ipod after getting toasted at Songkran
Woke at 5:30am and got out the door for a run as the light of a new day was etching itself into the city. I was up and out earlier than usual so I decided to do the 5 mile mote run. I sat in my apartment yesterday and didn't do a darn thing, and it paid off because from the first step I was gliding at a good speed with little effort. Before I knew it the run was over, one of my best yet. During the run I thought of the first mote run, back in early February, and realized just how far my fitness has come in three fast months. I have lost 8-10 pounds, with muscle, fat, and endurance all advancing in the proper direction.
When I got home the time had come to say good bye to my guitar. Two weeks ago the high E string broke, so during that time I have been learning to play 5 string guitar. Surprisingly I did not find it to be a drag. The first few days my fingers continued to press down on the frets of the ghost string, but then stopped soon after, so when I finally get back to my electric it will take a few days to readjust to the usual 6. I am having a hard time understanding why I continue to make decent progress. Some days I don't play at all, and most of the time the sessions are only 1-2 hours, but I was still rewarded with insights and a furthering of skills. One thing which I had not even begun to grasp during my time in Urbana was the wrist turning vibrato which is so critical to the blues sound. Without focusing too much upon it the past few months in Chiang Mai my own style of vibrato has sprung into being, and I am guessing with one more year of practice I will have acquired the ground level skill. Another thing I gained is the ability to slide quickly to any fret, now intuitively mixing the slide and press. Along with those two skills, I tried hard to further my understanding and memory of the pentatonic scale. I no longer see the scale solely as five sets of boxes, but can now visualize the notes on each string. I have learned where the notes are in relation to adjacent strings, so if I know where I am on a string, I can fluidly move to the next string and not lose the pattern. My picking skills have also increased, which in a way startles me because I find picking to be the hardest part of learning the guitar. No matter how gracefully I can fret, if I can't find my way to the correct string with the right hand, it all falls apart. The right hand has to also produce the speed in relation to the rhythm. In a sense I am learning two separate skills - left hand pressing, sliding, vibrating, hammering; and right hand picking and rhythm. Is it any wonder that I have been working with guitar for over two years and have not yet crossed anything more than superficial barriers? I also have been constantly practicing House of the Rising Sun. The song itself is a gem, but another reason I am working it is because it goes beyond the normal 3-4 chord progression of many songs. It is satisfying to find more efficient ways to move between the chords. I can work my way through the song without much finger movement because some of the chord switches allow a finger to remain in place while moving from chord to chord. The F still gives me trouble, but I discovered that if I don't bother with pressing the high E it still sounds good. I have 5 different versions of the song, which I listen to with headphones while playing along. The headphones allow me to hear the bass line more clearly, and therefore zone in on the correct timing of the chord changes. My favorite version is from the Eagles (a band I normally hate) because they skip the lyrics and have a wicked lead. Jimi Hendrix has a fun version, along with him getting off key for a few notes, but unfortunately it is not in the key of A. To summarize, I believe progress is still happening because I am spending time with the instrument - perhaps it is inevitable that I would get to know the guitar simply from being with it and letting the relationship flow where it may. It still requires an effort - to pick it up and work with it, but once the habit is formed it becomes a ride down a lazy summer river, with destination unknown.
I left the apartment, guitar in hand. I found a comfortable way to carry it, head stock facing the sky, which allowed me to pluck the strings with my thumb in rhythm with my stride. When I passed Wat Chedi Luang I had the urge to sit on the small stone bench looking upon the ancient elephant chedi. The wat dogs picked up their ears, a black cat sitting next to a golden Buddha gazed reflectively in my direction, while I created sounds to complement the song birds flitting about in the nearby trees. A man walked by and gave me a thumbs up, then returned a short while later, parsing together a few English words to let me know he needed money for a red truck for a ride home. I gave him 40 baht, and a few minutes later he returned with a friend, saying he also needed 40 baht for a ride home. I handed over another 40, and they thanked me. They were young and wild looking, with fresh tattoos covering the length of their forearms, and a somewhat jaded, yet passionate light which glossed over their dark eyes. When I was content with my guitar farewell, I drank water and then walked to the nearby Free Bird Cafe. The beautiful Burmese chef greeted me with an ebullient, somewhat embarrassed smile. I sat at my normal table and placed the guitar next to the old, 4-stringed blues guitar. I ordered for the last time the red curry soup with brown rice and the blueberry smoothie. Maria walked out from the office for one final talk. I told her what little plans I have (I have given small thought to what lays ahead), and she revealed that in the fall she will be attending Harvard University for her masters. How is it that I can meet and connect with such brilliant people? When I finished my meal I read a bit from Burmese Days and then walked back to the kitchen area to pay the bill. I gave the Burmese chef and waitress a 300 baht tip for all of the good food and service these past few months. They gave me big smiles and then both did a wai. I peeked into Maria's office and said farewell, and was touched that she wanted a hug. Walking out into the high morning heat I felt a sense of loss, but also ready for a new day in a new land. I stopped at Tops to pick up some sushi for the evening, when I was standing at the cashier's counter a man behind me asked if I was Irish. Not having red hair, I wondered why he thought this. I replied I was American, and asked him where he was from. "America, too", he said, and added, "you've got this handsome Irish look to you" he said with a smile. I gave a small laugh and thanked him. I don't think the Irish are known for their good looks, and I know I am lacking in that area, so perhaps it was my glowing fitness which made him think I was Irish?
In two days I will be on a sprinter train travelling south to Bangkok.
Three months in Chiang Mai coming to an end - balcony sunsets, songs of myna birds, running in thick morning heat under cool water of sprinklers, eating pad thai and sushi with a glass bottled Coke from Tops, laying in bed under a mosquito net listening to the rusty squeaking of the night birds - a Chiang Mai farewell.
