(Part 3 of my Bangkok Series)
I did not mean to spray my cousin with pineapple juice. I did not mean to be the second child to do so in 2 minutes. I had praised her for her patience when her daughter gurgled up some baby formula on her. She smiled and told me that I was in fact the first baby she had taken care off. And then I spluttered juice over her.
I honestly did not mean to, but fate conspired against me. Two of my aunts passed by behind my chair at that very instant. I dared not look and see which two, but I think I recognized the one who said "I have to try one of those famous massages. My husband keeps raving about them to his friends and gets one every time he comes here for a business trip".
How can you travel to a place without reading up on it first? Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Bangkok. This is Thailand. When I told my friends about my forthcoming trip, they prayed that I would not be raped by a lady-boy. This is the whore-house of the world, and whoever is not selling themselves for money, is trying to swindle it from you.
Fast forward: Breakfast is good, Mom stole my orange juice so I stole her hashbrowns, the hotel has a shortage of spoons, two plates go flying through the air due to people tripping ,every foreigner is wondering if the circus has decided to stay at the Hilton, and its now time to retire to the rooms for a few minutes.
Did I mention I was sharing a room with my cousin with the baby? Thats what I thought. Did I mention that since most of my cousins arrived the previous night, and since my bed was free, it had become a dumping ground? I guess I did not. On a side note, a bag of diapers (unused) makes a pretty comfy pillow.
Its time for a short geography lesson. Bangkok has a river on the east side of it. Hotels along its banks have little boats on which you can cross the river. End of Geography lesson.
Post a nap and lunch (where they still did not have enough spoons) we decide to go shopping. An uncle decides to tag along quite grumpily (he wanted to get a second massage since morning 0_o ). Short boat ride, short walk to the sky train and we almost get swindled.
A woman manages to convince my parents that not only is she a hotel employee, the mall we were going to had been subjected to a terrorist attack. It is moments like these that I really hope I was adopted.
"Dad, I cant believe I had to drag you away from that woman's scheme". "Son, how was I supposed to know". "Dad, this is Bangkok, you shouldnt talk to strangers". "But Son, didnt she seem like a nice person?" "No Dad, all she was... was HOT".
(Contd. in Part 4 Time to grow up)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Monday, December 27, 2010
The Arrival.
(Part 2 of my Bangkok series)
In case you havent realized it yet, i'm an overexcitable puppy. There is something about travelling that makes me feel like im an 8 year old, with the legal permissions that being 27 provides.
Time to fast forward, land in Bangkok, airport is HUGE, immigration is long, immigration official tells me twice not to smile so much for my picture.
I just start to relax as we pull into the hotel lobby, when the cabby manages to remind me that we are in Thailand. You know how they say that when there is a language barrier, yelling louder doesn't help? It doesnt. What helps is telling a 5'2 cab driver, that the 6'0 customer who is cranky with no sleep does not believe that he can keep the change against a 500 baht note (on a fare of 340) as a tip for his drunken smile.
Hugs, kisses, yada yada. Why is everyone pushing their babies in my arms? The last time a cousin tried making me hold my new born niece, all I could say was.."Uhh.. has routine cleaning and maintainence been completed on this thing?"
Hello Uncle. So glad to see you after all these years. Yes I am a big boy now. Yes please, slap me on the back hard with the flat of your hand telling me exactly how much i've grown. That doesnt hurt at all....
So somewhere into the process of exitting the cab and entering the hotel lobby, another cousin tells me that my parents are in room 2014, i am in room 2005 with my cousin (with the cleaned maintained niece).Breakfast is to be had before we head to our rooms.
"Hello Uncle, why arent you eating more? your plate looks empty.. *slap on back* .. oh im sorry, was that orange juice in your hand? *smile*.
(Continued in Part 3: What it means to be in Bangkok)
In case you havent realized it yet, i'm an overexcitable puppy. There is something about travelling that makes me feel like im an 8 year old, with the legal permissions that being 27 provides.
Time to fast forward, land in Bangkok, airport is HUGE, immigration is long, immigration official tells me twice not to smile so much for my picture.
I just start to relax as we pull into the hotel lobby, when the cabby manages to remind me that we are in Thailand. You know how they say that when there is a language barrier, yelling louder doesn't help? It doesnt. What helps is telling a 5'2 cab driver, that the 6'0 customer who is cranky with no sleep does not believe that he can keep the change against a 500 baht note (on a fare of 340) as a tip for his drunken smile.
Hugs, kisses, yada yada. Why is everyone pushing their babies in my arms? The last time a cousin tried making me hold my new born niece, all I could say was.."Uhh.. has routine cleaning and maintainence been completed on this thing?"
Hello Uncle. So glad to see you after all these years. Yes I am a big boy now. Yes please, slap me on the back hard with the flat of your hand telling me exactly how much i've grown. That doesnt hurt at all....
So somewhere into the process of exitting the cab and entering the hotel lobby, another cousin tells me that my parents are in room 2014, i am in room 2005 with my cousin (with the cleaned maintained niece).Breakfast is to be had before we head to our rooms.
"Hello Uncle, why arent you eating more? your plate looks empty.. *slap on back* .. oh im sorry, was that orange juice in your hand? *smile*.
(Continued in Part 3: What it means to be in Bangkok)
Monday, December 20, 2010
The coming storm
Index:
The Pundit ran. I don't know why he did. I don't know why, oblivious to everyone else, he felt the urge to hold up his dhoti with both hands and sprint in chappals. All I know is that at any other time if a half naked man, in a towel, sandals, and forehead paint had dared to streak across the lobby of the Hilton, sirens would have been called. This time however, the Marwaris had come to Bangkok.
I am Marwari. We are a proud race. We hold our heads up high, with backs straight. This is more because our bellies prevent us from bending our spines, and our wallets act as counterbalances. We aren't necessarily rich (case in point, your's truly), but we don't spend. Its not a case of spending much, or less, or little. We don't spend. We never spend money. We never spend money, except for the few cases when we do, and when that happens, someone will get married.
So somewhere down the line my cousin decides to marry a Punjabi. A Marwari decides to marry a Punjabi. Thrifty, conservative, tee-totalling, vegetarians from anywhere-is-more-alive-than-here somewhere in Rajashtan, marrying a Punjabi living in California. The wedding was going to be in the whorehouse of the world, Bang-kok. There was no way i was missing this.
Anyway, fast forward, cousin books tickets, we finish packing, day of departure arrives, Mom and me on one flight, Dad on another, wait.. what? Right, so somehow my dad is booked on a flight that is 2 hours earlier than ours. He is on Indian/Indian Airlines/Air India (does anyone know what its called?) Much ado, baggage exchange, whirring down the airport riding on the trolley with mom running after me, and Dad having to explain how why exactly he was going to Bangkok for a week with no luggage or hand baggage (we had taken it) later.... we get past immigration and into duty-free.Oh yeah, and my dad's flight is delayed by 6 hours. (Did i mention he was travelling Air India?).
"Mom, relax, we have 45 minutes for the flight". "Son, lets just go to the gate and wait". "Mom, there is nothing to do at the gate, lets just get something to eat". "Son, they are STARTING TO BOARD". "Oh shit mom...wanna run?"
(Part 2: The Arrival)
- The Coming Storm
- The Arrival
- What it means to be in Bangkok
- Time to Grow Up
- Cruising Along
The Pundit ran. I don't know why he did. I don't know why, oblivious to everyone else, he felt the urge to hold up his dhoti with both hands and sprint in chappals. All I know is that at any other time if a half naked man, in a towel, sandals, and forehead paint had dared to streak across the lobby of the Hilton, sirens would have been called. This time however, the Marwaris had come to Bangkok.
I am Marwari. We are a proud race. We hold our heads up high, with backs straight. This is more because our bellies prevent us from bending our spines, and our wallets act as counterbalances. We aren't necessarily rich (case in point, your's truly), but we don't spend. Its not a case of spending much, or less, or little. We don't spend. We never spend money. We never spend money, except for the few cases when we do, and when that happens, someone will get married.
So somewhere down the line my cousin decides to marry a Punjabi. A Marwari decides to marry a Punjabi. Thrifty, conservative, tee-totalling, vegetarians from anywhere-is-more-alive-than-here somewhere in Rajashtan, marrying a Punjabi living in California. The wedding was going to be in the whorehouse of the world, Bang-kok. There was no way i was missing this.
Anyway, fast forward, cousin books tickets, we finish packing, day of departure arrives, Mom and me on one flight, Dad on another, wait.. what? Right, so somehow my dad is booked on a flight that is 2 hours earlier than ours. He is on Indian/Indian Airlines/Air India (does anyone know what its called?) Much ado, baggage exchange, whirring down the airport riding on the trolley with mom running after me, and Dad having to explain how why exactly he was going to Bangkok for a week with no luggage or hand baggage (we had taken it) later.... we get past immigration and into duty-free.Oh yeah, and my dad's flight is delayed by 6 hours. (Did i mention he was travelling Air India?).
"Mom, relax, we have 45 minutes for the flight". "Son, lets just go to the gate and wait". "Mom, there is nothing to do at the gate, lets just get something to eat". "Son, they are STARTING TO BOARD". "Oh shit mom...wanna run?"
(Part 2: The Arrival)
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