Bangkok

As far back as the 1970s, I had an interest in going to Thailand. But, everytime I made plans to go there something would stop me.

First time I planned to go, someone in the family died, forcing me to canel my trip. Later.....

In 2003 when I was working in Shanghai for Niagara College, I was making plans to go to Bangkok during the semester break. But, then, unexpectedly, there was an outbreak of SARS in Southeast Asia which meant if I left for r&r in Thailand, I would have to spend two weeks in quarantine upon my return to China. This would have interfered with my work commitments so I had to cancel travel plans.

On another occasion I was planning a trip to Thailand but when Phuket Island was slammed by a Christman Tsunami, I decided not to go.

In 2005 I got a job in Bangkok at Sarasas Ektra, a private Catholic school, as a librarian. Dave Sperling’s ESL cafe was a web site at which I had luck finding overseas work. After accepting an offer from Sarasas I then unexpectedly got an offer to work as a college level history instructor in Dalian, China, for MSU. This was more to my liking. A professional opportunity too good to pass up. But, since I had just accepted the offer for the job in Bangkok I was frustrated. I wanted to see Thailand, but working in China was a better offer. I wondered to myself, why is it that everytime I plan to visit Thailand, something always comes up that prevents me from going there. So, I decided to follow through with the job in Bangkok.

The Bangkok job started in May. The job in China started in September.

According to my employment contract in Thailand, should I decide to quit the job before completion of the year long contract, I was obligated to give 90 days notice. A typical contract requirement. So, rather than decline the job in Bangkok, because I wanted to see Thailand for myself, I flew to Thailand. I intended to take the job in China, too, which meant that, in accordance with the terms of my employment contract, to avoid any penalties, I had to quit my job and give notice to Sarasas Bangkok as soon as I arrived. This meant I had to give notice before actually starting work!!

This was probably not the best way to handle the situation. But, since I had been stymied from visiting Thailand on three previous occasions, I was determined to go there, even if it was only for a few months.

My supervisor, “Mr Alister” picked me up at the airport. As he drove me to my off campus apartment, I told him somewhat bluntly, that because I had a much better professional offer in China, in accordance with the terms of the contract, I was tending my resignation. As we drove towards the campus, I gave him three months notice. All things considered, he was nice about it, and said, “For now, let’s keep this between the two of us.”

Have you ever heard of anyone quiting the job upon arriving in town?

In retrospect, I should have notified them ahead of time. But, I had already made flight reservations, and even though I expected it would be a rather awkward situation, after weighing my options, I decided to tough it out, and see Thailand for myself. I took a risk.

I worked in an older, tightly packed section of Bangkok. Sidewalks were uneven, and sometimes storefront awnings overhanging the side walk were so low, that it was necessary for me walk bent over. Markets were chaotic and always crowded. Traffic jams every which way. Using public bus transportation felt like being in a can of sardines. The crowded conditions got to me. The only nearby open space was near the river. So, I spent my free time along the river banks among the expat enclaves. I was there during the rainy season. The humidity was intense and the rain storms so heavy that flooding was common. Whenever it rained, even with an umbrella my pant legs would get soaked half way up. When I explained to my supervisor at work that I was overwhelmed by the congestion, he suggested that I take a sedative, and then took me to a pharmacy, himself. I got a supply of clonapin, that took the edge off.

Although I was originally contracted to be the school librarian, since Sarasas, had multiple locations around the city, and was suffering from staff shortages, I was reassigned to take over a class of 8^th graders. Oh boy. Of course, since I had already given notice, I suppose they figured they could use me in any way they wanted. In fact, while at first I felt guilty about giving notice on my first day, after working there for a short time, I understood that schools like Sarasas were used to dealing with flakey faculty.

Mr Robert, who was my supervisor, was originally from Australia. He was so enamored of the Thai people and loved living in Thailand to such an extent, that he told me, that when he was notified that his father had died in Australia, he didn’t bother to go home for the funeral. Yes. I know. It sounds odd. But, he related this story himself, to emphasize how much he liked being in Thailand. To each their own.

I never got well acquainted with other members of the faculty. There were some serious and sincere professionals working there. But, there wasn’t much point in getting acquainted because I knew I wouldn’t be there very long.

I remember one English man though. He was a burley sort of man, husky, thick set guy, who could have been a butcher or a truck driver. At first, I wasn’t sure why, but during casual conversations with him, at school, he talked very frankly about his homosexual lifestyle. A Rodney Dangerfield, look alike, he knew that he was NOT good looking and was aware that the younger Thais that catered to his sexual whims, were probably opportunists, only interested in him because he was a Westerner. He had no illusions. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was so casual about discussing the details of his private life, with me or anyone for that matter. At first, I thought he had singled me out as an impromptu confident, but then heard that in class, he used “Brokeback Mountain” as a reader in class, with junior high school students,, no less. I’m not sure why he was permitted to do that. Subsequently, I heard he was let go. But, he is worth mentioning because Thailand is/was famous for being a Gay and Trans friendly country. And, I found that this was true.

During the Vietnam war the US army used Thailand for R & R, which had a “demoralizing effect” on the country. Prostitutes were common place. I was surprsed on more than one occasion by being propositioned by persons I would not ordinarily expect to be sex workers. Many but not all Thai are androgynous. Then again, sex workers were not necessarily young or attractive.

I was unprepared for Thailand. I hadn’t bothered to learn any Thai before arrival. I was not prepared for the cramped conditions and for that reason, felt uncomfortable almost every day I was there. I visited Pattaya, a resort community not far from Bangkok, where I took Scuba lessons. Learning how to dive was something I had been curious about for a long time. I thought this would be my chance to learn about diving. If I worked it out properly, after scheduling a few weekend trips to Pattaya, I hoped to get PADI certified. Pattaya would have been a beautiful resort community except as a result of the Vietnam War and very heavy Western Sex tourism it was a seedy, grimey whore ridden place. The natural landscape was beautiful. Plenty of beaches but also, unfortunately plenty of floating trash in the surf. I was disappointed. I didn’t see the beautiful parts of Thailand that other people had experienced.

It might interest Americans to know, that the upper echelon of the US military lived, often times with their families, in Thailand, during the Vietnam War. They commuted to the war, and retreated to the safety and security of Thailand on the weekends. No kidding.

In Pattaya I was propositioned a couple of times. There were whores available of every variety. Ladyboys, of course. But, I was propositioned a few times, by middle age women, too. In broad daylight, at bus stops!

Thai boxing was a big tourist attraction, and there were restaurant lounges equipped with boxing rings, surrounded by patrons drinking and eating. In the center of the rooms, were boxers beating each other’s brains out, for entertainment. Looking back it was somewhat nightmarish. I recall one boxer who offered to have his photo taken with me, even though I wasn’t interested in taking his picture. Weird. His face was swollen. He had his “dukes up”. Nevertheless, he was ready and more than willing to pose for pictures. I guess it was part of his job.

Back home in Arizona, my mother used a nearby beauty salon for services such as hair cuts, manicures, etc. In Arizona, as elsewhere, beauty parlors and nail salons had become the province of immigrants from SE Asia, Vietnamese, Cambodians and Thais. Indians from Asia have bought up motels throughout the country. Elsewhere, Asians from Thailand,Cambodia and Vietnam dominated the nail salon business. And donut shops, too!!. When my mother, in casual conversaton with her Asian hair dresser mentioned that I, her son was in Bangkok, the Thai cosmetologist told her that she had a friend in Bangkok. So, during our regular email exchanges my mother suggested that I contact the hairdresser’s friend in Bangkok.

Why not?

At first I thought I was being set up on a date. But, that’s not what it was. In fact, my contact with this Arizona connection in Bangkok turned out be another bizarre experience. And, an unpleasant memory. After my mother sent me contact info, phone number, etc. by and by I gave this woman a call and arranged to meet her. Since it’s been 20 years, I honestly don’t remember every detail very well.

The woman was bi-racial American/Thai. Probably in her late 30s or 40s. She wasn’t bad looking but not young anymore. She was married and a mother of two boys. And, she was living through a real life nightmare. She told me that her husband had forced her out of her home. In fact, she said, that her husband had attempted to obstruct her return to Thailand. A certan class of expats in accordance with visa regulations are required to periodically exit the country. Her husband had withheld documents with the intention of barring her re-entry. But, it gets worse. When she finally got back to Bangko, she was in for a shock.

She confided to me that her husband had taken up with a younger Gay man, and moved the young Gay man into the family home! This was obviously not what I had expected to hear. Maybe I was on candid camera?

She was not a happy camper. Other than listening to her story, there was nothing I could do for her. I strained my brain trying to come up with suggestions for how she might handle the situation. But, obviously, this was such a bizarre and unpleasant story, I really had no idea what I could do for her. I wan’t planning on staying in Thailand anyway. All I could do was listen. I called her a couple of times, after meeting her, to see if she had figured out what she was going to do. But, holy cow! I had to wonder whether my mother knew that this woman needed help. I don’t think that my mother was aware that this woman was in dire straits. But, it’s been so long I can’t remember.

Based on my brief experience in Thailand, I was exposed to the unsavory aspects of what it was actually like to live in a GAY friendly country. Good for the Gays. Not so much for this particular woman. Overall, mostly seedy and sordid. Kind of creepy.

Incidentally, the King of Thailand, who had studied at Harvard in his youth, late 1940s, had a background in music and performed with Big Bands during the time he was in the States. At school, we had assembly every morning to start the day. Flag raising and the national anthem. I was surprised my first time at assembly to hear what sounded like a big band swing tune. The King had composed a song that the school used during this morning ceremony. I thought it was the national anthem. It sounded like a Big Band melody, a la Benny Goodman.

Since I was planning to enter China, in Thailand I had to arrange for a very thorough medical examination to satisfy Chinese visa requirements. I made inquiries and located a public hospital in downtown Bangkok that could perform the necessary screening. When I arrived, even though it was still very early in the morning, there was already a really long line snaking through the first floor lobby. I had been warned that it was going to be crowded so I had expected to be there most of the day.

I took up my place in line. After a short, time it seemed like only a few minutes, an older woman approached me and led to the front of the line. I registered at the front desk, paid a small fee, and then unexpectedly was fast tracked through the entire physical, which included, EKGs, Chest x-rays, blood, urine and stool samples. I was finished before noon. All in all it only took a few hours. Cost $25. How nice! I’m not sure if all Westerners are given preferential treatment. It must have been my lucky day. I appreciated this courtesy. That might be my most pleasant memory of Bangkok.

Crowded conditions. Wild dogs everywhere. Beggars. Street people. Poverty. Whores. Ornate temples. Monks clad in orange.

Another strange memory concerned the open air food vendors. The smell of fried food was enticing. One day, I noticed a large group gathering near a fried chicken vendor. As the chicken was cooking, a crowd assembled patiently waiting. I was taller than most of the natives so had a good view of the operation, and moved in closer to give it a try. I love fried chicken. When the chicken was ready, the operator lifted a large basket of luscious, golden brown fried chicken and dumped it in a heap on a table. It looked amazing. However, one large man, a local Thai, from the looks of him, a laborer of some type, unceremoniously walked up to the table and with dirty hands started picking through the freshly fried chicken, carefully selecting pieces of chicken. I was shocked. I was mystified that the food vendor just stood there as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. I decided to go elsewhere for dinner.

Before leaving for Thailand, I did an astrological forecast to check what type of conditions I might encounter in Bangkok. The relocation report was mostly positive. “It is a blessing to have found this location. You will be popular here. This is an excellent place for a vacation! But, not a good place to work.” How true!