Reading between the ruins
I’ve been down this road before — this long highway that takes one from the airport to the city of Bangkok, which today, I expect, is going to be a tangle of traffic, typhoon and tension. Thailand is under military rule, and you know how any mention of “martial law” makes a Filipino uneasy. After all, we’ve had a slice of this pie before and let’s just say it didn’t make for a fun meal. Our guide Simon, however, assures us that there’s nothing to worry about. “Martial law only affects gasoline stations and 7-Eleven,” he jokes, referring to the nationwide curfew that had only been recently lifted. “It affects the law and legal cases, but the country, overall, doesn’t feel much.” As we finally approach our hotel, Amari Watergate Bangkok, I notice that it is right across from Platinum Mall — and all is well with the world again. Thoughts of shopping put my mind at ease and I am finally able to relish what the Thai Airways cabin crew said over the intercom as we landed: “You are now entering the Kingdom of Thailand.” The prospect of setting foot in a kingdom — any kingdom — somehow just excites me.
But first, let me take a selfie
The last time I was in Bangkok was five years ago. As I unpack my luggage for the four-day trip, a few items in my bag remind me of how different I am now. For instance, I would never have brought a flashlight, raincoat, and a can of Pringles (for the inevitable midnight snacking, of course) before. The old me would have packed too many clothes and left not much room for purchases, or in the case of work trips, press kits. The state of my luggage aptly represents my current disposition: organized, light and completely okay with getting scratched, dented, and even temporarily lost. I prepare for our next destination, Siam Niramit, cramming my camera, notebook, umbrella and more into my backpack. Inside the elevator, I see my reflection and think, Dora the Explorer, and then proceed to take one of those mirror selfies everybody hates. But this is a kingdom, not the gym, and I look like a freaking cartoon — the moment just warrants a souvenir.
Alone with everybody
The thing with traveling in large groups is that you are never alone with your thoughts — a good thing for a psychopath and a bad thing for a journalist. The getting-to-know-you part is most awkward, but we immediately find a common ground, and that is, a passion for outspoken observation. With groups, you get to say out loud what you’re thinking, to like-minded people if you’re lucky. The loner in me would constantly have intense cravings for solitude at several points during the trip, but for now, at Siam Niramit, I enjoy the company of people who share the ability to articulate exactly and with much creativity, just how spicy the tom yum is.
Siam Niramit is an educational village, complete with walk-in huts that showcase Thailand’s different industries, a restaurant that serves authentic Thai cuisine, and the 2,000-seat Ratchada Theatre, the world’s highest stage. The reason for the height? Elephants. The Siam Niramit show, which depicts different stages of Thai history, involves real elephants, chickens and goats. If I lost you at “history,” know that it also features an impressive set. At one point, someone will dive into the floor. Where there is a river, suddenly. Flowers will bloom. Demons will dance. Fairies will prance about and by the end of it, you will have learned more about Thailand than you maybe know about Manila.
Stone temple run
I slather on copious amounts of sunblock in anticipation of all the walking we’ll be doing around Ayutthaya. I am surprised that nobody else is concerned about being 100-percent covered in SPF — then I remember that this is not my usual work-travel group. With me are hardcore outdoor peeps, explorers of the deep sea, people who are most likely to survive for days without Internet… and suddenly I feel like a jerk, sunblock stick in one hand and lip balm in the other. I abandon all my “products” (a real triumph) and bask in ultraviolet glory.
The sun in Thailand is not the same as the sun in Manila. It has a sharp kind of heat that stings only the skin, unlike the sun in Manila, which seems to have the ability to make a hot pot of the human body. The midday sun bathed the Historic City of Ayutthaya, a UNESCO Heritage Site, as we roamed Wat Chai Watthanaram and Wat Maha That. We learned about it the night before at Siam Niramit, where a very populated and busy Ayutthaya was depicted as the cosmopolitan city that it once was.
Some pointers we have to remember while exploring the ancient city: no stepping on anything except the ground, no climbing on the monuments, no taking anything home and also, no taking photos above Buddha level. I sight one of the most photographed Buddhas in Wat Maha That, the stone Buddha head entangled in the roots of a Bodhi tree so close to the ground. Later on at dinner, one colleague would tell us that three black silhouettes guarded it and I would almost choke on my extra spicy (rated not one, not two, but four chilis by Blue Elephant restaurant) crabmeat rolls. But for now, I continue to take photos of the majestic and humbling scene — grounds that were once devastated by war, now glorious in ruin.
Eat, pray, fight
Inside the Kum Khun Phaan, a traditional Thai-style house made entirely of golden teak wood, we are welcomed with a banquet of fruits and what we here would call kakanin. Durian, mangosteen, rambutan and longkong (lanzones) are laid out in large woven trays, all of them much fresher than we are after a day of manic photographing under the sun. It is our third day in Thailand and I am surprised that my stomach hasn’t yet protested from all the unlikely dishes I’ve been feeding it. On our first day, my mouth had a severe reaction to chili, one that I treated with coconut ice cream (because milk neutralizes spices — not that I knew that). My stomach is revealing a resilience that could battle that of The Wall’s. The men of the Night’s Watch would be proud.
On the side of the house, just underneath the entry way where we were asked to leave our shoes, is a shrine of offerings containing food, drink and incense for the spirits. I would see one again by a karinderya near Tor Kor Market the following day, and I would watch a man — spiritedly — consume it. In that moment of irony, I felt right at home in Bangkok. In the contrast between the old and the new, the sacred and the humorous, the indomitable traffic and the people’s unfaltering will to surmount it, I saw bits of home.
After our day in Ayutthaya, we return to the city to watch a Muay Thai fight. Not a real one, but a play called Muay Thai Live, and it would involve a proposal, a kidnapping, and a wedding. I was told before coming here to watch out for happy endings, but this is one left hook I did not see coming.
Bangkok after dark
“Time moves in its special way in the middle of the night,” one author wrote. It is past 10 p.m. and I am at the lobby of our hotel, first for the Wi-Fi and second, for the company — who are all yet to descend from their rooms freshly powdered and appropriately dressed for the night. Every night this is the plan: ride a fast vehicle to a strange place and not go home till it’s almost time to get up. But we never follow through. The night before, I sneaked away from the group and took a long, quiet walk around Sukhumvit as the night took on a life of its own. Tonight, I would properly down three bottles of San Mig Light (considering the contents of my stomach, I doubt I could trust anything else) while events not unlike the ones we have in Malate unfolded, then make it in time for Lake Placid back at the hotel. Born to be mild, indeed.
It’s 10:30 p.m. and one by one my new friends emerge from the hallway. One arrives fashionably late in a flowing maxi skirt. Another hurries past me, asking me if I want to buy jewelry from his sister’s alahera. One fiddles with his phone, several meters away. And one sits with me like an old friend. It’s our last night in the Kingdom and so far all I’ve done is take photos, eat their food, and discuss mundane matters with people over meals, and now here we are, all dressed-up to drink beer imported from our country.
There is an excitement to be drawn from the new, but the beauty that connects a city to a soul is found in the familiar. Sometimes you just gotta bring your ordinary life to a new place and it comes back with you, somehow richer. There were no profound spiritual awakenings to be had. There won’t always be. But certain moments — like seeing a man call dibs on a feast for the spirits — were certainly golden.
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Visit www.thaiairways.com for schedule of flights to Bangkok, Thailand. For information on Thailand, visit www.tourismthailand.org. Photos by CHONX TIBAJIA
