Reality bites

I get pulled out of sleep by the lights coming on and everyone getting off the bus. I’m dazed and confused. It’s 4.30 in the morning and I’m not happy about us having arrived at Bangkok so bloody early. I get off the bus to go and find my bag and immediately get hassled by a tuk-tuk driver. In my just-awakened state he bears the brunt of my tired tongue. But of course this is Thailand and in this country to lose your temper is to lose face, and therefore the argument, so he persists. “Where you go? I take you there?” I tell him I’m not going anywhere until I get my bag, which is somewhere in a big pile by the side of the bus. I skirt around the pile trying to get away from him. He follows. “Get nag, then where you go? I take you.” He grabs my shoulder, then my arm, then he points at the tattoo on my wrist. “What happen to you?” he laughs. I don’t laugh back.

I want to kill him.

Thing is, I may actually need a tuk-tuk. But where we are looks familiar so I want to work out exactly where that is and if I can walk before I think about transport. I find my bag and drag it to the other side of the pavement. He follows, of course, and now I’m starting to find it amusing. I realise I need to play by Thai rules and thank him sweetly for the offer but I don’t need a ride.
Loads of people are walking up the road so I decide to just follow them. The driver tries a bit more and I smile back, thanking him again and smiling. He eventually gives up. I see the Democracy Monument ahead; I’m near Khao San Road. I can head there for a bit, and wait in a café til somewhere with internet opens.

ECC, the school I’m teaching at, have suggested a guesthouse for me to stay in until they help me find a place to stay more permanently. I looked it up and it looks nice, and it’s cheapish, only 590 baht a night. But I need to get the address from my email.

I find Khao San within a couple of minutes and as I approach it both ladyboys and taxi drivers approach me, ask me where I’m going. I feel like saying, mind your own fucking business. I really don’t have a good temperament on a few hours sleep. But this is no news to me; I just ride it and keep quiet as I always do.

I head to the falafel place that I went to with Jessy. It’s one of only a few that is open. But their internet doesn’t open til 8am. It’s now 5am. I order coffee, stare into space, and wait.

Hours later, after finally getting the guesthouse details (it’s in the east side of Bangkok, the other side to where I am) I decide to walk to Hua Lamphong station, where I can get the subway to near my guesthouse. This will save cab money and kill time (I can’t check in til 12pm). Plus I’ve not got the subway yet so I’m very excited by this.

On Ti Thong Road I get stopped by a Thai man who has obviously seen the map in my hand, and who starts asking lots of questions. I explain my plan of action to him and he tells me to go back the way I’ve come and get a tuk-tuk, which will take me to these various sights around the city. He then kindly points out various sights on my map. I have no idea what his agenda is – maybe he’s an off-duty tuk-tuk driver who just can’t switch off – but it’s not helping me get where I want to go. I thank him profusely for his help and carry on the way I was going.

It’s fucking hot. My bag gets heavier and heavier as I’m nearing the station. Except the station isn’t quite where the map suggests it is and I have to walk another 100 metres before it looks like I’m even close. A Thai lady approaches me. I groan inwardly – what does this one want? But she flashes and ID at me – she’s station staff and points me in the direction of the subway. See, most Thai people are genuinely trying to help, the rest reveal themselves very quickly, so it’s easy to tell the difference.

My bags are half-heartedly searched on the way into the station. It seems no one in any country is taking any chances after the London bombs; they have guards posted and searching people at all the entrances to subway stations in Bangkok. But my bags are packed so tightly that I don’t offer to unpack and neither does the guard ask.

The subway itself is amazing. It’s cheap, spotlessly clean, the trains are spacious and frequent – basically everything the London Underground is not. But then, as a friend pointed out to me, the London Underground was built about 150 years ago when there was a lot less people. I wonder if Bangkok will experience the same problems with the underground that London does in 100 years time?

I’m so pleased to be finding my own way across the city that I decide to try and find my guesthouse with the very dodgy looking map I printed off their website. It’s a wrong move because the map is officially The Worst Drawn Map In The World… Ever! I struggle with The Worst Drawn Map In The World… Ever! for a good half hour before giving up and hailing a cab. Unfortunately for both him and me the guesthouse is just round the corner. I’m slightly embarrassed; he’s slightly annoyed.

I check in. It’s very nice. I realise it must be cheap cos it’s so far out of the city, and so far away from the subway. I’m dog-tired but decide that sleeping is a bad idea and head to Chatuchak market instead to buy some clothes for teaching.

It’s a mistake. The market is hectic, as it was last week. But I’m so whacked and it’s too frickin hot. I get majorly lost and can’t find any of the stalls I saw with Jessy. I get so lost I can’t even find my way out for ages, only managing it when I spot a stall selling football shirts (they love English football here, and follow it with as much passion as any English fan) that I came in by.

I fall asleep on the subway on the way back, and I want to pass out on my bed, but it’s only an hour until I have to meet a man called Petang from ECC who is taking me and another new teacher out to dinner.

I go down to sit on the internet for a while, but it’s not long before Petang comes up and says hello. He’s a short, skinny man in his 50s with dark ruffled hair and a weathered face. He looks like he could be a wizard. I warm to him immediately. He quickly introduces me to Graham, the other new teacher about to start at ECC. While I tower over Petang, Graham towers over me, but he’s just as skinny as Petang. He has light brown hair and watery blue, slightly bulging eyes, and glasses. He also looks like he could be a wizard. When he speaks his sing-song Glaswegian accent comes out really quietly, and at a surprisingly high pitch. My immediate thought is, how on earth are you going to teach a classroom full of kids with a voice like that? But of course I say nothing.

We arrange to meet a bit later and I go back on-line. I’m chatting to my mate Gary, who I immediately tell about ‘Geeky Graham’. God I’m awful.

Later on, waiting for Petang, I find out a bit more about ‘Geeky Graham’. He did a psychology degree but realised psychology was not for him, and then spent a year working as a manager in a supermarket, thinking about what on earth he was going to do next. Then he saw an ad in the paper for a TEFL course and decided to go for it. I ask what his mum and dad thought of him coming over here. “They’re planning their holiday already,” he replies, laughing.

We get a cab to a restaurant that Petang likes. The journey takes about 15 minutes and I’m not sure if I could find it again, which is a shame cos it’s brilliant. Called Pathe, it’s this random place by a motorway that’s decorated with 20th century antiques and plays 60s records – actual vinyl – all evening. The records occasionally get stuck and a waiter comes running out to nudge the player. The place is full of locals and I get my first sighting of some GOOD-LOOKING THAI BOYS, which makes me happy. I wasn’t sure there was any such thing given my disinterest in the Thai boys so far.

Petang orders everything. We eat Pad Thai, chicken & cashew, green curry, pork omelette, lots of rice, and the obligatory Singha beers with ice. The green curry looks and tastes amazing, and I don’t think it’s that spicy at first, but I’m there stuffing it down and my mouth starts to burn and then my lips go numb. I stop eating the green curry.

Petang, it turns out, is basically the babysitter for new teachers and ‘acclimatises’ them on their first arrival to Bangkok (by burning their mouths off by the looks of it). For Graham this is useful as he’s just got off the plane. For me, I’m just enjoying the free food.

Petang tells us the Victory Monument is a good place to go in Bangkok, although through his broken English it’s hard to understand why. He tells us about the King of Thailand, that he lives in a place south of Bangkok, but has a place in Bangkok as well – Chitralada Palace.

I’m on top form, driving the conversation with these two quiet men, making them laugh and asking them lots of questions. Anyone would think I’ve not had a proper conversation for days. I start to wonder if I’m being a bit over over-bearing but I think, sod it, no one else is doing much talking.

At one point Graham asks me how I’m feeling about teaching. He’s obviously nervous about it. I realise I’ve not given it much thought, and tell him as much. But I figure it’ll be all right, I add, they guided us heavily through the course and they want it to work, so I’m sure that guidance will continue. He looks like he feels better. But then it hits me that the holiday bit of my trip is pretty much over now. All that pissing about and wondering what the hell to do next is over for now. From here on in I’m going to be told what I’m doing again. I have a job, and a schedule. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not.