Volume 20

Back in Siam

		So I returned to Thailand with little or no expectations. I figured it would be easy, more a vacation than a learning experience (you think I would know better). Bangkok was easy. I had no problems getting into my usual guesthouse (even arriving after midnight). By waiting to buy my ticket to India there, I saved more than $100. I had no problem adjusting to 10 baht (25 cents) pineapples for breakfast and similarly priced pad thai for lunch and/or dinner. After sorting out essentials and picking up some supplies (sarong, light pants and shirts), I gave up my deluded plans of multiple desitinations and headed for a beach.
Back in Bangkok (Kao San Road)

I knew Koh Chang from prior visits and was tempted to stay at the familiar (“easy”) White Sands Beach. When I thought of it that way, I knew I needed an alternative. I had heard good things of Lonely Beach but that it was difficult to find a bungalow (a perfect mix of unknown and a challenge to my comfort zone). I ended up spending the first two nights in a tent. I was worried when I realized the tent’s only security against theft and/or mosquitos was a safety pin (will I ever learn to stop worrying?). When a glorious sunset greeted me and my first Beer Chang on the deck of the Tree House I knew I had chosen wisely.

	the nightly ritual

Every night started similarly at the Tree House. Unique but consistently amazing sunsets called me and others to begin the evenings festivities. There were no chairs, just cushions around tables on the large rambling deck that was as much a jigsaw puzzle (built from whatever wood was available) as a carpentry marvel (supported on poles dug into the rocks) and work of art (accented by occassional gazebos and hamocks). A table with a couple friends easily (and frequently) turned into a party of more than a dozen. Beers were on an honor system (taken from the cooler and logged into your account book) other festivities just showed up (that they might be technically illegal was never a problem because the police only came in the daytime when they were dutifully rewarded for not visiting after dark).

	some of the usual suspects

Eventually (some time after the candle lanterns were distributed), dinner would be ordered from the wonderful owner (Pamela) whose kind and genuine smile let all her visitors know we were loved and welcome (that she knew everyone’s names helped too). Getting the food was often more of an adventure (althouth the tables were numbered, they were moved too often for any system to be effective). Instead the staff would carry food from party to party laughing as they butchered our western names. The wait was always worth it. When the cook would send a few blasts of his whistle and yell “Barbeque” his call was always returned (though often slurred) by thankful diners.

	The "Tree House" (Dec 27th)

There were other places to go for dinner (or after) but that was more a rumor than proven fact during my first week. The days were not so consistent. In part, they were determined by the level of festivities from the night prior. Christmas eve was a big party. Christmas day was a very uneventful day, during which I swore off ever drinking Sang Som (the cheap local whiskey). Most mornings I woke up, meditated and swam before breakfast. Some mornings, I would throw in a yoga workout. The best spot I found was the dance floor of the Tree House bar (because it was big enough, very quiet early in the morning and had a great view of the water). That was where I was headed a few mornings after Christmas when I crossed the bridge to see the still smoldering remnants of what used to be The Tree House. After wondering how I slept through it and learning that no one was hurt seriously, my mind progressed through a series of realizations. First, Pamela and Don (her partner) had lost everything they had built over the years (I immediately assessed that fire insurance was not a realistic hope). Next I felt for all the travelers who had lost the best chill spot I had ever found. It was only later in the thought processing that it dawned on me that ALL my valuables (passport, airline tickets, cash, visa and ATM cards) had been “safely” stored somewhere that no longer existed. As it turned out, they were saved, and I was VERY lucky. But I was equally as happy to know that my personal stuff had not been my first concern.

	The "Tree House" (Dec 28th)

There was a day of mourning. I thought of just packing up and leaving a few days ahead of schedule. What was left? Well for one, there were the friends that I had made (most were staying thru New Years). I hadn’t seen the depth of the bonds that had formed with the people until the place was gone. The loss brought us even closer. That night, the surviving parts of the Tree House were quiet, but the party lights were back on and that warmed my heart. The next day, (my last), everyone gathered together (locals and “farangs” /foreigners) to clean up the mess of charred wood, metal and broken glass. It felt great to contribute. The staff and owners showed their thanks that night by hosting a small unannounced and impromptu party that I could not possibly walk passed when invited and could barely walk from when the surviving threads of logic told me it was time to go. Asia doesn’t strike me as a place to dwell on the past (I can learn from that).

I found much to learn in Thailand when I least expected it. I once again found comfort with just my own company. I found the easy friendships formed while traveling and learned just how valuable those connections are. There was even some romance (no, I am not referring to the commercial brand that the country is known for). Suffice it to say there is always room to learn there.

My weeks in Thailand weren’t the most significant or important of my life so far. But, each new experience does makes a significant contribution to the compilation of who I am. Despite previous doubts to the contrary, I might even end up liking that person.