Katrina and I decided to jet off to Thailand for a week. (Well, it wasn’t that simple. I had to get leave approved. Then we had to get tickets. Then we had to travel from Chittagong to Dhaka by tiny plane, stay the night at a guest house, then fly to Bangkok the next day. Whew!) We were on the same route as fellow universitarians Matt and Jalene—and they offered to show us around. Seeing as neither Katrina nor I had planned anything, we took them up on the offer.
We stayed at a nice guest house, Baan Sabai, in the touristy—but not crazy touri
sty (Kaosan Road)—area. We celebrated our vacation with a beer and some Thai street food. Thus began my obsession with paad thai—thai noodles. I have eaten at least one serving of this a day here. Matt suggested the other day that I break out of my paad thai shell. I said “Why? I know what it’s gonna taste like, and it’s almost impossible that it’s not gonna be good.” Thus far, I have enjoyed every paad thai—“same same, but different.”Matt took us that first night to a blues bar—and it was great. Jalene made up a drink years ago using saeng som (Thai whiskey), coke, and menau (lime) soda. Unfortunately, the third ingredient was missing, but the drinks were great all the same. Nothing like hearing “Bad to the Bone” in Thai!
Sleeping in the next day was golden—a theme for the day. After spending some gold on coffee at a Starbucks knock-off, and visiting the Golden Arches, we headed over to the Grand Palace where lots of buildings are doused in gold. Now, a quick word about what I just said—yes, I went to McDonald’s and I ate a Big Mac in Thailand. I hate McDonald’s. But living in Bangladesh for 2 ½ months does strange things to an American.
The Grand Palace is the resident of the king and queen—and the one place every tourist must visit in Bangkok. Before entering, one has to cover their shoulders and legs. Celebrating my being out of Bangladesh, I had on mid-calf capris and a tank top. I had taken an orna (remember that thing I have to cover with in Bangladesh?), but the guard said I couldn’t wrap it around me to cover my bare shoulders. (This is while other people were being allowed in wearing cap sleeve shirts with v necks to their belly buttons, and Thai students with mini skirts on. But the guard was not having anything to do with my mummy wrap). So rather than wait in line for an hour to borrow a t-shirt, I went into the gift shop and paid 280 baht ($9) for an ugly, thick t-shirt. I call it my “forced souvenir.” Either way, it got me in.
As for the Palace itself, it was beautiful—and blazing hot. Although we didn’t see the king and queen, I feel like I know the pair quite well after a week here. Their images are everywhere here in Thailand. Reverence or propaganda—who knows. They seem like nice, quiet folks—who look great in portraits 20 feet tall and 10 feet wide. Wish I was that photogenic…
Me and my t-shirt and a big golden structure
The guard was not amused...
"Matt, we're surrounded!"After all that walking and sweating, we headed to the MBK Mall. Matt and Jalene really wanted to watch a movie. G.I. Joe was playing. (As most of you know I am not a big movie person—unless it is a poignant, non-tear inducing film that makes me think, but not too much.) Kat and I politely declined and instead strolled the seven stories of a/c and stalls with clothing, food, trinkets, entertainment, and bling. Stuff wasn’t cheap, and I really didn’t need to buy anything anyways. So I was ready to get out of there when Matt and Jalene’s movie was done.
We had dinner at the street vendor we ate at the night before. I think I had a target on my head; my chair took the first hit. The second time, the bird hit my shoulder. The Italians next to us got a kick out of it--cattivo birdie!
Photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/summerbclewis/ThailandAugust21282009#
