Volume 25

International Relations

Perhaps, in India, I had pontificated too heavily on the topic of romance. Arguably, matters of the heart are better suited to playful lightness. Maybe, I was just trying too hard. In Thailand, the story took a dramatic turn from the theoretical to the practical when I met Sirinaree ("Siri"). Please don't worry (or get your hopes up as the case may be). That shift will not spice this Chronicle beyond the PG-13 standard to which you have become accustomed.

		Siri is NOT like the stereotypical Thai women that seek (stalk?) western ("farang") men in bars (with the notable exception that we did meet in a bar). She was uninterested when I sat next to her on a recently vacated barstool. She was content to sip her Heineken, chat with her friends and watch her adopted football team (Liverpool) finish off their unworthy opponents. Not that indifference was an unfamiliar response to me, but in this case, the overall effect was seductively appealing.
it was clear right away we had at least one thing in common

Over the next two months, we developed both a close personal friendship and an intimate romantic relationship. I was exposed to a side of Thai life that had not previously presented itself to me. Paradoxically, it was hauntingly familiar to my life in California. Siri has a corporate job in the financial sector, fun friends (all of whom enjoyed separating me from my baht currency in frequent card games whose rules seemed to change at the most inopportune times), an active social life and a devotional kinship to her mobile phone. I easily reverted to habits from past urban lives (including blowing my self-imposed budget) and even frequented the local branch of my health club (which is impressively upscale in Bangkok despite its humble roots in America). We ate VERY well (whether it was in restaurants or street stalls). We caught up on recent movies and we visited some clubs with remarkably good live music (and no cover charges).

I was obstensibly spending time in Bangkok to deal with administrative details (revised travel plans, income taxes, registering/preparing for yoga program, finalizing my divorce and Chronicle writing). While these tasks were eventually accomplished (with the belated exception of Chronicling) they did not warrant the lengthy stretches of time I spent in Bangkok. I admitted that Siri was my motivation for being there. It felt great to just be happy with someone special. Nor was I trapped in the congested urban sprawl. I made two extended visits south to the gulf islands (one of which included a "visa run" to Malaysia so I could spend another 30-days in Thailand). During both my beach excursions, Siri was able to visit for long weekends. The latter of the two trips to Koh Phangan was far more noteworthy (not only because I encountered two previously avoided experiences: a full-moon party on Haad Rin and Dengue Fever).

	Haad Yuan on Koh Phangan

On Koh Phangan, I was re-united with some of the close friends I had met in India. We had all approached the limits of our 6-month maximum stay in India (or were just ready for a break). I was not the only one that chose Thailand as an attractive next stop. Some of us had previously discovered the Sanctuary and neighboring beach of Haad Yuan. Our praise of the natural beauty, good food, yoga facilities and mellow atmosphere (not to mention cheap bungalows) made this an appealing destination for like-minded friends. There were eight of them there when I arrived (shortly after being labeled an "unsocial git" by my good friend Dorry for even considering visiting an alternative island). More trickled in as the weeks passed (with or without Dorry's pursuasive invitations).

It was interesting to see my meditative conspirators in a different environment. We all seemed less spiritual. It wasn't just the rediculous quantity of beer we drank the night I arrived, but that was indicative of everyone taking themselves a bit less seriously. Our days were filled with difficult choices. Breakfast or a swim? Tan the front or the back? Share a mocha shake or live on the edge and have a whole one?
	if we have to be somewhere, why not here?

Siri arrived about a week later. Exposing her to this crowd felt like a family introduction (though she took it in graceful stride). It was not just a public admission that I had a "girlfriend". There was also the unfortunate stigma that accompanies any relationship between a Thai woman and a western man. Because so many of these relationships are shallow pursuits of compatible desires, it is frequently assumed that they all are. This was not a jusgement I expected from my ever-accepting friends (nor did it interfere with our enjoyable time together in the tranquil beach paradise), but it was a factor that presented itself on other occasions.

The first night we spent together (in Bangkok), we were evicted from my guesthouse because it was assumed Siri was a prostitute (simply because she was Thai). It was not just the insulting assaults against our respective moral characters that was infuriating, but also the ludicrous manner in which the scene developed. A family member had admitted us through the locked front gate shortly after midnight. It was hours later (around 3:00AM) when we were woken by pounding on the door. I wasn't sure what the knocker expected in the way of a response, but mine was fairly clear (though tactfully restrained) "go away". The scene was reenacted in two hour intervals until I opened the door to break the pattern (at what I felt was a reasonable time) during the 7:00 rerun. The owners were irate that we had not opened the door earlier and were waiving a "No Thais allowed" sign that had clearly just been created that morning. I was not surprised when they asked us to leave, but was amazed when they demanded more money for the "extra guest" (I was already paying the full rate for a double room). When I balked, they threatened to call the police. I was mildly curious how that would play out and was tempted to call their bluff. In the end, paying the $2 extortion demand seemed the least painful way of putting the situation behind us and giving the owners some of the culturally essential satisfaction of saving face.

	trying to fit in as one of the locals in Bangkok

Unfortunately, this was only the most blatant encounter of the many that I felt degraded all Thai women (and wasn't exactly complimentary to my character). After Siri had left Koh Phangan, one of the men from the restaurant where we regularly congregated for lunch asked if my girlfriend had left. When I said that she had returned to Bangkok, he replied, "no worry, you can get another one."

Was I perpetuating these stereotypes by being with a Thai woman? I had initially glossed over this concern because ours did not fit my interpretation of a shallow sex-oriented relationship. Two of the trademark characteristics were missing. She was not half my age (but only a few years younger) and she certainly wasn’t with me for the money. But these were just characteristics by which I (obviously) pre-judged others. So how can I complain when the spotlight comes my way? (Especially when I am so often the one aiming that spotlight) If anyone else asked whether it was “wise and caring” to enter a relationship with no obvious path to a future, I could deflect the question by asking, what relationships don’t fall into this category? But self-deflection is not so easy. We mutually decided not to let either the unforeseeable future or fickled perceptions interfere with our lives in the present. That seemed much easier for me in my magic-carpet ride world. Was it selfish for something to be easier for me for a change? Or "caring" to even notice? None of our wonderful time together would have been possible if we had listened to these fears. Why look for extra challenges in any relationship?

The concept of close (but plutonic) relationships with single women friends was difficult to import through the cultural barrier (suffice it to say that in general western men have not done much to build the trust and respect of Thai women). Explaining my many women friends to Siri was challenging enough. Explaining my continuing relationship with my ex-partner (Cary) was beyond hope. I’m not even sure I understand it myself. In the end, it comes back to it just feels like the right thing to do.

Cary was instrumental in helping me extend and eventually file my income tax returns from abroad (thus enabling me to extend my travels). Throughout that process, our communications were an odd mix of shared emotions and mundane details. The emotions and details seemed to merge when Cary let me know that our divorce was to be finalized on June 7th. We decided that rather than let the event pass unmarked, we would have a “virtual ritual of closure.” We invited friends and family to watch that day’s sunset from wherever they were and take the opportunity to reflect on the many wonderful times we had shared together. The symbolism was so obvious that it approached greeting card status. Still, I couldn’t help pointing out that while shared friends in America were watching the end of one day, another would have already begun for me wherever I was in Thailand.

That “wherever” was going to be a quiet beach. The list of “shared friends” was to be expanded to include many of you who had so kindly supported me through the separation/divorce experience. Dengue fever (a potentially lethal mosquito transmitted disease) saw to it that neither of these intentions were fulfilled. When that Friday of finality arrived, I was less than half way through an exhausting two-week recovery (that was fatefully well timed with the beginning of the World Cup). Siri was reluctant to let me out on my own (I had passed out in a restaurant a few days earlier) and only begrudgingly accepted that this was a time for solitary reflection (A co-hosted divorce ritual is admittedly unusual by western standards. From a Thai perspective, it was reason to believe the fever had damaged my brain). To make a long story short, that is how I wound up sipping an over-priced coke and staring out a dirt-smeared window in a cheesy bar on the 88th floor of Bangkok s tallest hotel. I was glad to be able to laugh at the comicly pathetic setting. The venue seldom turns out to be the most important element in a meaningful experience. That being said, I hope those of you that did participate found more conducive environments.

Some have suggested that I am still “healing” from the termination of my marriage. I prefer to view this time as more of an exploration and growth phase. Surely part of understanding the lessons life offers is related to their origin(s). More important (in my humble opinion) is applying that understanding to the present. One practical application that seems to satisfy the wise and caring objective is respecting and appreciating everyone who is part of my life.