As planned, my plane landed in Bangkok at 11 pm. It was a hot night in January. Vitoon had warned me that the country was under martial law and there was a curfew that started either at sundown or 10 pm and lasted until 7 am. As I picked up my luggage and prepared to spend the night on a bench, I saw Vitoon peeking around the corner and motioning to me to follow him out a side door. He said that he'd borrowed an official-looking car and that his credentials could get us home. We drove about fifteen miles on the highway to the city without seeing another moving car or police. It was exhilarating and a bit scary. But it was nice to be riding with someone with such clout as to defy the curfew and the military police.
The road amounted to a freeway that we exited and after driving a short while, we came into a suburban neighborhood with lots of vacant lots and grass growing alongside the pavement 5 or 6 feet tall. His home appeared to be like new, two-story and very similar to American suburban homes. There were some palm trees in the small front yard and a 190 Mercedes sedan. It apparently wasn't running, because we were driving a Fiat 850 that Vitoon had borrowed from his travel agent business friend who he said had, "eight cars," and got us those cut-rate tickets.
Inside the front door, there was a living room to the right, and to the left, a TV viewing room. What was unique was that the TV was merely a television tube with the components all mounted on a large Masonite pegboard behind. Vitoon was an expert TV technician and build his own televisions from components. Told me, "I have many girlfriends because I repair their television sets," with the big snaggly tooth smile.
There was a stairway to upstairs and beyond that a dining room where I ate my breakfast alone and no other meals the whole time I was there. My breakfast consisted of two eggs fried, I believe. Some rice bread that couldn't complete with wheat bread, and coffee heavily dosed with cream and sugar. I normally drank it black, but conceded to the ways of the countries I was in. When I refused to drink the expensive Poland Water that Vitoon bought for me because I never drank water in those days, only coffee, soft drinks and juices, he got quite angry. I was surprised that he didn't know my habits by then, but he thought in his country with all of the heat and humidity that I would need water that was pure. I agree with that, but I just didn't drink water. I hope he used it to make my coffee.
I spent ten days in Thailand the first time. I wanted to see every wat, temple and Buddha. Vitoon would take me to a shrine, and then rest in the car while I climbed the steps and tried to decipher the intricate murals on the walls. The Thai have a good way to gild their statues of Buddha. The statues are originally made of concrete, stone, wood, or cast metal. Worshipers entering the temple to burn incense and pray bring small squares of gold leaf to rub on to the Buddha. After many years, each Buddha becomes completely covered in gold leaf.
At first, Vitoon took me to downtown to show me around. He would leave me at one place, and then go off and do his business for a few hours and then return to pick me up where we agreed. He dropped me at the Royal Palace the first morning. The palace was where all of the kings of Thailand lived up until the latest king. He was relatively young and quite powerful, having recently put down student protest the year before before brutally with the massacre of some students. He lived in other quarters near the government buildings that weren't accessible to the public. The king personally granted degrees to graduates of Thai universities. Vitoon had received his bachelor's degree from the king.
The Palace was a sprawling group of structures that contained many rooms with varying architecture and exotic furnishings, depending upon the time it was occupied. The one room that was so different was a room from the 1890s that was completely filled with gifts from Queen Victoria. There were globes about 5 feet in diameter, elephant tusks, whole stuffed animals like zebras and gazelles. Showing off the bounty of her empire of colonies. The buildings were all joined together. Along the outside on a covered walkway was painted the entire history of the country. As I recall, it was very long, over 300 yards or more, with intricate painting of scenes by many artists right up to the present time.
I recall we arrived at a park in that historic district. Vitoon complained in disgust, "American hippies came here and had sex in the park." And then, we came to the corner of the campus of Thammasat University where the massacre had occurred. I was always interested in universities and toured many. But as I started from the corner on a walkway going into the interior, a man came up and stopped me. Waving me off with an ugly look on his face. While students were coming and going, foreigners were definitely off-limits.
Vitoon took me to the central market on the Chao Phraya River where many boats had pulled up, bringing food from all over Thailand. He told me to stay while he went down a narrow aisle to get something. Apparently he didn't want me to see the variety of meat offered. There was a lot of candied pineapple and citrus that was crawling with flies and every part of many animals, birds, snakes and lizards clearly displayed for sale, maggots included. The markets there were certainly exotic and interesting.
Our first trip out of town was to see a girlfriend south of Bangkok. As we approached her town, Ratchaburi, there rose up ahead a huge golden pagoda stupa reaching about six stories high and clearly seen from a long way off. We drove to it and then to the storefront home of the girlfriend. She was young and beautiful and they traded something. I don't recall exactly what it was. We ate some watermelon and came back to Bangkok. We didn't return again, although we drove through there later on the way to Hue Hin.
One morning, we went to the contemporary buildings of the university where Vitoon taught and was director of all of the technology programs in the country. There I met Samboon, a professor in one of the departments I don't remember and also his girlfriend. She was middle-aged and quite frail from surgeries she had. But a very nice person to be with. What I remember most while there was as we were entering elevators on the nicely landscaped grounds, chickens were running around everywhere.
Weekends, we traveled throughout the country. First we went to Sri Racha, Chol Buri, and Patayya southeast of Bangkok on the Gulf of Siam to see Vitoon’s sister and the resorts that catered mostly to Europeans. The beaches were shaded by palms and beach squatters catered to every need as we watched incredible sunsets over the water.
At a compound where a relative lived, a fence made of concrete piers and barbed wire fifteen feet high ran along the back of the house in the back of a small subdivision sparsely populated with houses. Behind the houses it was open, with a few trees in the distance. A short while later, a herd of a dozen elephants appeared close behind the houses, and I realized the need for the fence. One elephant had huge tusks that reached to the ground, and then curved up another six feet or so. It may have been the oldest Asian elephant I have ever seen. At Sri Racha, there was a small island connected to the beach by a short bridge. The island jutted high up out of the sea. We visited the highest point, inhabited by a Buddhist Monastery with intricate walkways. The monks had monkeys on leashes.
On the road, a bus had stopped so that children could taunt some monkeys. I was told they were dangerous. On the way back, we passed a young boy astride a huge water buffalo galloping down the highway shoulder toward us. I wished I'd had a movie camera to catch the scene.
In Bangkok, the Thai were busy filling in their famous canals. You could still go down to the center of town to the Chao Phraya River and take a long-tailed taxi to your home if it was on a canal. Driven by 4 cylinder automobile engines and transmissions balanced on a pivoting support, with a long propeller shaft reaching rearward to the water, these 40 foot long, wooden taxis were driven fast and skillfully by their drivers.
As I took the taxi to Samboon's house I marveled at how easily little old ladies jumped in and out of the boats on their way to and from market. I needed help to get in and out. The ideal Thai home is half in the water and many bathe every day from the docks that line the banks. Unfortunately, many of the homes' bathrooms empty into the same water under the houses.
Vitoon had to meet someone at the College of Education. It was in a particularly busy part of town, but there was a bridge over an old canal that had not been filled in yet. As heavy traffic passed by behind me, I watched from the bridge the murky water below. Every once in a while, a creature from the deep, perhaps 4 feet long and at least 8 inches in diameter, would surface. A type of catfish I assumed, gulping air as though it were breathing.
Out in the suburbs, the Cambodian and Laotian refugees were camped by the bayous and eking out food by gathering shrimp and perhaps, small shellfish. To see large fish like this in the middle of the city seemed out of place, but then again, perhaps these fish were sacred and never caught or eaten in one of the Buddhist traditions. Amazing to see, however.
By this time, Thai food was starting to get to me. Vitoon declared that he was rich, so we ate out at sidewalk cafes far and wide. I loved the fresh fish, fried cucumber, and miniature corn. But the spices and mint in the meat made it hard to eat, sometimes. But there were always stray dogs and cats begging underfoot that made eating out interesting. And there always was the pint of Mekong whiskey that Vitoon bought every evening to help the food go down.
The heat was a factor too. Even with a Siberian cold front, the nighttime temperature rarely dropped below eighty-five. I had Kik's room upstairs and would lie awake for hours watching the small gecko that parked in the middle of the screen over my head until I finally went to sleep. It was supposed to be really miserable in the April-May rainy season, when it rained every day and the humidity was so high that wet things wouldn't dry. I'm glad I missed that.
I had to buy my tickets home and had secured a cashier's check for $1000 to do it. Unfortunately, there was only one Chase Manhattan bank in Bangkok and it was an all morning drive to get there. When we finally arrived, they charged me 6% to cash the check. I learned my lesson. My American Express travelers checks had no charge for cashing and were accepted by corner stores all around town.
I was fortunate for having Vitoon's travel agent friend. Once again, he got me discount tickets for an excursion to Dacca, Bangladesh and my flights home to San Francisco via Philippine Airlines and my cross-country flight from San Francisco to Philadelphia on United Airlines.
Thailand is a vast and varied country with several subcultures. We drove to the Ancient City, a replica of the country. On the east side of the park along the Mekong River is an eight story manmade mountain, representing a sacred site. Although a bit run down, the park was a tribute to Thai resourcefulness and concern for preserving their culture.
Restaurants often had a theme. That day was no exception. At noon we ate at a floating one that featured thousands of ravenous fish that ate everything we didn't. That evening we went to a restaurant on a pier, a relic of the Vietnam War. A sign in English at the entrance proclaimed, "You can afford to eat here!" Meant for GIs that were no longer coming for R&R. The featured attraction was the gulls that occupied the place like cats and dogs haunted the sidewalk cafes.
On the way back to Bangkok about 9 pm, the Fiat 124 stopped on the road. Two young men on bicycles brought some gasoline in a bag, but that wasn't the problem. A policeman went and got four mechanics on two bicycles, but it was getting late. I was grateful for tall reeds by the road where I went to relieve myself several times while we waited. It was getting dark, and Vitoon worried about getting home before the ten o'clock curfew.
Samboon motioned to me and said, "Follow me."
We caught a small Datsun pickup with seats on the sides of the bed that was used for public transportation. The locals stared at us, clearly uncomfortable riding with this white man and his Thai lady. Samboon did not explain. After a couple of miles, we came to a bus station. There, we boarded a bus driven by a driver who viewed himself as a jet pilot, accompanied by a beautiful young stewardess who sent signals and kept on her feet in a kind of balancing dance as we careened through the streets at a high rate of speed. I was glad that we got on at a station, because I never would have made it on the bus in the streets.
We would race other buses and cars, and then slam to a stop. The girl would grab an old lady and pull her on the bus and take the fare in the same motion, blow a whistle, and the driver would waltz up through the gears as the passenger struggled to get to a seat. At times we hit 70 to 80 miles per hour on city streets, and the whole bus would become airborne on the arched canal bridges. As we got deeper into the city, he slowed down. Perhaps he feared the police. Perhaps the other bus he was racing was no longer on the route. I was relieved. No longer hanging on for dear life.
We got off the bus at the end of the line and boarded another, larger truck for a few more miles to the center city. Then, Samboon hailed a cab that took us to her house. I spent the night sleeping on a mat on the wood floor of her sitting room, fighting mosquitoes because the room had no screens, only shutters. A smoke coil in the room didn't do much good. In the morning, Vitoon was furious. While Samboon was saving me from the indignity of being caught out after curfew, he had the car running with a set of new ignition points fifteen minutes after we left on our wild survey of Bangkok public transportation.
Perhaps Vitoon was angry because I had to catch my flight to Bangladesh that morning…
Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
1/29/21
