Dear Family & Friends,

Well, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve been out and about Bangkok utterly playing into the “ugly American” stereotype. First of all, I cannot for the world of me, get “hi” or “thank you” in Thai right. According to the hotel’s tourist map, “hi” is pronounced “sad-wad-dee” and “thank you” is “kob-koon” – how difficult could this be? However, when I place my fingers together to mini-bow in greeting, the words magically skitter from my brain and I’m left with “hello” and “thank you.” I’ve placed buying a resource such as “how to speak Thai for really dumb Americans” on my list of things to buy. Yesterday, I managed to both relax and have plenty of adventure. Aren't I just the multi-tasker? As threatened, I wallowed in my suite and for a while, I played on my laptop at my granite “working desk” at the window overlooking the street with what I believe is the China Resources Tower (http://www.skyscrapercity.com/photopost/data/503/103dscn1357.jpg) in the distance. I was just in the groove of writing up a description of my journey and replying to individual e-mails when I got a low battery warning from my computer. I took that as a sign that I finally needed to do something about the power conversion issue. So I closed my computer and took a nap.

As you all know, not every country uses the same electricity system. I realized this before departing but couldn’t figure out what I would need and reasoned that I wouldn’t be the first dumb American to bring a laptop to Bangkok and that I could ask for what/where to buy what I needed when I arrived. So I packed my American surge protector + my computer power cable and I went downstairs to query a receptionist. She had no clue what I was asking until I used the word “computer” which inspired her to get out a shopping map and recommended that I go to something called the “Pantip.” She then laughed when I asked her if I could walk there. So I the doorman hailed a cab for me and directed it to downtown Bangkok.

So far, I find Bangkok driving and drivers amazing. Especially as I examined the bodies of the cars - and few had any scratches or other signs of damage. As I settled into my cab, I felt a bit disconcerted to notice that while the driver gets to be anchored to his seat with a belt, there are no such luxuries for the passenger in the back. And I looked... running my hands between the seats. Initially, this became very disconcerting as the driver shifted his car into gear and barreled ahead barely staying within the road markings. Admittedly, my understandable fear was almost completely forgotten as I began to take in the city sights. Oh, I wish that my camera could capture every image that my mind’s eye did! The lines of motor bikers forming walls on the outside of lanes of traffic. The school girls in their yellow, loosely fitting light cotton uniform tops, with black bags slung across their shoulders, walking away from school, many chatting on their cell phones. The little Buddha altars unexpectedly set in bank plazas or in building corners or in alley ways. Or the many, many altars with bigger-than-life portraits of the beloved Thai king. The mother on her (regular) bike with a basket with her toddler in front of her - also clutching the handlebars. The pedestrians pacing the side of a busy road, trying hard not to breathe in the smog, their faces each individually contorted. Some roads are snug with buildings and thin sidewalks while others are many-laned and clogged to a standstill with traffic. From the back of the cab, I craned my head this way and that attempting to note signs just in case I could accidentally get my bearings. I never did. I began to quietly giggle as I began to suspect that the driver thought I was having seizures as I twisted and craned in the backseat - he kept glancing at me through the rear view mirror – when he wasn’t quietly humming to his tunes on the radio.

The cab finally dropped me off at the Pantip – and charged me 77 B for the ride. Remember that amount. Anyway, I wandered into the Pantip and forcibly had to keep my jaw from dropping. I had entered frenetic shopping center, filled with booths lit with florescent lights and jammed full of high tech equipment everywhere – stacked, hanging, in bins. There were DVD players, digital cameras, a myriad of cheap “optical” computer mice (I really wanted to buy one but restrained myself under the theory that you get what you pay for) and so, so, so much more. I kept flashing my mind to a typical Best Buy store and then to my reality – and couldn’t help but wonder: whatever makes Americans think they have the corner on high tech gadgets? Really. Oh, and I was the only Westerner in that entire place. Happily, I didn’t seem to attract a lot of stares. Anyway, after marveling and wandering, I finally stopped a booth and with hand gestures and with my surge protector, bought 2 power converters for 30 B each. Feeling pleased with myself, I wandered some more and succumbed to one more converter that looked better put together for 50 B and a CD disk for “new arrivals” on how to speak Thai for 250 B. Finally the noise got to me, so I walked out of that mall and headed to another that I had noticed down the street. I walked past vendors hawking luggage & backpacks (i.e. North Face – well probably faux North Face!), street vendors with piles of fruit, skimpy sandals, perfume, and very cheap massages (99 B for an hour). I crossed the street on a sky bridge – peering down the street jammed with cars lined with mostly short, ~5 story buildings, greenery hanging from every crevice. One sky bridge a crouched, tired lady with a toddler begging while another had a lady missing several limbs waving a cup and third bridge had a man with a prosthetic leg. Heart-breaking. Some beggars got some of my change and I’ve resolved to set a daily budget or rule for giving money to beggars. No matter where I am, this is a moral issue that I always, always struggle with.

Inside the next shopping mall, I glimpsed perhaps 5 westerners but surprisingly, none would meet my eyes. I found this odd – where was the camaraderie? Mayhap they were too cool for me. Anyway, this mall had a dizzying array booths filled with purses, jewelry, clothing, massages (some places had chairs plainly meant for foot massages, others had little mattresses spread on the floor with sheet curtains for privacy). Everywhere I could see gifts: in fact, Jade-colored Buddhas for everyone! Just kidding. Kind-of. I didn’t buy a thing… just wandered and contemplated. One thing I decided was that the main difference between Thai-style shopping malls and our shopping malls, besides polish, is branding or lack of. None of the Thai stores had signs up (no Gap or JCPenny or Nordy’s evident) and no booth advertised brands – well, except for the obviously faux stuff. Finally, I got lost in a maze of a mall and began to tire. I eventually found my way out, bought a bottle of iced water from a street vendor for 10 B and began to contemplate heading back. However, finding a cab on the crowded Bangkok streets is not terribly easy so I finally took myself to the nearest hotel – and it was then that I realized that I had forgotten to bring the address of the Davis with me. At this point, I was beginning to feel a bit nauseous (could’ve been exhaustion or being overwhelmed or not having eaten enough or all of the above) so I walked up to the hotel porter and easily adopted the ugly American guise. The porter was sympathetic but while he could assist with a taxi, he hadn’t heard of the Davis. [grimace] "Oh." So he sent me inside and a really nice man behind the front desk finally helped me look up the address and then he wrote it out in Thai – since even my hotel card key did not have the address. I gave the address to the porter, who hailed me a cab and I climbed in. Again, no seatbelt. I gave the address to the driver. The driver smiled at me and said something which I didn’t understand. He kept flashing 3 fingers at me and although I still didn’t understand, I agreed. I suspected that he was telling me that he’d take a toll road which the passenger has to pay for – which was fine by me. He skillfully drove back to the Davis in about half the time that it took to get downtown. He and I unsuccessfully attempted conversation – he showed me a few malls and told me that the “If it Swims, We Have it Restaurant” was good. (I had also been told this by a friend in the states). When we pulled up to the Davis, I attempted to hand him a 100 B note (shouldn’t this be plenty?) and he kept saying “no” and flashing the 3 fingers. Finally, I realized that he had not metered my ride and instead, I had agreed to a 300 B taxi ride. [grimace] "Oh." So I pulled out 300 B and gave it to him. I was vexed because he had taken advantage of me... although my logical voice told me that it was going to happen as I’m a strange stranger in a strange land.

Lightly fuming, I headed back to my room. I pulled my hard-won converter out of the packaging, plugged it into the wall. It fit and that was just beautiful. Then I plugged my surge protector into the converter and “poof” the surge protector made a poof sound and flashed a bit of light from within and the electricity panel went dark. I then tried the other converter in both the wall next to my desk and in the bathroom. And no, I wasn’t dumb enough to test my computer on these; I used my digital camera battery charger. Nothing worked. No power for my computer. So much for my practical plans for the evening. So much for my “native” shopping experience. Deprived from my plans to finish my blog, deprived of my music player, my DVD player, my financial tracker and planner, for the first time I began to feel a bit lost and homesick. So I did what every self-respecting American would do: I went out to eat.

A friend had told me that the best Thai food she had had on her trip to Bangkok was in a Thai restaurant adjoining the Davis. Problem: there were 2. So I decided to try one that night and one for lunch. Walking into the first place, I almost immediately suspected that I wasn’t in the right place as the restaurant was fancy and there were no customers. But the waiter told me to sit so I did. I ordered a non-alcoholic drink of mint and lime and crushed ice and other stuff “the best that the bar had ever created” and had an over-priced but at least not spicy meal of noodles with soft shell crab for 472 B. As the food went down, I contemplated good sources to assist with my computer problems and as soon as I paid, I went back to the hotel concierge to discuss my issue. Finally, we decided I should ask the “IT Manager” who would be in at 8:30 the next morning. It was now sunset, 6:50, so I drew a bath, read for a bit, and then by 7:50, I was in bed. I figured I could use the sleep and that I’d wake early.

This morning I awoke at sunrise, around 5:30 – is it possible that I’ve become a morning person? I read in my favorite suite spot: a silk chair with ottoman – which I reversed away from the TV and towards my view of the city. I watched as the city awoke, ordered room service of fruit & noodles (room service looked reasonable at 300 B after last night’s dinner), ate some, read, showered, read, went to Starbucks, packed, and was at the front desk at 8:45. A lady came up to my suite, couldn’t assist but returned with the "IT Manager" and they figured out that my breaker had been flipped (hmmm… wonder how that happened?) and that I can plug my computer into the wall. [grimace] "Oh." So here I am, after another breakfast, drinking bottled water and typing away. I’m going to finish this morning’s room service breakfast at lunch, depart from the Davis and head to my Wendy guesthouse. There, I’m going to settle and wander and plan for the rest of the week. Must buy decent map of the city and am keeping my eyes peeled for wallet that can contain Baht, credit cards and my passport. Not having any luck so far but things are bound to improve in this city for shoppers.

Ok, so I'm not yet a savvy traveler. But I’m learning, yes? After all, I’m sure that Rick Steeves & Rudy Maxa & Pico Ayer & Jan Morris & Bill Bryson had to start somewhere – and so can I!

By the way, I strongly suspect that the length of these postings will decrease as “real life” kicks in. (Currently defined as: guesthouse + school). If you like the length of these last few descriptions, sorry. If you do not, well, they’ll get more succinct. Oh, and I’ll soon figure out the picture thing. I cannot quite decide how to politely take photos in public – although I managed to get some photos of my suite before I began leaving a trial of clothing and books around.

Fondest thoughts of you all,

Laura

PS: Another difference between their malls and ours: the TP hangs near the sinks and doubles as paper towel. For the record, I was initially puzzled at the lack of tp rolls in the stalls… but almost savvy in dealing with this!