We get two boats – one down the river, and then one across to the other side. I love getting the boat down the river. Like London, you get to see plenty of the city without having to endure any traffic or exhaust fumes. The banks of the river, called Mae Nam Chao Phraya, sum up what Bangkok is all about – prettiness, messiness, skyscrapers and restaurants.
Wat Arun is beautiful. I like it more than the Temple of the Emerald Buddha because it has more subtlety in its decoration. Where Wat Phra Kaew is garishly shiny, the structures in Wat Arun are decorated with millions of tiny pieces of coloured porcelain.
Jess and I wander in and out of the beautiful gargoyles and up and down the incredibly steep steps. Before I climb any I watch a bunch of cub scouts having running races down them. I wonder what the fuss is about until I climb them myself: the incline is a killer on the calves.
Our next stop is Lumphini Park, Bangkok’s answer to New York’s Central Park. We head to the pier and chat away to each other while we’re waiting. Jess is one of those people you can talk to about anything and have random conversations with, and somehow we get on to how paraplegics have sex. I have no idea how it came up… but if you think about it, it wouldn’t be great sex, would it?? We get off the boat at Krom Chao pier and try and walk up to Hualamphong train station (or Humpalong as Jess calls it) where we can get the subway to the park. We get a bit lost in Chinatown and end up walking down a soi notable for two things – an enormous pile of spare engine parts (I can hear the conversation between two Thais as they finished piling them up: “Tong, you seen my watch anywhere?”) and a food stall that steams to have fried duck heads on it. Jess is incredulous: “What, they even eat the beak??” Apparently so. Nothing surprises me about the eating habits of people in this city any more.
At the park are more unlikely sights. Now Lumphini Park is very similar to Central Park: the lakes and grass surrounded by trees, over which the odd skyscraper peers down at you; the endless stream of joggers (yes, even in this heat); the bodybuilder park (it’s a bit weird to see pumped up massive Thai men after getting used to their short, skinny builds); the monuments to dead people, etc etc. One notable difference is the massive monitor lizards that wander round minding their own business. Normally the sort of thing you see in a zoo, it’s quite nice to see them out and about. They pay little attention to us humans, unless they’re eating fish and about 20 humans surround them to watch, as happened when I was there. The lizard didn’t look happy, and I knew how he felt; I find it difficult to eat with people watching as well.
We chill in the park for a bit but I have to get back for stroppy Nop. Binnie shows me a great grammar exercise book which explains everything clearly then has exercises after to show you how to use the particular grammar point you want to learn. The lesson therefore goes a lot better than it did last week – there’s still a bit of, “why are we doing this?” from him but I’m a lot better prepared this time and get him learning some bloody English.
I meet Mengly for dinner that night. I tell her about Kanchanaburi, she tells me about a Thai pop star she interviewed – for four hours! Sounds like the interview was mostly about women’s place in Thai society, something Mengly has had first-hand experience of, so no wonder they talked for so long. She also tells me about a weird hospital museum where they have weird shit like the corpse of an executed and all kinds of ‘what happens to the body when…’ exhibits. Sounds amazing.
As we head into March (already??) I do lots of uninteresting stuff like give up smoking (that and Bangkok’s extremely unforgiving level of pollution have given me a cough), clean my room (actually bloody enjoyable – it’s nice to do something ‘normal’, if you see what I mean), get my haircut (I’m unable to communicate what I want this time and end up with a lot less), and read some celeb gossip mags in a bookshop.
The latter is a surprising pleasure. For a long time it hadn’t been so. Even having a flick through heat magazine brought more pain than pleasure. I’d become sick of famous people – seeing them, reading about them, talking to them, listening to their guff, writing about them. Now I’ve put some distance between myself and that world I can enjoy reading about those people I’m interested in again (and ignore those I’m not, which I couldn’t do in my job). It’s a nice feeling.
As Thai summer begins, Mengly’s time in Thailand comes to an end. As her leaving date comes closer she becomes increasingly happier. “The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is hug my printer,” she says to me at one point. The inability to get anything done here without at least some hassle has been one of her many bugbears, particularly as she’s been trying to write and file features while she’s been here.
One evening I sit and have dinner with Vanda and Mengly and I ask them about the things you discover about Bangkok living here as opposed to being a tourist. I ask to help with my own writing – for a column I’m doing for total:spec magazine – but as soon as they start I realise it’s much too big a subject to start bringing in other people’s experiences; I’m going to have to stick to my own.
Mengly and I have a farewell dinner on Saturday night. She treats me to a slap up meal at the swanky Oriental hotel in the south of the city. Swanky hotels is something I thought I’d see little of during my time here and yet this is the second one I’ve been in. It’s a beautiful hotel, with a spectacularly decadent lobby (it’s so nice to walk on carpet again – it’s been awhile!) and a number of restaurants – one on a boat which circles around the hotel. Mengly likes it because it has an eatery called the Author’s Lounge – named after the many writers that have stayed at the hotel, including Joseph Conrad and Barbara Cartland.
But we eat instead in The Riverside Terrace, where I stuff my face with tuna nicoise salad followed pork loin, washed down with a couple of mojitos. Perfect! It’s a bit sad as well though. I’m going to miss Mengly – she’s been interesting, engaging company; a very different pair of eyes through which to see Bangkok than any of my friends. Hopefully I’ve managed to provide at least a little bit of support as she’s struggled through her time here. Never have I seen someone so happy to be going home!
We go for one last shopping/bartering session at the nearby Suan Lung night market. She needs to buy presents for her family back home and I’m still on the look out for a bargain deal on some Muay Thai shorts. We both kind of succeed – she finds some CDs of a Tokyo ska band her brother will like and we manage to get a guy to lower the price of some Muay Thai shorts by throwing in a hat for Mengly as well. God she’s good.
The day she leaves I have to work in the morning. As summer has started, so have the summer classes, and each weekday morning, apart from my day off, I have three hour classes. The first one goes all right. I have a group of girls, aged between 16 and 19, who are all keen to learn and happy to get involved. Getting them to speak is a chore, as it is with any student here – it’s the one thing they’re a bit embarrassed about doing because they find the pronunciation so difficult, but I eventually get them relaxed with each other and speaking a little bit.
I have lunch with Mengly, as well as Sai, Aor and Aom. Mine and Mengly’s favourite – pork steak on the soi. Sai seems particularly sad to see Mengly going. They all think she’s great, and she seems quite unaware of the impact she’s had on them. Back at Mengly’s room Ting joins us and we see that most of her stuff is packed away. She gives us various bits she can’t fit in her bags. Sai gives me her number, says I can come over whenever. I’m quite touched.
I have to go because I need to write my piece for total:spec. I leave Mengly as I found her in Thailand – stressing about yet another problem, this time her losing money on the deposit of her room because she’s leaving early. As I leave she’s worked it out so she loses the littlest amount possible, but she still doesn’t look happy. I can’t imagine the relief she’ll feel to get back to LA.
Once I’ve filed my piece I head back to my room, wondering what on earth I’m going to do with the evening. I see Ting on the way; he’s off to play basketball with his very large mate Po. He invites me but I decline. I’ve not played basketball since I was at school and even then I never got my head round the rules (or how to bounce the ball without embarrassing myself). We arrange for me to come over later.
When I get there later they have a meal of leftovers and random food from the cupboard. I love meals like that. Just bits and bobs that you’ve not got round to eating yet, all thrown together to make a satisfying feast.
We watch Resident Evil 2. It’s very dumb but reasonably entertaining. I’m just in love with Milla Jovovich, basically. Then I head home, bracing myself for a full week of Working In The Morning.
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