Chiang Mai. Finally. Flying in I couldn't see much of the city or surrounding countryside, as I had to look over this douche-bag who didn't even look out the window, he just kept writing shit in his Bible. What I did see looked to be rolling orange groves and rice-fields, and it kind of reminded me of the hills of California. Touching down at Chiang Mai Int., I was so goddamn relieved to be stepping off my last plane-ride, at least for awhile. Everything had gone very smoothly up until this point, but I had to know that I wouldn't make it through four flights completely unscathed, and this is where I got scathed. Forgetting that I had purchased a separate, domestic flight out of Bangkok, I mistakenly went to the international baggage claim and waited like an asshole till the very last suitcase had been picked up and the carousel stopped moving; not-so-subtley voicing my frustration at airport personnel and thinking out loud that my bags were still in Seoul or Atlanta or fucking Djibouti for all I knew. Luckily I wasn't the only one who seemed to be missing luggage, so me and my fellow idiots wandered around looking for our village when finally some airport staff, laughing at us from the sidelines I'm sure, came over and checked our papers and told us we were at the wrong claim.
On my way over to domestic, which was on the complete opposite end of the airport, I passed a bald little Thai with tattoos on his skull wearing a wife-beater, sweating to meet the man and holding a jasmine necklace and a sign that said, "Welcome Scott!" Already feeling the lag, I of course walked right past him about ten steps when it hit me. I turned around and yelled, "BERM!! (which is pronounced Bum)", but he had already turned around to follow me, being informed of how tall I was. We shook hands and exchanged a few shaky phrases in both English and Thai, and he led me to where he had been waiting for the past 45 minutes and my luggage. We grabbed my bags and wheeled them out to the scorching humidity of the parking lot. After loading up his brand-new Honda hatchback we took off for Santitham (pronounced Santy-tam) Guest House.
Coming up next: Chiang Mai traffic. It deserves it's very own blog.
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Scott, I've had several flights where my airplane neighbor, with the window seat, fails to even glance outside as we approach our destination, while I curse on the inside my inability to see, and worse, his lack of interest in the surroundings below.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, your writing is terrific, it reminds me very much of Tom Robbins and Tom Wolfe, two of my favorites. Of course your style is unique, but all three of you give an unconventional and insightful view into very unique experiences. And, the Toms don't write to often anymore, so I'm relying on you.
Have fun, Todd
By the way (the previous comment too), this is Todd, writing on Erin's facebook (on accident).
ReplyDelete"Sweating to meet the man" brilliant
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