Monday, February 4, 2013

Why I Hated Thailand, Part 1: The Missing Undies of Koh Lanta.

I had always been conflicted about taking luxurious holidays in third world countries. I don’t buy the excuse of, “They rely on the tourism!” to take advantage of underpaid services, believing instead that there are less self-serving ways to help if that’s your genuine purpose. When the opportunity arose to meet our Polish buddies Aga and Anatol in Thailand last December, however, my inner-hypocrite cried, “Yes! Cheap massages!” and we went for it. On the final leg of the trip they’d arranged for Aga’s parents (and some other ‘old people’), our friends would meet us a few days into our stay at Koh Lanta.

We learned first-hand the insanity of Thailand’s roads when we arrived at Krabi airport, our resort having sent a driver to collect us. The big-arse ute was constantly beeping as we overtook scooters and tuk tuks on narrow roads, never minding the oncoming traffic around bends and hills. If there was a speed limit, it was not adhered to. I was thankful an unused seatbelt had been fished out for my spot in the back, while Ben held on for dear life with a front seat view, politely listening to our driver’s life-story. When he told us he was ‘studying Islam,’ Ben mistook this religious observance for an official course and asked, “What do you get at the end?”
“I’ll be a better Muslim! I used to party and drink and date women, y’know? But if you don’t do these things, if you are good in this life, then in the next life the rivers will flow with alcohol and you will be covered with untouched women.” Pretty sure the point of abstaining from something shouldn’t be an overload of it afterwards!
He went on, “Did you know that this life is short, but in the next life you live forever?
Ben, ever the diplomat, responded as though unfamiliar with the concept of afterlife: “Really?.. [followed by a little Homer Simpson style] Hm.”

 We slowed on a rugged, cluttered street without any ‘proper’ shops to turn into our resort, the Thai House Beach Resort. The beach was pretty as implied (particularly at night when, as I joked, you couldn’t see the filth!), but our room was ‘less than fresh.’ The bathroom was my key gripe, with the shower positioned to run over the stained and stinky toilet.
At least we didn’t have to squat, but rinsing our butts with a hose and putting used paper in the bin was also an unusual experience. I must say, although I would not want to be responsible for emptying the toilet bin back home, it did feel like I was polluting by flushing paper when we returned and the hose is certainly a cleaner process. Ben is squeamish about toilet matters in general and when he didn’t want to be interrupted during this foreign process, he’d warn, “Don’t come in! I’m having.. secret toilet time.” The Thai loos were thereby referred to as ‘secret toilet.’

 
Aside from the heat, the filthy roadside we had to walk and the random deposits of stinking garbage, our first few days in Koh Lanta were decent. I was intrigued by the oddities compared to home. Businesses did a little of everything, like a restaurant that hired out scooters, sold gasoline and offered laundry service. The greatest range of groceries was to be found at 7-11 and you had to take your shoes off to enter the pharmacy.

Our resort bar was beachfront, which was a beautiful way to drink and dine. The beach was no more impressive than those at home, but as we braced ourselves for freezing Victorian-style water, I must say that the unexpected warmth was a delight. Aside from the rough sea floor and whatever was giving us little stings (resulting in our frequent yells of, “Argh, rocks! Argh.. ‘stingers’!”) we enjoyed our swims. After seeing my own post-Christmas body in a bikini, I was compelled to try a morning yoga class by the beach. Hot, sticky and harassed by flies in seconds, I questioned my decision while silently willing my rigid pants not to split. I tried to remain focussed but admit to losing my cool when I spotted a bullant on my arm. Children on the beach watched, intrigued, as we ourselves looked like kids at play while attempting headstands. I finished the class at least pleased that I’d achieved one.

 
The stickiness was a way of Thai life and I learned not to compulsively change my clothes when I needed washing done after only 3 days. I left our laundry at the multi-service restaurant (as you do) and was pleased at the $3 price.. Until I noticed my $8 pair of undies were missing. When I asked the restaurateur about it, she vaguely repeated, “White women’s underwear..” then, as I found to be common in the Thai service industry, completely ignored me. Guess I won’t be seeing those knickers, again! Maybe they were rented out with a motorbike.

 
When our friends’ arrival was delayed, I booked a kayaking trip around Talabeng Island for our fourth day. We tried to grab a quick breakfast before collection and were mortified to disturb someone asleep on a mat on the restaurant floor. We were loaded onto two long slat seats on the back of a ute, with only yoghurt (and in Ben’s case, tuna – a poor combination) in our bellies, and I wondered if it would just be the two of us. 10 people and no arse space later, I felt rather mocked for my way-off assumption. Arriving at the water, it was a considerable distance to the longtail boats involving a stretch of flimsy boardwalk and the bridge from an Indiana Jones set. Only half-joking, I warned my very heavy, muscular husband not to fall through. We shared a boat with a quiet, young German couple and a small family from the Czech Republic. 5 y.o. Karen was sitting closest to the weighty kayaks when the poorly secured one on top flew off and hit the water. The family quickly moved away from the kayak missiles as we circled the fallen one for collection. It began to rain and we were saturated with the combination of sea spray. When we reached the gaping cliffs of Talabeng, we were sent out in our kayaks with the unspoken, typical Thai instruction of, “On your way, then. You figure it out.” After 20 minutes of aimless paddling without our promised guide, Ben’s foot began to fall asleep and he was angry as only a Leo stuck in a kayak in the rain can be. We were finally led into an unimpressive little cave with a rope for climbing a 30 metre slope, and I watched in horror as the Czech mother allowed her little daughter to attempt the feat of which I was too afraid! It was actually one of the Thai guides, not famous for their safety methods, who asked that the child come down.

We took lunch at the unspectacular Koh Bubu island and I knew that as Ben looked at the teeny spread with his ferocious appetite, he’d be wondering, “What’s everybody else eating?” As we waited to leave, the Czech parents allowed Karen to fling around a ginormous stick which nearly hit both of them in the eye, and I made a dash for the loo. I was finally faced with a squat toilet and it struck me as strange to know that the two cutely dressed Thai teenagers who were hanging out in the bathroom had happily used it. Well, I now know there’s a right and a wrong way to squat since I’m pretty sure I should’ve been facing the closest wall and not the empty cubicle.

Our final stop was at Tungyeepeng mangrove forest to feed the monkeys. The uncomfortably confident creatures boarded the boat to scour us for food and Karen, the sweet child of strife, reached out to pat one. The monkey bore its teeth and lashed out, so I grabbed Karen while Ben made a move to tackle the monkey! We now know who’s who in our fight or flight responses.


That night was New Years Eve which we spent with Aga and Anatol, who had finally made it into town the previous evening. Apparently, their boat trip took more hours than usual due to unexpected stops for swimming through caves! I can’t see why travellers would need that information. We sat on the beach and watched fire-lit lanterns traverse the water, which was very pretty (nevermind the pollution and potential fires. That’s Thailand!).

 Aga had hired a vehicle for New Years Day to explore the island and although I was nervous to be on the road, I was happy “So long as I’m not driving!” When we were given an auto ute and I was the most experienced auto driver, I found myself in the driver’s seat and the boys in the tray. Nervous as hell, I quickly learned that the biggest vehicles have right of way and my only concern became keeping the boys butts in the back (apparently, I hadn’t taken enough care initially and provided a makeshift rollercoaster). We found a very derelict little village where people still slept outside on their mats and music continued to blast from the evening’s celebrations. We passed tsunami warning signs, took swims, had lunch at a restaurant with an amazing view and explored Old Town, which I actually loved. The only unenjoyable part of our journey was through our desire to find some elephants. The map led us to a single baby elephant attached to a tree by a very short chain. He could hardly move and was literally crying, while the keepers charged tourists to feed him bananas. It was one of the worst sights of my life, made so terrible by the knowledge that it’s clearly acceptable in Thailand to treat animals that way. It was also common to see stray dogs, native birds kept in tiny cages, as well as malnourished and/or pregnant, tiny cats with their tails, for some reason, cut off.

 In typical Westerner fashion, I conveniently forgot the troubles of the world with a massage that evening. I tried my first Thai massage and it was the best I’ve ever had in my life. The little Thai lady must’ve hit all the right pressure points and was also able to give me a deep massage without much pain, which is rare. I walked out of the place like I was floating on a cloud.

 The following day, we went to see some better treated animals at Mr Chien’s snake show. We watched Chien kiss loose cobras on the head, explaining that they were distracted by his knees in their sight range. Chien ran us through the deadliness of each snake, telling us, “This one bite you.. Dead in 2 hr. This one.. Dead in 1 hr.” Not let out of its pen was a very dangerous looking black and white snake which could indeed jump two metres in the air to bite you on the face. It was no comfort to know the snakes were all found locally, but it was quite a show.

 
Our next destination would be Railay Beach, where we spent the remainder of our trip. Stay tuned for more hatey hatred!



 

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