March 15, 2002: Thus far I've relied on public transportation, and my feet, to get me around Chiang Mai. I think that will change tomorrow: I'll be going up to a bike shop with Terry (new guy in the Heifer Thailand office) to rent a bike for the rest of my stay here in Thailand. It'll be nice to take in the city at my own pace, fast or slow, rather than sitting in exhaust fumes on a pickup truck converted into something between a bus and a taxi. The case for bus? It picks up multiple passengers. The case for taxi? It goes only where the passengers want, not plying any particular route. Baxi?
Today's trip home from Heifer wasn't particularly unusual. It took 4 taxi/buses before somebody'd actually go where I wanted; the upside is my comprehension rate (or is it theirs'?) is much better, I seldom have to repeat my destination, even tho' its across town, they "get it". Score one for Scott.
The Driver beckons me into the front seat of his ancient Toyota. It's a mixture of dread and delight: you don't have to sit with the huddled masses — but you have to interact with the driver.
This guy reminds me all too much of the Monty Python skit, where one of the actors is trying to make lewd references about the other's wife, obliquely. "Does she go? Does she? Go does she, nod nod wink wink say no more say no more". Or something like this. The downside of speaking any language accurately enough that someone will think you understand it is, well, that someone will think you understand it. But this driver — I think he's trying his English out on me. But I'm not sure. It does not sound like he is from our planet. It sounds like he's been reading one of the "English for Taxi Driver" books. I am not making this up.
I've deduced (from prior experience) that he wants to know where on Huay Kaew (my street) that I want to do. The street runs up a mountain side, about 30km, and before setting the price he's entitled to know whether he's talking me to the next block or the next town. He quotes me 50% more than the usual price, but backs down immediately when I quote the right price. Sometimes they really don't want to take you where you want to go, quote you a ridiculous price, and won't back down. So 20 baht it is and we're off. Now the banter begins.
"Amari?" (the Amari Rincome hotel is nearby). "No". Something something something blah blah blah. Taps his hand on my thigh (he does this another ten times, I'm starting to enjoy it) and says something else. "UIB"? "UIB"? Bang Bang. Oh no, not another George Bush "fan". Nope (and I never understand the bang bang reference). Turns out he's talking about UOB, Union Overseas Bank. Not what I would have thought of as a landmark — but it is across the street from my building.
Along the way, we broach the subjects of the appearance of Thai and foreign women ("do you have a girlfriend" — the answer is always "yes", even if you're gay, it's easier), how long I'm staying, and that Songkran is "sanuk maak" — very fun. I'm sure we covered a bunch of other things, I just have no clue what they were.
He drops me off at my Bachelor Pad, and I pay him his 20 baht. Seems quite pleased with the whole interaction. I'm just bewildered.