March 8, 2002: It's been close to a week since I've last written. It could be worse, my mother could see this subtitle and then know her son isn't lying in a ditch somewhere, he's "in" the hospital. Actually both visits were quite brief and one of them actually scheduled in advance; a lunch date with a "friend of a friend". The other, well, happened. Read on.
I decided to stay an extra two days in Bangkok, I'd realized that I was violating the Thai rules of sanuk (fun) by paying too much attention to my class schedule at the expense of my enjoyment schedule. Even my Teacher had suggested in the past "why didn't you just call and reschedule?" (like when I came back from Pai after just a couple of days). Maybe she's trying to get rid of me.
So I did it. I added a day and a half to my BKK hotel stay, went to one of the train stations and changed my tickets (it turns out they'd only booked me a sleeper with a fan, not aircon — that would have been a sleepless night). Emailed the school. Emailed Heifer. So the newspapers will be stacked up at my door. I don't care.
Today's mission seemed simple (and like many complicated things, money would have solved it easily, but would have eliminated the fun that came with it). I was going to go across Bangkok to the famed Khao San Road area, which is supposed to be Backpacker Central for Bangkok. Even in the north, there are signs up at Tourist spots that say "Bus to Khao San Road". I made it there, eventually.
I could have taken a taxi; it would have been a great deal easier on my feet. But instead, I walked to a "Skytrain" station, took the train to the end of the line ("Saphan Taksin" — Taksin bridge). Took a river boat (8 baht, about 20 cents) toward the boat stop called "Tha Phra Chan". I say "toward" because the boat didn't actually go to that stop, despite what they told me. In fact they started going to Tha's on the other side of the river, which I'd never had happen before on those "taxi boats". Bad omen.
Once we'd gone far enough up-river to realize that we weren't going to hit this particular stop, I got off. On the "other" side of the river. This is the area called "Thonburi", and it was the capital of central Thailand before Bangkok.
I could see a bridge back across, and resigned myself to walking across it, were it as simple as that. But the area behind the boat dock was a maze of small streets. Quite filthy streets. I wandered for about half an hour before landing at "Her Majesty's Cardiac Care Center". I had to walk about the length of the hospital (maybe 30 minutes) before I found a way out, all the while heading south (the bridge was north) — making negative time if you will. Had an excellent 75 cent lunch there (spicy pork salad, spicy pickled vegetables baked in coconut custard, sticky rice with mango). Except for the mango, this wasn't a "role model" lunch for a Cardiac Center. I was the only foreigner there. There were stares. There might even have been gasps. No heart attacks.
Fortified, I continued the journey. Unfortunately, while it didn't rain today (yesterday was torrential in the morning), it was completely overcast, obviating any navigation by the position of the sun. It's quite a help/hindrance. Should have brought a compass — although a Foreigner with a compass must be at least twice as amusing as one with just a large nose staring at a map, reorienting himself relative to the surroundings, turning the map upside-down and around like a monkey finding entertainment with a piece of discarded fruit. I found the bridge, well, I found a bridge, and crossed it. Little did I know the water I'd traversed wasn't Bangkok's river, the Chao Phaya — just some tributary or something. So I now have two strikes against me; I can't navigate by compass direction because I have neither the sun for navigation, nor a compass. AndI'm now searching for roads in a city other than the one I thought I was. You don't do well in Los Angeles, if you trying to use a map of San Diego.
I walk for at least another hour (I've already been at this for about two). The streets get increasingly narrow and none seem to go anywhere of consequence. I reach multiple dead ends, sometimes at temples, other times in peoples' back yards, sometimes at klongs (canals used for transportation, sewage and sometimes bathing). People are looking at me with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue. It's like when I was in a rural part of China where they'd never seen a foreigner. Except it's all of about 3 miles from Tourist Central. I'm getting desperate. I've seen enough taxis to know that somebody will get me the hell out of Dodge, here, although I won't be in much of a bargaining position if I have to give in.
In the distance, a bridge that looks a lot like the new one (Zamboni or something) between Cambridge and the Southeast Expressway in Boston, shimmers despite the overcast. It's about a month from completion, Payam later tells me. Moments before, I'd spotted Payam peeing on the side of a wall in rather plain sight; like like scenes across Asia, this is not to be noticed. I continued to walk by as Payam continued to pee (I presume). As I came to the intersection, in the shadow of this bridge, I pull out my map and ponder (...continue to ponder) why the bridge "is in the wrong place" [because if its there, I can't be on the correct side of the water; impossible because I walked across it].
Payam and I, in English and Thai, ascertain where we are, and where I need to go. He offers to take me there and I accept with little hesitation.