Destination Bangkok
I am yet to visit a country whose people are more appalling or loathing than Egyptians, and whose people are less sincere or less friendly than Egyptians. From Lebanon, Greece, France, Italy, United States, and now Thailand, I came by no people who have as ugly a temperament and as dreadful of a character as Egyptians. We lack the will to progress, the energy to work hard, the inability to embrace life, and the passion for independence, to say the least. We either hate someone, envy someone, or do not care about someone, but always, each of us regards himself as the better one. I was hardly surprised when I saw the opposite qualities in the west, but after visiting Bangkok, I realized that we may exclusively posses the worst character traits of all.
Thais, and oh that infectious smiles they carry. It is so infectious, that by the end of my week there, a smile rose on my face in greeting each and every stranger I came by. From street vendors, doormen, waiters to clerks, they all smiled politely and graciously, and as days passed by, the smile carried over. While I had came across the “smile to strangers” concept in Europe and the US, in Thailand, I found it so profound, and on the faces of all Thais I came to talk to, or even had eye-contact with. Raised in a land where the normal behavior toward strangers is to frown upon them; curse onto them; or hit them, it was both refreshing to carry happiness on one’s face, and saddening and disappointing to realize how easy it was to do.
In my first day in Bangkok, I went to visit their most popular historic attractions; namely, the Grand Palace, Wat Phra Kaew and Wat Po. These were, respectively, a complex of buildings that used to be the official residence of Thailand kings, a temple that housed a 45cm tall Buddha figurine, and another temple that housed a Reclining Buddha statue. Their affection to gold was catching, and their attention to detail was hard to miss — from doors, ceilings, to statues — the complexity in detail was very high. What was most impressive however was the Reclining Buddha at Wat Po — a 46 meter long gold-platted statue of Buddha in a space that barely fits it, thus enforcing its shear size.
Walking down the streets of Bangkok, you’d find the official costume of Thai women to be what I called “long legs”. There in Bangkok, women, almost all women, apparently prefer to wear whatever they wear on top, accompanied by a micro-jeap or a micro-short. Whether they are students or seniors, whether they are rich or poor, and whether they sell food on a street stand or in a Mc’Donalds, they all seem to love to show off their legs, which I found a tradition one should not argue against! Besides the shiny legs, how they maintained the cleanliness of the city was bewildering. This was not the first country I visited were I didn’t find trash lying along the sidewalks and in the middle of the streets, like is the case in even the cleanest neighborhoods in Egypt. No, what surprised me was that I only found three trash cans during my entire week. Holding an empty cup and wanting to throw it away was an issue. No trash cans in the streets, not in the markets, not in metro or train stations, not even in the hotel lobby! Do Thais self-dispose, I do not know!
Going inside into the malls, and into Siam Paragon, one huge endless mall, I went to Ocean World; an aquarium. It undoubtedly had fishes, lots of them, lots of them of the weirdest kinds. And while I am not a National Geographic addict, it seemed the inspiration to alien species in Hollywood cinema was not entirely figments of imagination, but rather influenced by those less-familiar sea creatures. The highlight of the visit started with paying extra at the ticket counter to do an “Ocean Walk”, which they described as moving on the bottom of a fish tank, wearing a diving suit. All sounded fun, so I went for it. After paying, they handed me over a waiver in which I signed to take all responsibility for all that happens next. Fine, I said, they must be just protecting themselves. 
About an hour later, I came to see the tank I was supposed to dive into; it was a big one, and it was filled with sharks! I was quickly consolidated however when I learned that my dive would be at 1:30 PM, right after the 1:00 PM shark feeding show. It was a relief, I will get down there after they filled their stomaches, I said to myself. The show didn’t make me feel better though. It was accompanied by a Jaws-like theme song, and most worrying was that I was not sure they fed all sharks. The ones that swam by were fed, but were they all fed? I couldn’t tell. Minutes later I went down a 6 meter staircase to the bottom of the tank, and lucky me, the presence of myself, the wholly almighty me, the top-of the food chain, scared the hell out of the sharks to the far edges of the tank. I spent one third of an hour down, in which my ears almost exploded of the pressure and my head gear was too heavy that I barely kept myself standing, but it was a very pleasant experience still. We had all seen it in movies, but putting a feeling to the visual was well worth the… 1260 Bahts, or US $36!
What least impressed me was Thai food. Unlike western cultures, Thais rely heavily on street food stands, which by the spread of them, would make you think Thais don’t cook at home. You can hardly walk down a street, pass through an ally, or take a corner, without finding several of these seemingly-unhigenic stands. The biggest problem to me the lack of any information, or even a name, as to what was being sold. And for most of what I tried, I did not like it. Either it was sweet-and-sour, which to me is a no-no, or it contained ingredients that tasted just plain unfamiliar. One soup bowl I drank blew away my definition of what “spicy” feels like. The burn transcended from my mouth to my ass as if someone shoved a giant hot pickle into my mouth. Every sip of it was like a blow from a flame-thrower that burned out through my ass! So between the spicy food, the unfamiliar vegetables, the almost sweet-less fruits and the unrecognizable spices, I would give Thai food a C.
Going into Thailand, I had up high on my checklist trying Thai massage. My first was on the second day, at Wat Po, the birthplace of Thai massage, where I tried a 45-minute foot massage. It was very relaxing, yet extremely tickling, but after I finished, I longed for more. In the next day, while at the Weekend Market, I went for another foot massage in an open-air shop. Enough with feet I decided, and went on in the following day to try my first body massage; at a small street shop called “Happy Massage” — there I tried a “Thai Traditional Massage”, or as I came to call it, the “Woman on Top” massage. While to me the foot massage was characterized by “tickling”, the Thai massage was all about “lack of permissions”. During the course of an hour, the massus girl intertwingled her body into mine in more positions than there are numbers in the Yellow Pages. Most of the time, it was a mystery to me whose legs were where, whose hands were these, and what exactly they were doing in the positions they were in. As soon as she started, she assumed full control and quietly granted herself full access; quickly moving our limbs from one awkward position to the next as if I was not there. Besides the R-rated part of the experience, the massage itself was exhilarating. It was however tiresome at many times; in some positions she locked herself into, her stretching led to significant pressure on my muscles that was at some instants almost unbearable.
For the next two days I went to two luxurious massage studios, and tried their signature treatments; each was 90 minutes worth of oily Aromatherapy and Thai techniques. They felt extremely relaxing; a Nirvana experience they were. Similar to the Woman on Top massage, the masseuses took the liberty to touch, rub and knead, but this time around my “mood” was entirely different without my clothes!
I am a self-proclaimed gadget-aholic, and do most of my shopping rituals at the amazon.com shrines. Besides that, I am alergic to all other types of shopping. So in Bangkok’s Chatuchak Market, a weekend market of more than 15,000 shops of everything but electronics, I didn’t drool over myself. In the Floating Market however, I almost did. Properly named, in the flodting market one takes a boat that goes throw small canals packed with other boats selling goods that range from souvenirs to fruits. For about 20 minutes, the boat moved through the narrow canals, always colliding with the streams of other boats that are all trying to stir their way through the calm waters, while skillfully balancing themselves from the sellers who are using their hands and long sticks to grab the boats of potential buyers onto them. Despite the constant fear of the boat spilling over, it was quite an enjoyable ride, even without buying anything.
A shopping experience that almost went astray was my buying the new uni-body Apple MacBook. My credit card was declined, and after a 15-minute call to the bank that cost me a small fortune, they re-activated it — Visa and its damn Security Program. In the midst of the mess, I didn’t properly or vigourously check the laptop like I am used to. And it was only when I went back at the hotel that I noticed a red stuck pixel in the middle of the screen. I was utterrly frustrated; I usually vet LCD screens quite well, I knew of apple pickiness when it comes to dead pixels, and to top it all, going back to the store and fighting with people that barely spoke English sounded dreadful. The next day, I went to the store first thing in the morning, and as soon as I told them it had a dead pixel, they replied they would replace it immediately. And to my surprise, they went back to the storage room, brought a new one, and started unpacking it, before they even looked into my claims. I went in expecting to make a fight or for a “but” to be told, but 30 minutes later I walked out with a new one, and sure enough, all of employees holding a smile on their faces.
My last shopping experience was at Patapong, a “night market” that opens past sunset. Putting aside the countless shops in the middle of the street that mostly sold women clothing and fake Rolexes, the sidewalks were the real sight to behold: go-go bars one after the other, which to properly sell their “products,” had pole dancers perform right infront of the door. Taking a picture was tough with “women” pimps guarding the doors, but I manged to take a sneak peek.
Monuments that surprised me on how few they were, temples coated all over with gold, huge malls with almost nothing but brand names, street markets that go from hundreds to thousands of shops each, a lavish Thai show at the Siam Niramit Theater, an IMAX film because I cannot visit a country without tasting its cinema, plenty of massages, hours spent in Apple stores, good food, bad food, a feast of a breakfast every day at the hotel, a steep language barrier, the friendliest and most gracious people, little sleep, and a very long and tiresome flight; this was my week in Bangkok. The Thai massage was undoubtedly the gem of the trip. To the point were on departure, at the airport, I couldn’t help but sneak into a massage studio for a half-hour foot massage, spending there the last few hundred Bahts I carried. Thai massage will be something I would miss, and it alone could be a reason one would go to Thailand. Next time though, I should try out one of those 6-hour massage treatments!
More pictures of the trip here.
