- First moments in bangkok: riding the water taxi that seemed to me like a water-born Turkish dolmuş, the haphazard, careening-around-corners, jump-on, jump-off mini buses I became so familiar with in Istanbul. In Bangkok, we seemed to sit right at level with the water, protecting from splashing water by a thin plastic sheet as our tiny boat plunged down the river, barely acquiescing a full stop at the docks to let passengers leap on and off. A pretty entertaining start to the trip.
A couple hours later, I heard the call to prayer sound out from somewhere behind the block, unexpected yet oddly comforting.
bangkok by water
- Drinks on a rooftop bar with my Bangkok Couchsurfing host. Clearly ambitious and already on the cusp of a successful career, she told us her goals of attending business school in the U.S. Somewhere in there, she snuck in a side comment about hoping to marry an M.B.A., all while slyly eyeing my soon-to-be consultant male friend. I sat back, hoping for sparks to fly.
- Yoga on the raft anchored off a beach in Koh Samet. The skies had just begun to clear, and the clouds moved across in amazing dramas of light and color over the water. Add to that my exultant victory over my fear of swimming, and the raft was quite possibly the most soul-enriching place in the world at that moment. The only logical thing to do then was yoga. My travel buddy J led the two of us in downward facing dogs and warrior poses that exposed our bodies to the endless water, and our bums to the 5 or so landed beach-goers.
the raft
- Meandering conversations with our guesthouse owner in Chiang Mai. He took us up to a spot on a mountain overlooking the city, far away from other tourists, and there our talk ranged from why this expat stayed, how we find happiness or get blinded in our pursuit of it, Thai political culture (or lack of it), and American foreign policy. Then we walked over to the a waterfall- or rather, water slide – where a bunch of Thai boys were alternating between drinking, singing, sliding down into the pool of water, and, somewhat more dangerously, running off cliffs into said pool of water. (I served as photographer, having just recovered from a rather nasty fever.)
somewhat of an action shot
- One particular taxi ride in Chiang Mai. The taxis there are more like minibuses, trucks with the truckbeds covered over. You climb in through the back and sit on opposite padded benches facing whoever else the driver picked up. This is the best setting for spontaneous interactions – unavoidable, intimate, yet anonymous, and short enough to avoid pressure of more sustained conversation. After a trip to one of the weekend markets, we hopped into a taxi along with three other girls, each carrying assorted shopping bags. One girl showed her friends a small woven figure she just bought. It was easily the most disturbing thing either J or I had seen – some kind of demented vampire, a mix between morbid and cute. We started laughing, and that set off more show-and-tells that included us, as we pointed and giggled together without the need of words.
- An impromptu modern dance improv session between J and me. We clambered into a large temple-ish structure far from the road, where no one else bothered to enter. The building was composed of one long corridor – perfect for filming some dance. Later, we identified the building as the Khleangs, and the row of 12 buildings directly alongside it as Prasat Suor Prat, translated as Temple of the Cord Dancers. According to our guidebook, it’s rumored that performers used to dance on ropes tied between the buildings.
That can’t be entirely coincidence. I like to think the ruins still echo their memories of former glory, and we somehow responded.
- Riding on the back of motorbikes, casually passing by the temples of Angkor Wat. For the women driving, it was just another commute to work, but for us, an exhilarating journey of wind and air rushing past an unreal landscape.
- Eating watermelon cut straight off the vine in a watermelon field. Then watching the Cambodian women we came with try to load giant bags of watermelon (seriously, bigger than they were) on their motorbikes, which would also have to bear two people for two hours on dirt roads back to Siem Reap. Of course, their determination and sheer confidence won out, and we made it back, watermelon, people, and all.
watermelon and women
- Dancing freely and joyfully at the only nightclub in Siem Reap, with all the Cambodian friends we had made gathered in one place, during our last night in Cambodia.
- Experiencing Kuala Lumpur traffic in the hands of a pro. Sitting in the backseat as my friend drove and struggled against suburban traffic (everyone in the city apparently had the same destination in mind: the mall), I couldn’t stop laughing, the kind of laugh that waters your eyes and feeds on itself. Something about it was so ridiculous, this little car with its little driver battling the massive tides of this mechanical, inhuman traffic.
- The climb up Mt. Kinabalu, one of those worst/best moments. I will eventually get back to re-writing that post.
- Happily watching dozens of young children playing at night in a square facing Kuching’s river. Three or four vendors were set up in the square, selling those ubiquitous light-up toys, the kind you sold in amusement parks and touristed pedestrian streets around the world. The kids flocked there to play with them for free, and the night air was filled with colored light shooting up and racing back down. Occasionally, one of the vendors would count off, “Satu, dua, tiga!” and on “Tiga!” all the kids would scream with excitement and simultaneously unleash their flying light. Beautiful, joyous, simple.
unfortunately, no good photo of the magic, but the atmosphere is there
