Thailand: Getting in the Groove

At first, we didn't know what traveling would be like; I pictured frazzled running to and fro or staggering aimlessly in the blazing heat, heavy packs strapped to our backs. But humans adapt. We quickly take the experiences of daily life and apply them to our new surroundings. Old habits creep back in and we force the chaos of new environments into some sort of rhythm that we can make sense of. This has been our experience. Quickly, we have developed patterns and rituals that have helped us cope with new, sometimes overstimulating surroundings. Here are some examples:


The New Accommodation Routine:

Traveling is nomadic; here today, gone tomorrow. The maximum stay in one location has been three nights. Every accommodation is different. Some are nice; some are not. One thing remains constant: the blistering heat. Every arrival to the reception desk feels the same. I am hot. I smell. My backpack is digging into my hips (praise be that we packed relatively light!). It is torture to stand in one place. The check-in process seems to take forever and I feel like gravity is pulling on me so hard I fight the urge to sit on the floor. When we finally get the key, we march straight to the room, drop our bags and turn on the air conditioner. We grab the two supplied towels, roll them out on top of the bed (to avoid skin contact with the contaminated covers) and strip. We lie, separated by our towels, our body stench and urge to hit anything that invades our space, and beg our core temperatures to drop. We start to feel human again. We regain our ability to speak to one another, and psyche ourselves up to go back outside and face the elements again.

For the rest of our stay, we will repeat this ritual every time we enter the threshold. In fact, when we get angry-hot (our word to describe the type of mood we are in), we calm each other down by saying "imagine you are in the room, on the towel". Always think happy thoughts.


The Sleep Routine:

Before we left, Steve's dad and brother Danny gave us a thoughtful parting gift: small flashlights. These have become an important staple in the sleep routine. Before we go to sleep, we do a "bug check". Correction. Steve does a "bug check". This is usually completed with me sitting on my towel on the bed, while Steve brings both flashlights to shoulder level. Arms bent and teeth bared. He tiptoes around the parameter of the room, making sure each corner is clear. He then moves stealthily to the centre of the room, and with the authority of a SWATT team leader, he performs the most critical part of the check: The under-and-around-the-bed-check. I wait for the verdict. "All Clear" he yells. I then get up to assist. We perform a risk assessment. Are the cracks in the door big or small? Are the windows screened or shuttered? Is the drain in the bathroom big or small? Is there a hot stench rising from it? Are there any food crumbs/ particles hanging around? If any of these checks seem sketchy, we bring in the reinforcements. I hand him the Muskol Deep Woods mosquito cream (that he made fun of when I packed it). He dots it along any breachable parameter, and I smear it to create a smooth line of protection. In the morning we assess the success of the mission. Normally this looks like a thick strip of fallen bugs, lying dead in the wake of our forethought. Mission accomplished.


The Traveling Routine:

Thanks to the lessons I learned from my mother, I always plan ahead. For example, in the mornings, I know that if I haven't gone to the washroom, I am going to need a toilet as soon as we are not in the vicinity of one. I "try" even if I don't have to. I don't drink water when going long distances on scooters or busses. I pride myself on this skill. Over time, I have successfully calibrated my colon and bladder so that I am not inconvenienced by nature's call. My mother would be proud. Steve, on the otherhand, hasn't mastered this technique. On any given trip, five minutes out the door and away from the nearest toilet, he will have to "go". Maybe it's because he has very little shame in actually using nature: The woods, the ocean, the ditches and sometimes the sides of roads are all fair game in his eyes...but of course I get to stand around as the awkward bystandard. This lack of forethought routine also applies to putting on sunscreen (why put it on before we are about to get on the scooter?) checking the map to see where we are going (it's no big deal to pull over in busy traffic with no shoulders) and etc. Maybe it's my lack of spontaneity, but sometimes I just don't get this particular ritual. However, it doesnt appear to be dissapearing anytime soon, so I guess I will just "go" with it.

The Snack Routine:

In each new place we visit, we orient ourselves according to the nearest familiar land mark: The 7-11 (or "Sevvie", in Stavanah lingo). In Thialand there is one on every block, and so the one closest to us becomes our main supply hub. To stay healthy and on our game, we try to keep our energy levels up by bringing snacks along with us. I like to buy almonds, granola bars and the occasional sports drink if it's really hot to help fight off dehydration and fatigue. Steve buys Oreos. Lots, and lots of Oreos. I think he has a problem. They are a perfect storm of temptation: Sweet, delicious, and only .30 cents a pack. He chows down on them all day, keeping himself full and happy. I think he is up to two packs a day-- I don't think his mother would approve of his snacking habbits. He may require intervention when we get home, but I'm sure the inflated costs will help detur him.


I'm sure that these would all be very interesting behaviors for any phycologist, biologist or perhaps zoologist to observe, but they sure do make life around these parts interesting and fun!

More to come on Koh Phangan and Koh Tao soon!

Till next time...