Jimmy

Hello again!

When last we left our intrepid adventurer, he had just completed his first weekend abroad and was back on the 9-5 grind. Tuesday was a new day and another opportunity to go see the squalor and sadness that is the IDC, only this time I would be making the trek solo to drop off some items for a client in there. Everyone else at the office had meetings and couldn't go so I volunteered to do it and hoped I would be functional enough to succeed in this the most minor of tasks. So, I woke up bright and early and headed caught a motorcycle taxi to the railway. However, upon arriving at the railway I found myself 1 bhat short of the required fare which meant I had to leave the building and walk half a block to the nearest ATM since I don't even know how to properly beg 1 bhat in Thai. After making a withdrawal and getting charged a criminal fee for doing so, I finally got on the appropriate train and headed towards my destination. I had been instructed that upon arriving at my stop, I could walk out and jump on the red bus which would take me right to the IDC. Sadly, I'm a moron. I could not find a red bus and thus I decided the best course of action would be to walk there having a rough idea where the IDC was. I headed off with the intention of hailing the first motorcycle taxi I could find who could understand me but that ended up being after a considerable stretch of walking. When I finally found a guy he did not speak any English so I was up a certain creek, sans paddle. However, after pantomiming a whole host of ridiculous motions, and repeating the street address 49 times, he waved me onto his bike and we set off.

Sidebar: As you all know, I speak no Thai. Not a word. However, while I've been over here I've en trying to learn some key phrases (mostly food) that I can say to at least have a modicum of input before I order dinner and end up with Spicy Food Surprise. But communicating street names to cabbies has been borderline impossible. I clearly can't pronounce anything worth a crap because every time I say anything they turn there head and look at me like I'm an alien. You know the way your dog cocks his head and looks confused if you start talking to him? That's me for every interaction I have with people. Also then, funnily enough, even though I am so clearly not Thai and my pronunciation has evidently befuddled them to the point of visible confusion, every single Thai person seems to think the best way to fix this lingual impasse is to start speaking to me in rapid Thai and asking me questions, as if I have any idea whats going on. Like guy, I've got one move. That's it. I know how to say chicken or bus station and after that, I'm useless. I know my Thai clearly blew your doors off so much that you don't even have the faintest idea what I'm talking about, but don't be fooled: I don't speak Thai.

Sidebar to the sidebar: I've noticed an interesting phenomenon occur every time this happens. When I come up to ask someone where the bathroom is or for some chicken or whatever and they start talking Thai back at me I invariably just start answering them back in Spanish or French. Every time. Absolutely no idea why I do this because it's not a conscious move, it is just a reflex. Start talking Thai to me and I just look in the eye and go “donde esta el bano???!” And it's not like I'm even close to fluent in either of those other languages either. It's just weird. I didn't do that last summer when ze Germans started talking to me so I'm not sure why I do it now with the Thais. Someone should study it or something.

Anywho, after I finally made it to the IDC to drop off that stuff, I discovered I missed the check in by 1 minute. I kid you not. I arrived at 10:01. The window was closed at 10:00 and the worker inside was nowhere to be seen. Cruel fates. I had wasted the morning and several hundred bhat. So, with no other options available to me, I back tracked my way home and spent the rest of the day doing office stuff.

Tuesday night though, that was something. After work Ian, a guy who has lived here for years and knows some people and things, invited me to go play some pickup basketball with him at a nearby park. Now for those of you who don't know I've balled a time or two in my life. Some people have called me “the short, white Ben Wallace” and “a prettier Hakeem Olajuwon” (granted most of those people were me). I really love playing basketball and I was excited for the chance to get my Rucker Park on. Moreover, I'm definitely a few inches taller than the average national height here and so, being such a towering figure, I thought that I might finally get to play the 4 or 5 spot and actualize my life-long dream of Dikembe Mutombo-ing fools and patrolling the paint like a panther. (Seriously, I'm pretty sure God messed up when he made me. I'm like 82% sure I should have been an NBA center or the lead singer of a heavy metal band, however I'm 5'9” on a tall day and have the vocal range of goat. Bugger all.) Alas, it was not to be. When we met up with Ian's friends, I was the shortest which meant I was stuck playing the two. Sadness reigned.

And after sadness, it rained a full on monsoon of 3's. Let me be very clear, the people we were playing with and against were awful. Defense was almost non-existent and no one ever recovered on a fast break, or even off a miss for that matter. It was like in pick-up soccer after an hour when all the old guys are tired and the game devolves into pockets cheer-pickers and defenders on both ends with nothing in the middle, only it was that way immediately. And I'm pretty sure part of this is because nobody plays man-to-man, which is insane. Everyone plays zone defense however, nobody is actually good at basketball so its a shooter's paradise. People are left aggressively open because team rotations are something that require actual skill and communication and both are lacking out there. What isn't lacking is the triple game. Thai's looooooooove their 3-balls. Just imagine a team of 5 JR Smiths with no coach to bench them and you'll have some idea of the the absolute avalanche of 3 points attempted every game (notice I said attempted because again, no one out there was actually good). Just shameless shooting.

We ended up losing most of our games but if it makes sense, I think we were the better team. For one, the games were played to 15 with shots counting for 2 and 3 points which is the most absurd thing I've ever heard in my life. The other big issue was the fouling. It might just be some idiotic notion of Western manliness in me, but you just don't call fouls in pickup. In Thailand, everything is a foul and people actually call them. I'm pretty sure I fouled two shooters while I'm sitting here typing. And that type of tight game really puts a hamper on my defensive strategies which mostly revolve around hand-checking and shoulder bumps. I'm not going to lie to you, for all the basketball I've played and watched, I genuinely do not know what actually constitutes a foul in basketball. My philosophy has always been if I'm not physically bleeding then the guy didn't foul me and even if I am bleeding don't be that guy and call him on it. Honestly, stuff that would in no way fly in everyday life is totally acceptable on the court. I'm pretty sure you could shank somebody going to the rack in the states and that guy still wouldn't be shooting 2. However, some guy catches a strong fart from you in Bangkok and they are getting the ball at the top of the key. As the games progressed, the Thai's started to loosen up on their calls and just let us play....except when I pump-faked some rookie out of his friggin shoes and drained the game-winning two. Then I shuffled my feet and the bucket doesn't count. I was going to argue but two grown men arguing over a children's game being contested with bogus rules and nothing at stake just wasn't important enough. We all know who really won the game, and it wasn't those ass-hats. That's a little thing called taking the high road.

Anyway, after Jesus Shuttlesworth-ing cats the victorious but vanquished hero and his team went and grubbed down at yet another Thai place which actually had some superb fish dish but the taste of moral victory is bitter and kept the excellent flavor somewhat in check. We all turned in after that and back to work the next day. Nothing too interesting really happened the next few days. Thursday most of the rest of the office left for a long weekend so it was just me and Ian on Friday which was equally as unexciting to write about. However Friday night was fun because this weekend was my first true weekend on my own. Left completely to my own devices, I had to figure out a dinner plan and I cannot stress enough how tired I am of Thai food. For all the many things I love about America, I think the best thing it does other than freedom and greatness is having an infinite number of food to choose from everywhere. Here, there are thousands upon thousands restaurants and street vendors who will sell you stuff....and it is all the exact same stuff. To get any type of culinary variety you have to go on a journey to more populated areas. However, a short walk from my abode I'd noticed a “Thai-Italian” fusion restaurant so I decided that was a thing I should investigate. It is a tiny place and Italian fusion is a stretch. Its a Thai restaurant with about 4 different spaghetti options. However, there was non-Thai food so I was thrilled. It ended up not being half-bad actually and the owner is an Italian dude named Beren who married a Thai woman and spoke decent English so I sat and talked to him for awhile. We talked about the World Cup and Italy's chances and I had a pretty good time. And when he was busy cooking my food, I watched the TV in there which was playing Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift on HBO. Now I love the Fast and Furious movies but Tokyo drift has always been the red-headed stepchild of the bunch. No Paul Walker, only a Vin Diesel cameo, and that horrible white guy with the really bad southern accent all combine for the weakest Fast movie. (Which is like being the weakest Olympian. I mean, you didn't make the podium but you're better than most.) However, now that I'm here and feeling super farang (Thai for outsider) I can better relate to fake Paul Walker feeling like a gaijin in the East. Maybe all I need to do is join a drag racing gang here. Although I bet they race scooters/motorcycles instead of cars.

Jeez this is getting long winded yet again so I'd better try and wrap the weekend adventures up in a more pithy fashion. Saturday I slept in which was nice and then decided I should go back out to the Bangkok streets and finish the touristy things I had missed last weekend. So I headed back into the fray of hawkers that is Old Town Bangkok. The sheer volume of people trying to get your patronage is absolutely staggering and never ceases to amaze me. What also amazes me is the sheer temerity of a lot of these guys. When I go sight-seeing I like to just walk around a lot and see stuff you know? Well when I do that around here every 4 feet some guy tries to convince me I need his help/tuk-tuk/taxi to get somewhere and then gets indignant when I inform him that no I'd rather walk. Seriously, it is outrageous. I could be walking right past a row of taxis and tuk-tuks with no indication of wanting one and another one driving on the street will honk his horn, stop, and wave me over. My personal favorites are the random guys who try to convince you that the wat/monument/palace is closed so stop walking that way. Like dude, no. I'm not an idiot. It's noon. No tourist attraction is closed at noon on a Saturday. These people are the actual worst and reflect very poorly on the city of Bangkok. It takes some of the enjoyment away from seeing the cool stuff when surrounding it is a pile of dirtbags.

Anyway, I finally arrived at Wat Pho which is one of the biggest Wats in the country and a huge tourist attraction. It was raining when I got there so there weren't a ton of people around after paying my way inside this tiny little man was sitting by the entrance and tried to convince me to pay him 200 bhat to be my guide around the Wat and, since I was all by my lonesome and wanted some company I acquiesced. Which ended up being a great decision. The man's name was “Jimmy” and he told me he was 72 years old and a former Colonel in the Thai army (of which I am skeptical). He tottered a bit when he walked but he moved with surprising speed and he guided me all around the Wat in short order, dropping in fun facts along the way. I learned all about the history of the Wat and how when “Buddhist die, cremaaaation. Put ashes with Buddha. 1000 ashes go to one Buddha. Whole families with my Buddha.” He had a solid grasp of English but not flawless and he had this hilarious habit of forgetting what he had already told me or what I had told him. So instead of hearing some information one time and forgetting it, I heard it about 300 times and could now lead my own tour of Wat Pho. He explained all about the various images of “his Buddha” as he called him and then asked what day I was born (which was a Monday). So he took me to see the big copper “Monday Buddha” which also meant forgiveness which is a standing Buddha with one hand raised up. After that he took me to see the solid gold Buddha which is the biggest solid gold Buddha in the country (but not like massive or anything) which was neat and then to see the reclining Buddha which is the second biggest Buddha statue in Thailand. This thing was absolutely gigantic. It is something like 40 meters long and, as Jimmy informed me 30 times “he lying down he's not sleeping! Look at his eyes. My Buddha not sleeping” even though I never once suggested he was lazy narcoleptic Buddha. When walking around the Big Buddha there are tin urns lining the length of the wall and people change out cash for 1 bhat coins and drop them in each urn for good luck or to make requests of the Buddha. Jimmy, in all his wonderment, looked into each urn, found the one that was the most full, cut in front of the person at it and grabbed a heaping handful of coins which he then gave to me and urged me to go drop the coins for good luck. I was laughing so hard I dropped most of the coins on the floor instead. This was textbook Jimmy. Jimmy had this kleptomaniac personality and had little to no regard for the people who weren't me. The number of photographs he ruined for other people because he just walked wherever he felt like was staggering and he gave me several items stolen from Buddha offerings including water and a little flowery corsage rosary thing that smelled delightful. Jimmy was the best.

He also seemed to know every single person that worked at the Wat and he had the most interesting way of greeting various security guards and the like: he walked up to them and grabbed between their legs. Sort of like how stupid frat-boys and teenagers will fake low-blow each other because men are idiots and children, except this was a 70 year old grown man and he wasn't hitting them, just getting a handful. So odd. But Jimmy was kind of an odd duck. When we went to see the tree at the center of the Wat for which the Wat is named (Pho) Jimmy kept reminding that “Wat means temple and Pho is the tree at which my Buddha prays” but when we got there all the Buddha statues looked like the smiling fat Buddha you see on T-shirts and Chinese Menus instead of one of the 7 Buddhas of which Jimmy had taught me. When I asked him about this he said “Oh that's not my Buddha. That's Chinese Buddha. He Fat Buddha. Not my Buddha. Thailand-China been friends long time. But that not my Buddha.” Jimmy was a hoot.

He also tried really hard to convince me to see the fortune teller and when I politely refused he looked at me, cocked his head to the side, looked at my ears and proclaimed that I would live to be 100 because I have long earlobes. A fact which, like everything else, was repeated often to me. And once he had decided I'd live to be 100 he asked me about my girlfriend which, I informed him, didn't exist. He looked at me so sadly and said “Don't worry. It's not too late for you. We find you nice Thai girl. Excellent cooking and most beautiful women in the world.” He then went on a big speech about how America and Thailand have always been good friends (a point which he reinforced by gable-gripping his own hands a gesture which Jimmy used all the time) and that many men come to Thailand to wife. Even “my friend Obama” (as Jimmy called him even though I've never met El Presidente) had come to Wat Pho but since he had a wife already he didn't need Jimmy's help and how the King's eldest daughter had married an American and had several children with him but then they separated. He saw this as concrete proof of Americans seeking out Thai woman and then he dropped maybe his best line of the whole day: “You know what Thailand means? Long time ago it was called Siam, which means 'Golden Land' because we had all the gold. Then we change our name to Thailand because we were never conquered like the others and Thai means Freedom so, Freedom Land. And now men come to Thailand from all over for our beautiful women and what Thai actually means is Taking Home American Income.” I about spit up my stolen water. Jimmy was the best.

Anyways, that is all for today. After hanging around the Wat for a few hours with Jimmy I finally decided to leave. He and I hugged and he told me I reminded him of his son which made me ask him if his son was disappointingly not married yet either. We both laughed and then I went on my way. I had intended to see the Palace but I'm an idiot and wore shorts which got me rejected from entering. Just another thing I'll have to do. One of these days I swear I'll post pictures but today is not that day. OH! And the fake curfew is now officially lifted in Bangkok so even though it never mattered to me anyway, it super doesn't matter anymore. That is neat and now maybe I'll have some more nightlife stories to pass along. Thanks for reading! Please share with your friends and if you have recommendations or requests for what I should do over here put them in the comments.

Jed

P.S. One last Jimmy story. At one point he was explaining the various flags in the Wat and what they all meant. This one is for the King, this one is for the Queen, etc. One of them he didn't explain and when I asked he said “Oh this one? This one is for our government. We have King but no longer rule. We have democracy. But every 5 or 6 years we decide democracy not working and get rid of it until we make new one. Like now.” Seriously, I can't stress enough how awesome Jimmy was.