Ladies, you know the ones I’m talkin’ about, right?

I flashed back to my freshman year in high school. He looked just like this guy on my swim team who I had to serenade in some awful hazing ritual on the bus after one of our swim meets. He looked so much like him that I actually felt my heart race like I was there in the back of the bus sitting on this kid’s lap singing God Bless America.

I put 14 year old Jennifer back in her box, on a shelf, in my memory, where she belongs and came back to the reality.

“What — uh — time is it? D’you know?” he asked, lighting a Marlboro Light that he’d pulled from one of his pants pockets. The pack of cigarettes had a gnarly picture of guy with a tracheotomy on it.

If that doesn’t stop you…

“No I don’t, sorry. I think we got here around 9 and I’ve been here for just long enough to lube up,” I said, as I shook by bottle of sun block around.

“Fuck.” He dipped his head down and ran his fingers through messy golden blond hair again.

“Rough night?” I asked.

Why am I making small talk with this guy?

“Every night’s a rough night in Phuket.”

“I bet.”

“Is this your first time?”

“Yep.”

“You’re American, right?”

“Yeah, but we live in China…in — Shanghai.”

“Oh, cool. I was gonna say…that’d be a long trip from the states.”

We sat in silence for a few short moments. Rob and the kids were nowhere in sight.

“My buddies and I come here every year for Christmas and New Years. It’s just a couple ‘a hours flight from Sydney.” He lit another cigarette off of the one he’d already smoked just before tossing it in the sand. “It’s still isn’t the same as it was, but it’s come along way.”

“Oh, since the Tsunami?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, you were here then?”

“Oh yeah, I was here.” He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I can’t even imagine. I bet there’s a lot of war stories.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette. “My buddies and I were sharing this first floor flat just across the road over there.” He used his cigarette to point to a low-rise motel two blocks away from our resort. “We were here for my buddies’ bachelor party…he’s since gotten married and divorced, but no matter…anyway, we had a bunch of bar girls in the room with us…they were all strewn about along with what seemed like hundreds of empty beer cans.”

He paused, smiled like he’d just had a good memory, and threw his cigarette butt in the sand. “And sure as shit, right about this time of day we went from being passed out cold to breaking through a window, scaling the wall up three floors to the roof. And there we all sat for three hours baking in the sun watching people get their lives sucked away from them in a river down the road.” He got up, looked under his chair and discovered the missing flip flop.

“Wow, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah. It was crazy…well, have fun in Phuket…hope you’re not staying on the 1st floor,” he said, with a sly smile before trudging his way through the sand.

Oh Shit…we’re on the first floor.

A few moments later Robby and the kids reappeared with a bucket full of shells and other beach debris.

“Who was that guy?” he asked, looking in the direction of the Australian guy I’d just had a chat with.

“I dunno. Some Australian Dude…he was telling me about the Tsunami.”

“Really? He was here?”

“Yeah, crazy story…” Grace grabbed me by one hand and Willy by the other and asked in unison, ““Mommy, will you take me swimming?”

“I sure will…let’s go” I said, turning back to Robby, “I’ll tell you about it later,” I said, and ran toward the warm waters of the Andaman Sea.

While the kids and I swam, Rob relaxed and the beach filled in. When we were finished with this round of swimming, the kids took turns burying each another in the sand while Rob and I took advantage of the rare opportunity to chill out together.

“Whaddya think of that guy’s body?” he asked. He tried to disguise pointing by nodding his head in the direction of a very fit, bald guy in a Speedo.

“It’s OK,” I said.

“Just OK? If I could have any body that is the body I’d want.”

“Really? Too stocky for me.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Besides, the Speedo throws me off.”

He nodded and we sat in silence for a while. It was nice to just sit in the sun.

Within a few minutes, the bald guy with Rob’s ideal body was upon us. “Hi. Do you mind?” he asked in an unidentifiable European accent, pointing at one of the two unoccupied chairs next to Robby.

“Not at all,” Robby said. He scooted his chair a little closer to mine to give our new neighbor a little more room.

A few minutes passed and a very tan, very attractive and very young girl walked up to our little beachy enclave. In a heavy German accent she said to me, “Can I have it?” and pointed at the empty chair that was next to me.

“Of course,” I said, and I scooted my chair a little closer to Robby’s to give her a little extra room. Just as I finished scooting, the very young, very tan, and very attractive German girl took off her cover up and what do you know?

She was naked. Well, almost naked. Her 20 year old 34 Ds — with no tan lines — were staring me (and Rob) in the face and her bottoms consisted of two strings and an equilateral triangle patch with a perimeter of about 6 inches.

Lovely.

Fortunately, she didn’t linger too long before she laid — boobs down — on the beach chair.

Robby and I were trying our best to hide our own giggles when Willy came over and giggle-whispered, “That girl’s butt is hanging out.”

That’s not the only thing that’s hangin’ out.

Robby shooed him away while trying to hide his smile.

So by now we were surrounded by a naked German girl and a European guy that may, or may not have been gay.

Next, another guy, both arms with full tattoo sleeves, bleached blonde, spiked up hair and both nipples pierced, came up to our guy and said, “Heeyyy!”

And the party was on.

Rob and I gave each other a quick smile and engaged in a conversation with the gay couple who were now our companions for the day.

It turned out they were from Norway and were very well-traveled. Tattoo Guy was a flight attendant, so they been virtually everywhere in Asia. The Philippines have the best snorkeling, but The Maldives have the best scuba diving.

Thailand has the best food and nightlife — hands down.

They’d been staying at a sleepy resort with a private beach on the other side of the island, but it was too boring for them so they came to Patong for a little excitement.

Funny that they ended up next to the married couple with two young kids.

The older guy didn’t say much, but the tattooed guy and Rob became fast friends sharing tattoo war stories.

Oh and by the way, did we want a beer?

But of course.

While Robby chatted with his new BFF I was reminded of two things. First, I was reminded of the time Robby met my brother, who is also gay. My brother could act just like a straight dude, or if he wants to push buttons, he can ratchet himself up so much that he makes Liberace seem straight. And Robby…he is a guy’s guy. He likes sports, beef and beer. Oh, and women. The first time he met my brother, John turned it on so high to evoke some type of reaction from the new boyfriend, but Robby was unflappable. Which brings me to the second thing I was reminded of: this is one of the many reasons why I love the guy so much. There we were, sitting on the beach in Thailand and my husband was making friends with a gay Norwegian dude instead of trying to steal glances at the naked girl next to his wife.

We chatted and took turns buying rounds of beer all afternoon. Every once and a while the naked German girl would lift her head to make a string adjustment and take a sip from a water bottle, but for the most part she remained silent.

At one point I stood up to jump in the water with the kids. Before I left, I turned my back to her and continued my conversation with Robby and our new BFFs.

“Excuse me.” I heard a soft voice say from behind me.

I turned around and noticed the German girl was sitting up in her chair. All three men were staring straight at her boobs. “Your emm…your emmm…” she pointed at the back of my bathing suit. I turned around but couldn’t understand what she was trying to say to me. She stood up and grabbed the back of my suit and gave it a little tug.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what this one is called, but it is out,” she said, tugging on the tag to my swim suit bottoms.

“Oh, thanks,” I said.

Really?

I turned around to see, tucked it back in to where it belonged and trotted off into the water with the kids.

***

The closest thing I’ve come to a natural disaster was when I was in my mother’s stomach. My parents and two older brothers, then 2 and 1, lived in an old farmhouse in semi-rural central Pennsylvania. One unseasonably warm day turned into a disastrous night. Family folklore states that the sky turned green, my parents, brothers and grandmother ran into the outdoor cellar and a tornado struck their house.

After the sound of a train passing in the dark halted, my family poked their heads outside of the cellar to a downpour. They ran into the house. My dad then did a quick survey of the property and didn’t notice any damage.

Then he popped his head up in the attic and it was snowing on his head.

The roof was gone.

They’d find out later that their roof was sitting in the neighbor’s field about 200 meters away.

My dad, the ultimate pragmatist was quoted as saying, “Well, we needed a new roof. At least insurance will pay for it now.”

***

Every day at lunchtime we’d leave the beach and head back to the hotel pool. One day the kids were trying, unsuccessfully, to scale the rock climbing water fall wall while Rob and I chilled on bar stools that were submerged in the water. Throughout the afternoon people came and went and we shared idle chit chat with every passerby.

This was exactly what I wanted out of traveling. Of course I wanted to explore new sights and foods of foreign lands, but I longed to meet people from around the world: people who had a world view totally different from mine so I could learn from their life experiences.

I was delighted that the people we met were equally eager to share their life stories with us, even if most everyone had a tragic story to tell. Rob and I were like magnets. No matter where we went we met someone so fabulously interesting I wanted them to move to Shanghai.

Wish it was this easy to meet people in China.

“Mind if I join you?” I heard a German man ask from behind me.

“Please,” Rob said, offering him the seat next to him.

Our latest companion was a 75 year old German man. I’d seen him throughout the week either at the pool or the breakfast buffet. I had already noticed that though he was very tall, maybe 6’2”, he hung his head as he shuffled his way around the resort. While everyone else was laughing and smiling, he had a distinct sadness that followed him — like a dark cloud.

After we made the proper introductions, and our new friend received his beer, we raised our glasses and said, “Here’s to Thailand.”

An unexpected conversation ensued.

“This is my fifteenth year staying at the Baan Thai Resort,” he said.

“Really? I don’t blame you,” Robby said. “It is by far the nicest place I’ve ever stayed.” I took a sip of my pina colada and nodded in agreement.

“The first fourteen years I was with my wife, but she…” He paused and rested his head in his hands. A sad silence befell us.

Robby and I shared a quick glance, and allowed our friend to regain his composure.

“This is my first year back since the…since the Tsunami…” He struggled to speak and tears welled in his heavy-lidded, ice blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Rob said. Robby reached over and grabbed the man’s bony hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

He nodded and we sat in silence for a few moments. Thank God Robby was there. He is very good in situations like this one. I, on the other hand, am a disaster.

“We were walking on the beach when it hit. It was the strangest thing…” he said. His eyes widened in disbelief, like he had transported himself back in time to the beach that fateful day. “The water just receded. Nobody knew where it went so we were all walking way out, probably 50 meters out, where the water was supposed to be. The local fishermen were so happy. They grabbed up as many fish as their nets could hold.”

Rob and I remained silent. I was amazed at how freely he spoke about this tragedy. It almost seemed like he was compelled to talk about. Like if he told this story enough times he would eventually believe it was real.

“And then, people started running to shore so I grabbed my wife’s hand we followed them…I wasn’t even sure why we were running until the screaming started…I looked behind me at one point and saw a wall of water coming toward us.”

“Jesus,” Rob whispered. He took my hand in his and squeezed it.

“We all got to this…to this wall and climbed over it…that was the last time I saw my wife alive…” Tears were no longer sitting idle in his eyes; they flowed freely down his leathery, sun-tanned cheeks and dripped into the warm pool water. He wiped his face and eyes with a cocktail napkin.

“How did you…how did you survive?” Rob asked.

“Phew. I don’t know. It all happened so fast…the wave hit us and we were all just swept away. At one point I was pushed into a palm tree and I held on as tight as I could, but the force of the water was just too strong…so I lost that one, but as I was pushed along with the water I was looking for more palm trees to grab onto…I finally got one and was able to hold on to it.”

“And you…you weren’t hurt?”

He lifted his leg out of the water and rested his foot on the edge of the black tile bar. He pointed to a large, jagged scar on his ankle and said, “This…ankle…was shattered. It took a couple of surgeries, but now I’m able to walk without a limp…well, almost none….and I had some scrapes and bruises…I didn’t even feel the pain in my ankle until I was recovering from surgery.”

“I applaud you for coming back here,” Rob said after another long moment of silence. “It can’t be easy for you.”

He shook his head, took one last sip of his beer and a smile came across his face. “It’s been really damned hard, but staying at the Baan Thai for two months a year is what we did. We loved it here. I believe my wife would have wanted me to come back. And so…I’m back.”

Robby and our old German friend chatted for a while longer while I went to check on the kids.

The truth was I had to get up and go. I was haunted by his story to the point where I almost started sobbing. I couldn’t imagine being faced with death like that, side-by-side with Robby, and me being the lone survivor.

Sometimes there is no escaping reality, even in paradise.

***

Stay tuned for Thailand — Part 2: The Price of Tea