Today marks the official end of the ludicrocity (its a word, look it up) that has been 6 AM wakeups. Today I got up at the completely reasonable time of 8, reasonable being said with a hearty measure of skepticism.
Today I set out to get the bike that the wonderful people at Gabfai had for me, and apparently have spent the week fixing up. However, whenever anyone mentions the bike, I can see the sidelong glances of all present, and given that the bike has been named Mao I didnt have too high hopes about its merits. Anyway, when I was presented with this lovely machine, and the lock with which to secure it, I was all smiles knowing that the lock was merely cursory. In fact, as I parked the bike for the first time, I considered the merits of locking it up, in the hopes of discouraging thieves from nicking the lock and chain. All wingeing aside, I am very grateful for this Great Leap Forward in transportation, and proceeded to take The Chairman as he prefers to be called, around to explore the campus of nearby Chiang Mai University. After getting terribly turned around, and thus forced to ride up the same steep hill twice (The needs but one gear) I was able to find the faculty of Fine Arts, and to find some really good contacts there.
I suppose the best way to convey the state of The Chairman, is with the following anecdote. Pulled up to a stoplight among a horde of motorbikes, I noticed, as one tends to do, the feeling of being the object of anothers gaze, and upon looking around, saw the guy on a moped next to me looking down (in more ways than one) at The Chairman. In a combination of broken languages that is too horrifying to repeat herealthough alluded tothe following exchange took place,
ME: (smiling) You like him.
MOPED MAN: (awkwardly smiling) How much?
ME: Oh, hes not for sale.
MOPED MAN: (now full on laughing) No, how much (did you pay for him)?
ME: Zero
MOPED MAN: (thumbs up)
(Light changes)
ME: (start pumping furiously)
MOPED MAN: (gently turns his wrist and tears off)
and ..Scene.
After biking, which somehow got a lot harder since I was 12, I was a sweaty mess, and after changing my clothes, I went in search of a late lunch. The girl at the cafÈ and I were able to reach a mutual understanding, and my light meal of rice and steamed vegetables with tofu and egg was delicious, despite there being only one other patron in the whole place. The other patron leaned over, and apparently spoke English pretty well (a kernal of knowledge that would have been nice to know before the preceding exchange) and we started talking. He told me about his pen pal from Boston from back decades ago, and asked if I knew Mr. Jack. He also told me a lot about his time up near Chiang Rai among the Aka, where he taught English. He told me that we think money in the bank and a Mercedes is the most important thing, until we get old and crawl to the hospital and argue with doctors (this is at least the story that I could discern), but among the Aka, there is food from the earth, everyone eats together every meal and they have herbs that heal them, while here he was eating out alonewhich apparently he does every meal. When I asked him if he ever went back to visit them, he said no but he thinks of them often.
The good news, is that my new friend answered a question that had been looking me in the face ever since I moved in. The moonscape indeed used to be a golf course, and it had been bulldozed and generally made barren in order to make room for .a golf course. The old golf course used to be only for members of the Royal Thai Air Forceit seems that links on this private course was part of their pension program. He also, explained the towers, which I correctly(?) called air traffic control towers, were indeed for security personal on the Royal Thai Air Force Golf Course. I empathized with his assumed good feelings about his view being upgraded from a moonscape to a manicured golf course, but I had him all wrong. He said that the course would most likely install a 6 story high net (apparently he had done his research and knew this was the height on the nets at Chiang Mais driving ranges) that would completely block his view and make his apartment dark, even after he specifically chose that side of building for the view. Hes really a glass half-full kind of guy.
For dinner I wandered the main road near my house casing out the eating establishments, but really just looking for food I recognized from the previous nights glutinous feast (BTW when I went to collect Mao, I found out that Cat hadnt gone to work because she was really sick to her stomach, making the fact that we both ate all of the same dishes the previous night, bode well for my intestinal fortitudeperhaps those Korns realty are iron bellied). Finding no such standsalthough I found one that sold grilled horse shoe crabs on a stick it tastes just like it smells!I resolved to eat at one of the sit down kiosks. Having not learned my lesson from lunch (that empty places can be delicious, and full of serendipitous encounters with optimists), I declined to eat at the deserted dining room with WWF wrestling on the TV, and instead took the packed place next door with super cheesy, soft lit, Thai soaps on the TV. Upon saying that I was a vegetarian, I got knowing nods, and after speaking with a women who purportedly spoke English, I felt confident in the quality of my impending meal.
Boy, was I wrong.
As far as I can tell, if my meal were to be listed in English on the menuif they decided to have a menu at allit would be called “Noodles in murky, gelatinous water with cursory amounts of mushrooms and bok choy”. If this sounds like something you may still be interested in eating, perhaps the menu should utilized a different color to highlight the importance of gelatinous in its description.