The Dome and Leroy

Left the CM a couple days ago, and spent a night yesterday at The Dome. I liked it enough to consider staying a while, and decided on a 3 month stay for $280 per month, which takes the prize for lowest rent I have paid in my lifetime. So here I am finally settled somewhere. I discovered that there was a guest already staying in my room - a gecko I have named Leroy. I had never seen one before and had to look it up on the interwebs to make sure it was harmless, as I remembered reading a travel blogger's night in Honduras spent with a black scorpion prancing in the room. The gecko being harmless, and cute, I can see myself having hours of entertainment watching it walk and skip on the walls and ceiling.

This morning, 30 minutes before sunrise, I went for a run along the gates of Chiang Mai. A couple of years ago this would not be news, but seeing as I have not run in 3 or 4 months, it was a big deal for me to actually feel the need to get out and move with the wind. I was having trouble believing how I felt - strong, both in lungs and legs, it was a fucking kick ass run! After 3 miles I could feel my legs getting fatigued, but hey, no problem, it was a rocking 3 miles, passing the morning markets and robed, barefoot monks chanting and asking for food, feeling in tune with my surroundings. I felt great after and on a whim bought a new pair of running shoes to last me the 3 months I am here. I plan to run every other day at dawn, working my way up to passing all of the gates, I am guessing it is 6 miles, so I should be able to get there after a month of trying.

Now that I no longer have to dedicate time and energy to thinking about where to lay my head at night, I am beginning to plan how to spend my days. The image is similar to how it has always been - focus and work on activities which interest me, and see what happens. Running, photographing, wandering, meditating, visiting temples for dharma talks, thinking, reading, and if I can find a guitar, jammin' the blues, which I sorely miss. Tonight I was craving my strat, wanting to turn up the volume on the amp and play for 2 or 3 hours. I need to buy a guitar!

To show how much of a child I am in this new environment, today I paid the first months rent and deposit, for a total of 20,400 baht. I gave the clerk 21,000 and forgot to ask for my change, and she also forgot to give it to me. I did not realize the gaffe until tonight when I was calculating the daily expenses and found I was 600 baht short. After 10 minutes of reflection I realized what had happened. I am certain there will be more money mistakes in the near future because of the language barrier and my ignorance of cultural details.

Letter to Rachel, II

Dear Rachel,

Sitting at the Free Bird Cafe, a beautiful little place with roaming cats (see one of the pics) which like to keep me company. The food is really good, too, I like the red curry soup with brown rice and the yummy fruit smoothie.

I am still not feeling too comfortable, but since it has been only a week I have to say I am doing ok, nothing terrible has happened, and I must admit it is fun to be photographing again, some of the pictures actually seem pretty good. So far I like Chiang Mai, I can walk anywhere, and I found a Tops Supermarket, hallelujah, it was like walking into my beloved Meijer. Upon entering a woman was carving up fresh papaya and said "take some, buy one get one free", so I took two. I will be changing hotels today, I am waiting for check in time as I write this, if I like it I will see about staying a month, the rates are pretty cheap, and it is only a 5 minute walk to Tops. I have been eating some good Pad Thai, cost is under 2 bucks. My day is pretty much wandering about with the camera, napping in the afternoon, editing pictures at night, and writing in cafes. I pretty much stay to myself, just like usual, I think that is how I stay out of trouble, haha.

Yesterday I was photographing on the mote as the sun was rising and a monk came up to me and said something which I did not understand, then opened his alms bowl, I looked inside and recognized nothing. I had no food to give so I threw in a few Baht, then the monk bowed and chanted a prayer. Later in the day I wandered into a couple wots, they are fantastic, lots of interesting temple buildings and old trees, and a peace which makes me feel at ease. I plan to go to one which has Dharma talks for the public.

Glad you are doing good, and happy to know Florence has taken to my training ;)

Here are some more pics, sorry if I send repeats, not sure which ones I sent to you already. Feel free to forward them to your dad. Still need to get his letter posted....

Wandering Around Chiang Mai

Monks, Guitars, and Cats

Last Morning at the Pagoda Inn

Stern Buddha

Free Bird Cafe

Elephant and Cat

Doing Laundry at the CM

I wrote a post card to Rick this afternoon and one of the things I mentioned was how time and experience have reversed positions. In Urbana, time is a heavy factor because experience is a repeating process of the same routines and thought patterns. But on the road, in a foreign country, time becomes insignificant in relation to the sensual experiences which flak the mind - everything is new, the only routine being no routine. I sometimes wondered why as a child a summer vacation from school would seem like a year, but when I got to be 30 years old a summer seemed much shorter. A week on the road has revealed the answer - everything was so new and fresh when I was 12, and although I had routines, there were too many things which were making their presence known for the first time to my eyes and mind. As I got older there were less and fewer things which I had not seen, and my mind compensated by dwelling within itself - time became heavy with emptiness. Throwing myself into something so bizarre and unknown this week, I became a child again, the density of an experienced mind giving way to the pleasures and terrors of the senses.

I left the Pagoda Inn this morning, having made a reservation online for a place called the CM Apartments, a few blocks down the road. I sit now in my bed at the CM, a perfect room in a way, all white, no pictures, a few pieces of furniture, a balcony (with a chain link fence covering the opening so that nobody falls over the low wall!). The CM is located on a small cobbled soi in the old part of the city, all sorts of interesting shops, stalls, massage joints, restaurants. 250m down the road is a place called the Free Bird Cafe. I stopped in this afternoon and sat in a shaded garden eating red curry soup filled with brown rice, and drinking a passion fruit lassi. A cat came wandering over and jumped on the table and kept me company as I ate and wrote postcards.

The price of the CM is expensive in relation to other places around, but this is the busy season and places are hard to get, so I shelled out 950 baht for a night, and decided I may as well stay 2 nights, so I will be here tomorrow, and maybe longer, as I feel a need to be settled somewhere, even if its only for a few nights. Meanwhile I have been sending out emails to places which accept long term stays. I have an appointment to see The Dome, if I stay a month it will cost $350, which isn't that cheap, but once again, it is because of the season. It still beats my Urbana rent of $550 plus utilities, so if I like the place I may end up staying there a month.

This morning I got up before dawn and wandered the streets with my camera. I saw orange clad monks walking with alms bowls, and just as the sun came up I passed a restaurant called Nice Kitchen. I stopped in and was the first customer, I ordered a banana pancake and a strawberry smoothie and wrote a letter to Rachel. As I was leaving the owner said "come back soon".

Before checking in at the CM this afternoon, I wandered around Chiang Mai with my full pack, and I came across a row of shops selling second hand guitars. I stopped in one store and strummed a few chords. I miss playing guitar, especially jamming the blues. If I end up staying somewhere for a month, I will plan to buy a guitar and practice while I am here, then sell it back when I leave.

Lost in Bangkok, Part II, Letter to Rachel

Chiang Mai, Sunrise 4

Pagoda Inn

Chiang Mai, Market at Sunrise

Chiang Mai, Sunrise 1

Chiang Mai, Sunrise 2

Relaxing at the Pagoda Inn

Dear Rachel,

Sitting in the “Nice Kitchen” vegetarian breakfast cafe, the sun is coming up, and I watch monks in orange robes wandering the streets with their alms bowls. The air is pleasantly cool, about 60 degrees, and I have just ordered a banana, cinnamon, raisin pancake with a strawberry smoothie. I declined the tea because I do not know the source of their water. So far I have not felt ill, although my sleep patterns are still adjusting. Last night was the first time I went to bed at dark and rose with with the sun.

Sorry for not writing sooner, I actually wrote a letter to your father while in Bangkok, although I have yet to find a post office to send it off.

I just received my smoothie and it appears to be filled with ice, so I guess it is hard to avoid drinking the water here, probably a stupid move on my part. So far I have always carried water with me, and yesterday I went to an Indian restaurant and had saag paneer and drank from my own water bottle.

I left Bangkok after two days because it was very hot (100 degrees), the air was polluted, the traffic insanely dense, and the parts of the city I visited were not friendly to pedestrians. My hotel was awesome, but getting around was hard because the streets are a tangle of circles, squares and other shapes and on my first walk I got lost after 30 minutes and wandered about for an hour more, sweating profusely, and finally gave in and got into a taxi, who also got lost and dropped me off two blocks from my hotel, and I almost got lost again trying to find my way there.

The next day I tried walking to the subway station 1 mile away, but got lost again, and had to take a cab. I got off the subway at Sukhimvit Rd and it was one of the most unpleasant walks ever. I was carrying my full pack (35 pounds), it was 100 degrees again, the traffic was worse than the previous day, and I ended up in Ultra marathon mode, one step in front of the other. When I had to take an overpass to cross a busy road, I was thankful that I had been walking up and down the hill at the arboretum for the month prior to my leaving. After 1 mile of the walk from hell, I got into another cab and told him to take me to Lumphini Park, the biggest green splatch of crayon on the map. I was hoping to find a respite from the exhaust fumes and noise, and when I got out of the cab was disappointed to see a large statue of a military man surrounded by a large circular tract of concrete slabbing. However, after passing the concrete and statue, I went through the gates to the park and was greeted with silence and clean air. The park was large with ponds and old trees and many pedestrian paths. I found a bench in the shade and poured water over my head to cool down. I sat there in blissful terror for about 45 minutes. Bliss because the present was finally something to my liking, and terror because I had no idea where I was headed. I had checked out of my hotel with no real plan. I was hoping to find a hotel closer to the city center, but the city was too hard to navigate on foot, and I found nothing which looked acceptable. As I sat on the bench I remembered seeing a subway station entrance next to the military statue. I knew from my first ride that the final stop was Hua Lamphong, which is where the train station is located. I decided to ride the subway to Hua Lamphong and find the train station and then maybe buy a ticket to Chiang Mai. I was not very happy at the moment and decided getting out of Bangkok would be the best thing. After arriving at Hua Lamphong I discovered the train station was connected by underground tunnel, so I easily walked into the terminal and located the information desk and decided to buy a ticket for the 18:10 train to Chaing Mai, 2nd class sleeper, only $25. It was noon, so I had 6 hours to wait. The station was packed, and I decided to ride the subway back to the park. I wandered around as best I could (still carrying a 35 pound pack, hello Meijer!) and then a thunderstorm rolled into the city and I found a stone bench with a canvas overhang to wait it out, along with a Chinese family of 4 who were on holiday. One hour later the rain stopped, and it cooled things down, although now my clothes were damp and my shoes soaked (which later led them to stink profusely). I wandered to the floating island and photographed large lizard-like creatures, and then I hopped on the subway back to the train station. After waiting pleasantly in the cool hall for 2 hours, I boarded the train and had a pleasant enough 16 hour journey. I got off the train the next morning and was greeted to cool mountain air and a row of cab men calling to me and the other disembarked passengers. “Where to go my sir?” “I don't know”. “You come with me, I take you”. “Ok”. So I follwed the cab driver to his vehicle, but rather than a cab, it was a tuk tuk. From my travel readings, tuk tuks are not a good deal, and usually a scam is involved, so before getting on the tuk tuk I asked to negotiate a rate, and we agreed upon 60 baht (2 bucks). I am happy to say the driver was friendly and no scams were involved, although he did hand me a laminated brochure for a guest house. I got off just outside the gates of the city center and wandered backwards down a quiet soi, and found a beautiful oasis called K.Thip Village, but the price was too high, so I sat in the grass outside the lodge and read my map. I got up and within a block found the Pagoda Inn guesthouse and settled on a room for $16 /night. The room is nice enough, and the hotel itself has a pleasing eastern ambiance of stone steps and foot bridges. I have huge windows on the 2nd floor, but they look out upon the green garden terrace, and thus anyone can easily look up into my room. The bathroom has a seat and a place for toilet paper, but no paper, the shower had no hot water (and later discovered the drain was clogged), and some of the appliances did not work (fridge, light fixtures). The first thing I did was ask the manager about the paper and he gave me a puzzled look, saying I could buy some down the road. So I took off down the road, exploring and in search of T.P. I found a 7/11 and bought some T.P. and also a pair of scissors to cut my hair, and some shaving gel. I had a pleasant walk through the old city, the small cobbled sois filled with charm and character. Feeling famished (the train gave me the sorriest breakfast - 2 pieces of stale toast and an orange sugar drink - 100 baht) I stopped at an Indian restaurant and filled up, but the saag Panner was like the food in Bloomington, heavy in oil, so I ate only half, but total cost for that and naan was 90 baht, a much better deal than the train :)

Later in the day, back in my room, I showered (they fixed the hot water valve, but the clogged drain made me get out of the shower after 5 minutes, the bathroom being flooded) and relaxed in bed, booking a night at a place called CM Apartment for the next day. I hope the place is decent, I really just need to unwind and have a nice shower and a clean room and then attack my next goal - finding a place to stay long term for a cheap price ($300-450 per month).

My banana pancake now finished, and half a smoothie drank (if I am going to get sick from it, drinking half is probably better than drinking it all), I will end my letter from the “Nice Kitchen”...

Love,

C.T.T. (Calm and Terrified Traveler)

Train to Chiang Mai

Train to Chiang Mai

In a waiting rail car
low setting sun coloring
the platform and the sides of cars
beer can emptied
and my senses full of light
- the dread of the unknown!

In a waiting rail car
people talk
and are happy.
I read a book
of philosophy,
I too am secure
in the thoughts
and emotions -
an instinct that all
will come out right.

In a waiting rail car
ready to move out into
the space of a
darkened sun -
so many ways to live
only one way to die.

In a waiting rail car
low setting sun coloring
the platform and the sides of cars
I am lost in the world
- Chiang Mai awaits.

Bangkok in the Rain

Sitting in the Hua Lamphong Railway Station in Bangkok. Two days in Bangkok shattered my mind's composure - heat, smog/pollution, language, and my inability to navigate the streets on foot led me to the decision to buy a train ticket to Chiang Mai. The motor traffic is not like anything I have seen - scooters equal the number of cars, and I have to be acutely aware of my surroundings to avoid being hit. Many of the streets do not have sidewalks, and the one's which do are so jarring and in your face that it all seems like a twisted pedestrian nightmare. Adding to the cacophony is the occasional presence of touts. One approached me today as I walked the horridly hot and sticky Sukhimvit Rd. After asking if I needed a taxi, he wanted to know if I wanted to visit a tailor shop. I smiled and told him I was just wandering around and did not need a ride. He knew the game was up and he graciously relented his attack.

Having no luck finding a hotel in the morning, I decided to jump into a cab and told him to drive to Lumphini Park. On the Bangkok map it is the largest area of green space, and I needed to get away from the noise and fumes. The 15 minute ride cost only $1.75, and the first thing I saw was a large statue of a military hero, surrounded by a round about of concrete, with a MRT subway station adjacent. I walked by and saw the gate to the park, and within a few minutes the noise and stink subsided and I was surrounded by lush green and wide pedestrian-only pathways. I began to feel better, although the weight of my full pack made it difficult to enjoy the slow pace of my sauntering. I found a bench in the shade and stretched my legs out after pouring water over my head. My mood began to improve and after an hour of reflection decided to take the subway to Hua Lumphong Station and purchase the ticket to Chiang Mai. After departing the subway I was pleased to discover a connection tunnel to the train station. After walking about lost for a bit, I found the information desk and decided to buy a 2nd class sleeper ticket on the 18:10 train, cost being 780 baht ($25.00).

After buying the ticket at noon, I had 6 hours to spend, so I decided take the subway back to Lumphini Park and wander around a bit more. After 45 minutes a rain storm blew into the city, cooling the air. I found a group of stone tables with large canvas overhangs, so I sat at the table as the rain fell heavily. A Chinese family on holiday were at the table next to mine, and for 40 minutes we stood watching the rain and lightning. After the skies cleared I walked to the floating island marveling at how beautiful the park is.

Now it is almost 5:00 pm and the air in the station is cool enough for me to need a jacket. I am trying to adjust to my new mode of living on the road, all of my belongings stuffed into a pack at my feet.

Lost in Bangkok, Part I

Touched down into Thailand without much trouble, however getting out of customs caused a slight panic attack. I wasn't sure what I needed to show the immigration officer, so when I got into the long line I held onto my passport and the white immigration card marked “Arrival”. After a 30 minute wait in line I confidently handed over my documents and expected to be waved through, since I had not seen any of hundreds of people going through (there were 15-20 lines with 30-40 people in each) be turned back. However, my heart began to race when the officer asked me where my white departure card was. I told him I was not aware I had to fill it out since I was arriving into Bangkok. He told me I needed to fill it out, so I told him I would and he asked me to leave the same way I had come. I felt my face become flushed with embarrassment, because as I said, I had not seen any of the hundreds of people filing through have to turn around and walk back to the arrival gates. I imagined the people waiting in line, seeing me refused entry into Thailand, thinking I must be some kind of crazy criminal.

I tried to compose myself, and found a bench to sit upon. I was quite hot, as the airport did not have good air conditioning, and I still had my jacket on, so I pulled it off, and was happy to find the white departure immigration card stuffed into my travel folder. I took my time filling it in, then walked back to the long line. I waited another 30 minutes, and even though my jacket was off, I was beginning to feel awful, and I felt my mind collapsing into a state of paranoia and panic, most likely due to the large crowd of people, not having slept in 24 hours, and the extreme heat. My muscles were becoming tense, my face was still flushed, and I just wanted to lock myself into a quiet, dark room and fall asleep. When I finally reached the immigration officer, he looked over my documents, and then asked where I had flown in from, because the arrival flight number I had written did not match any on his list. I explained I had come in from Hong Kong, via the 10:00pm flight on Cathay Pacific. “No, the flight you listed does not exist.” I sensed I was now taking longer in line than most , my face became further flushed, I was starting to overheat, and my paranoia grew stronger. I was reminded of one of my days in Paris, when everything seemed to go wrong. The officer asked for my boarding pass, and I handed it to him, but he did not like that I had printed it from the internet. I explained to him that it is possible to print one's own boarding pass, and that the airline had accepted it, and I showed him the scan box which made it an official boarding pass. He told me that it was not correct. I pointed to the bold lettering “BOARDING PASS” on the top of the printout. He once again told me it was not correct. My heart began to race and I was close to hyperventilating. The image of me being stranded in the BKK airport was not a pleasant one, and I recalled the film starring Tom Hanks of the man who lived in an airport due to immigration troubles. The officer explained that the pass I had given to him was from Chicago to Hong Kong. I told him yes, that is right, I went from Chicago to Hong Kong, then Hong Kong to Bangkok. He told me he needed to see the boarding pass for Hong Kong to Bangkok. I then understood that I had filled out the arrival form incorrectly, using the flight number from Chicago to Hong Kong. I could not understand how I could make such a mistake, since I was being careful with all of my steps. I decided it was due to being exhausted, and the large amount of details that my mind was having to process in a short amount of time. By now I had taken twice as long as most people, and I was aware of holding up the people behind me. I tried to remain calm, all I needed to do was find the correct boarding pass. I took my backpack off my shoulders, placed it on the ground, unzipped, pulled out the travel folder, and after going through the documents twice could not find the boarding pass. Had I thrown it out? I could not remember throwing it out, it had to be here. I was about to tell the officer I could not find it, and that I was going to have to turn around and leave to look for it, then get into line again. But I really did not want to have to turn around, I still had not seen anyone else being turned back, and I was about to do the walk of shame for a second time. I had seen children pass merrily through, and here I was bumbling around without a clue. I decided to look once more through the folder, and was relieved to find the boarding pass stuck between papers toward the back. I tried to slow my breathing down as I handed him the correct boarding pass. He looked it over, signed a form, stamped my passport, and waved me through.

While I felt a strong sense of relief as I now walked on the correct side of immigration under the bright neon of the airport, my mind was stuck in a state of tired confusion and paranoia. This was not good because there still remained important tasks to complete before I could get some much needed rest. I began to wander aimlessly around, feeling out of place. The next task was to find an ATM and get Thai Baht. I saw many brightly lit “Money Exchange” booths. An ATM had to be somewhere, and after walking back and forth a few times I stopped at one of the booths and asked where the nearest ATM was. She pointed and I saw one 5 feet from me. My face turned red and I tried to laugh as I thanked her, but I was beginning to worry about my ability to process detailed information. I was confronted with a machine I was unfamiliar with, and I struggled to get my bank card out of the money belt (first time using a money belt). If there were any thieves around I would be the perfect target - confused and in a foreign country. I could see myself giving in to anything in such a confused state. I was still feeling the embarrassment of the immigration check through as I slid the card into the machine, and felt the card being pulled from my fingers. I prayed that one, the card would not be blocked, and two, the machine would spit the card out after I had completed the transaction. I was hoping to take 10,000 baht, but the most it offered was 5000 ($170). There was an option for “other”, but since it was written in Thai, I was not certain if it really said “other”, so I decided to be safe and get 5000. The machine spitted out 5 X 1000 baht notes, and thankfully my card. I knew that I had to break down the notes, so I decided to ask the girl at the booth, even though I was still embarrassed about having to ask her where an ATM machine was. She gracefully took the bills and counted out the money. I had never seen baht notes and I knew that if she shorted me I would not catch it in time to complain. I took the notes and decided to walk off without counting, because if I counted I knew I would stand there a long time looking confused. After walking 10 feet I stopped and counted the money as best I could, knowing that I could be clearly seen by anyone, and trying to remember if I was still in possession of everything important (calm mind, no!) My passport was in my right front pocket (wrong place), one of the compartments of my money belt was unzipped, and as I looked at the bills, I could not read the amounts, they appeared to be written in Thai script. I then located a numeral I could recognize, in small print, written sideways, and after counting the bills reading the sideways numbers, appeared that I was still in possession of 5000 baht. As I stuffed the notes in my wallet, I realized that I had forgotten to take the receipt from the ATM. I tried to recall what kind of personal information is on a receipt, and knew that someone would see my bank acct balance and how much I had withdrawn, but nothing hopefully which would give them access to my account.

I needed to find a taxi and recalled from a guidebook that there was a taxi desk on the first floor. I was not certain what floor I was on, but guessed it was floor two, and decided to go down the escalator. I saw a sign for limousine services, but decided that was not the taxi desk. I walked out the door of the airport and felt the muggy hot air mixed with exhaust fumes blow across my face. Large groups of people stood around, and everyone seemed to know what they were doing and where they were going. I felt lost and confused, and did not see a taxi desk anywhere. Unsure what to do, I decided to stand still and look like I was waiting for someone so as to not attract attention. After standing for a few minutes I started to wander about aimlessly, and by good fortune happened upon the taxi desk. They called me over, looked at the address and map I had in my hand, and I was soon sitting in an air conditioned taxi, watching a landscape pass which looked similar to the west side of Chicago - super highways, crumbled old buildings, and sign boards haphazardly appearing. I leaned back, awaiting my soon to be much needed sleep.

Chinese New Year in Hong Kong...

1/22/11

Sitting in an airport lounge awaiting the departure of my flight to Hong Kong/Bangkok.

Arose at 5:00am this morning and Rachel was kind enough to drive me to the Champaign Terminal. Bus was 15 minutes late, but the ride went smoothly. While waiting for the bus to arrive I saw a man who I hiked with at the Sierra Club Lake Mingo outing. I tested my backpack for the first time that day, loading it with a few soup cans. This morning he was with his wife, they were taking the bus to Milwaukee for a ski outing.

When I departed the bus in Chicago in front of Union Station a homeless man thrust a newspaper into my hand and asked for money, and I sensed that I must no longer possess the look of a jaded city creature. When I first lived in Chicago in 1992 I was constantly approached by homeless people, but after the first year the occurrences happened less frequently. My fresh, eager eyes thus giving me away, I made a rookie mistake of taking out my wallet so that I could hand the man a dollar. I knew it was a stupid move, but instead of the guy grabbing the wallet from my cold hand, he simply asked for more, telling me he needed a place to stay for the night, and that his name was Paul, flashing a grin which showed a few missing teeth. I obliged and gave him another dollar, knowing I had much money to burn through, and here was someone who did not know where he would be sleeping later in the day. He thanked me and I began looking for the Clinton Stop on the Blue Line. I knew it was 3 blocks from where I stood but I had forgotten the direction I was supposed to walk. After walking 30 yards I decided I was going the wrong way and turned back to where I had started, seeing Paul once again. He turned to me and asked if I was heading to the Blue Line, and I felt as if a neon sign flashing “dumb tourist”was pasted to my forehead. I nodded a smile and he told me I was walking in the wrong direction. “Follow me”, he implored, and I started to follow him, aware I was making yet another rookie mistake. We passed the front of Union Station and I remembered I needed to stop there to pee. Seeing a way to extricate myself from a stupid situation, I told Paul I needed to use the bathroom and was going into the Great Hall. “Oh man, you got to piss, there is a port o potty right over there”, and I watched his hand point away from the towering stone columns of the station. A cold, desolate port o potty was indeed there, but I decided I had to put an end to the charade, and said “I'm going into the Great Hall”, and began to walk to the doors. I dejectedly saw each of the doors I passed posted with a closed sign, and with Paul right behind me, interjecting “man, look, they are closed now, do you think you can give me some more money, I need $12 dollars for a room?” At that moment I came to a door without a closed sign and pushed through, and felt the warm air of the hall spread across my relieved face. I knew I could not give Paul $12, I had only $7 left in my wallet, and $2 was needed for the Blue Line ticket to the airport. I felt myself grabbing once again for the wallet, knowing that I was doing an incredibly stupid thing, but continued to do so anyways. The wallet in hand now, I gripped it firmly, hoping that if he made a grab I could manage to keep it within my grasp. I quickly pulled out a $5 bill and handed it to him, smiling, with a “take care, man,” and turned to leave, detecting perhaps a look of disappointment upon his face.

Alone now, I walked through the great hall, found the john, and as I pissed began to silently laugh, recalling that I was proud for having purchased a bus ticket to Chicago for $3.50, and having somehow just now avoided a serious mishap. I zipped up, determined to find the Clinton Blue Line Station with a somewhat jaded expression painted in my eyes.

Two Days

For the past 3 weeks I have been house sitting for Rachel while she treks across southern Africa. I have continued to prepare for my own imminent adventures - reading books, studying maps, researching the internet. All of my belongings are stored in Rachel's basement, and soon I will be without a home, very few belongings, with thoughts and feelings which are fueled by the new and unusual. In two days I will begin my Journey to the East.

Yesterday I was looking through my travel checklist, and was surprised to find that everything is finally complete. The only thing left to do is organize my backpack, which I began doing yesterday. I am confident that all of the things I plan to bring will fit, but am unsure if the weight of the pack will be allowed as a carry on. The class of ticket I purchased states that the max weight is 15 pounds!? However, I am allowed to bring a 2nd, smaller bag onto the plane. The total weight of my pack is 25-30 pounds, so both packs should be under the 15 lb max weight. Rachel, who came home a couple of days ago, told me the check-in staff won't bother to weigh the packs, so I am hoping that is true, as I would hate to check a bag due to the dishonest and careless people who work in baggage handling.

My flight leaves Chicago on Sunday, Jan 22, at 2:20pm, and will make a short layover in Hong Kong. I will then board another plane and arrive in Bangkok at 11:50pm on Jan 23. I reserved a hotel for a couple of nights in an out of the way place a few miles outside the city center. After recovering from the long flight I will decide what to do next. I am hoping to rent a place for a month in Bangkok, as I am interested in exploring the city with my legs and camera.

My emotions are fairly steady, but at times throughout the day I feel a mix of adrenalin and terror, caused by the soon-to-be plunge into an unknown land and culture.