Welcome to Thailand

Saturday, December 22, 2007
Welcome to Thailand

My 11 hour flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo was what you would call... long. I knew it would be a lengthy flight when the Boulderite hippie, with his long, stringy, red hair and unkempt beard started to hum, chant, sing—whatever it was—just high enough to hear and low enough to be annoying. I fell quickly asleep but was soon awakened after an hour or so by a kick to the lower back. I could feel both knees pressed firmly against my back.
I was already exhausted by the frantic morning; we had bombed down I-70 to the airport in a mere 20 minutes from downtown, quite a feat—I can attest that my brother is checking his temper better than ever. Then I had run through the terminal to the gate like OJ.
I assumed my crooked-neck sleep for another 30 minutes before I felt a hand pull hardily on the back of my chair. Said hippie needed to get up, and not wanting to disturb the petite Japanese girls next to him as he crawled over them ever so gently, he yanked on my chair. I flew up out of the seat trying to figure out where I was. There needs to be a video just after the safety video that states how people should get out of their seats without disturbing the passenger in front of them. This is quite an amazing spectacle as I've witnessed this and been subjected to this numerous times. What is it that people can't just get up out of their seats, use their seat to get up, maybe even use their armrest to get out of their seats? I mean, even the people on the aisle use this gawd awful technique. Do these people not realize that there is actually someone in the seat in front of them? These are the same people that drag their over sized luggage down the aisle, hitting everyone's knees, rolling over their feet and then trying to pick up the dead yak they've carried on, dropping the corner of the suitcase on the guy below them, not saying, "sorry, excuse me," or even acknowledging that they've just dropped 150 pounds on someone. Then of course, everyone watches them as they try to find an angle to push this behemoth of a bag into the tiny space above. You know when these people were little children they tried to fit the square block into the triangle hole and wouldn't give up until they completely hammered it dumb to fit.
As it was, I fell back to sleep only to wake in time to watch Santa Clause 3 and The Simpsons. What a Christmas treat!
I landed in Tokyo on Thursday at 4:30pm (remember I left at 6am on Wednesday) and had an hour layover before boarding the 7 1/2 hour flight to Bangkok. I walked in circles the entire time trying to tire myself out. The flight to Bangkok was better and uneventful. I arrived in Bangkok at midnight and waited in line for an hour before cruising through Customs—the easiest time I’ve ever had with them!
It was now 1:30am, and I thought about getting a hotel room for four hours to shower and rest, but I thought better of it, knowing I'd certainly sleep through my 7am flight to Phuket.
I sat on the only cushioned chair available (most of the other ones were metal), plopped down next to Adam and a sleeping Isabelle. They were Aussie's traveling to Myanmar (Burma for those of you in the Bush administration). They told me about the hassle of border crossing and the excitement of traveling there. I fell asleep on my backpack for an hour before waking to the noise of people checking in for their flights at 5am.
The flight to Phuket was a short hour and a half. I picked up my pack and walked outside where I was hoping to see my name on a sign for a car that I had hired prior to my arrival. No luck, so I chose one of the many taxi drivers that were walking past me, whispering, "Taxi please. Taxi, where you go?"
The driver raced down the "highway" and had me in Khao Lak in about an hour, typically a two-hour drive.
He dropped me off at the Jerung Guesthouse where Liz was waiting for me. So I could get on the right sleep schedule, I stayed up the rest of the day.
We headed directly to the beach, about a quarter mile walk from the main drag and the guesthouse.
Khao Lak is said to be the hardest hit from the tsunami 3 years ago. They have done an amazing job restoring the beachfront. New hotels and bars are going up everywhere. It’s in better shape than ever, replanted palm trees lining the beach.
After just a few minutes in the sun, I needed to hit the shade, having already felt the redness on my shoulders and back. The beach stretches for miles to the north as far as the eye can see, with rocks jutting out of the ocean along the way. To the south, the beach bends towards the ocean where a mountain rises out of the water, reminiscent of a very heavily forested Diamond Head in Hawaii, but not as large.
It's peaceful now, but I met a woman that survived the tsunami. Her boyfriend and his parents perished in the wave. She managed to get entangled in the debris, somehow getting her head out of the water and climbed a tree to survive. She has no recollection of climbing the tree. She had massive cuts on her arm, half her scalp had been opened up, all of her clothes were completely ripped off and she broke her back. She still managed to climb the tree. Since then, she has been back every year to help, but this was her first time back down to the beach. She talked openly about her experience, pointed to the tree where she climbed, "it was over there, but it's been torn down now." As she sat in the sand, looking out into the water (she didn’t go in just yet), her eyes told the frightening story of hope and determination.
As I look out over the water, I am reminded how precious my life is and how lucky I am to be in this place at this time. I take a deep breath and watch the sun sink slowly to the horizon, my favorite time at any beach. The breeze is refreshing. The palms leaves are singing, and I close my eyes for a minute. I smile as Liz says, "Let's go get some curry."
Welcome to Thailand...