one night in bangkok (parental guidance suggested) [this is like ira glass saying it on this american life. it's not that dirty, but be warned.]

and the world's your oyster. Indeed, this may be true. After killing myself in Siem Reap with a bicycle and the most famous temples in the world, I was looking forward to some relaxation and craziness. The craziness began straight at the Thai border, where I was picked up by a madman driving a minibus. Now bus drivers in Asia, if I were to generalize, are much more willing to take risks than their Western counterparts. I have grown accustomed to that fact, and it doesn't much bother me when a bus driver takes a blind corner at high speed while overtaking a car. This is because the bus drivers are involved in what they are doing and mindful of doing a good job. A good job here means not killing anyone.

This bus driver was different. At the beginning of the trip, he took interest in another passenger's hat, and for the rest of the journey, he was putting it on, taking it off, and playing with it as he drove. He also spent a good amount of time texting, much to the dismay of most of the passengers. He stopped about 8 times, often in quick succession. He would stop to buy himself a snack, and then ten minutes later, he'd stop so he could go to the bathroom. He didn't let anyone else out, mind you, he just went on his own. At one point, a German lady asked him to drive more carefully, at which point he started driving at about 60 kph, leaving us vulnerable to rear end collisions. Then the German woman said you don't have to drive slow, just more carefully, and he went back to the way he was driving before. At the end of the trip, he hit a curb, and that was it. I plan to complain, but I'm not sure who to complain to.

But we all arrived at Khao San Road with no bodily harm. Khao San Road is the haven of all backpackers in SE Asia. It was built up quite a bit. I expected craziness from all sides...which I got, just not the type of craziness I expected. We arrived at the tail end of Thai New Year or Songkran. This means a giant waterfight. People armed with water pistols (big ones, like super soakers) and waterbottles with holes in the top push through the streets spraying anyone that catches their eye. That means if you're soaked you've been attracting attention, which I think is cool. The other side of this is the flour. Vendors are set up along the street selling bowls and little hard pellets of flour. You take some ice water, which is set up in giant coolers periodically down the street, and mix it with the flour to make a paste, which you then smear on others. I took it as a blessing, but there were some tourists who didn't go with the flow, and ended up screaming as they were sprayed with water and plastered with flour. When in Thailand, do as the Thai.

Then we went to Gulliver's Travels, a bar, for a fellow traveler's birthday. Now, I'm a bit awkward around working girls. I will remind you of a quote from a woman I met at Eric Weisbrod's 21st birthday party: 'What do you think this is, a library?' If you don't understand the context of that quote, please email me, and I'd be happy to explain. So the bar, at it's peak, about 90% of the female population was probably not there for pleasure. They were there for business. Well maybe they were there for pleasure, but not theirs. Or maybe they are...it depends on who you talk to.

Nevermind.

We were having fun, dancing and drinking, and at this point of the night, most men in the bar are paired up with one of these women. Now this thought has crossed my mind before, but not often: I'm afraid I'm an uptight, northeastern prude. I mean, you can do what you want, and I will not judge you. But man, the thought of a barful of people watching me begin courting someone explicitly only after my money leaves me cold. I can't do it.

So after perusing the bar for a bit, I thought I had found three Thai girls who were not there for business. After dancing a good long time with the three of them, one of the girls asked if I worked at the bar. This was a strange question to ask, but I told her the truth. Then she told me that they all worked for the bar. I bolted.

Now upon reflection, I wonder if what they meant was they were servers, or barbacks, or bartenders on a night off. If that's the case, I regret leaving them high and dry. But as I like to say, and you know I say this all the time, 'Err on the side of caution.'

'One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble.'--now if you don't know this quote, get Chess, the original cast recording, and listen to Murray Head wail. He is a legend. Legend.

bus duos

from what i can gather, from my two long distance bus rides (to and from dardo) is the bus is usually run by a husband and wife team. the man usually drives the bus while the woman deals with the business.














on our way back from dardo, our bus was run by a perfectly charming (i gotta believe) married couple. it seemed like they had been driving the chengdu-dardo run for their entire lives. a long distance bus ride, like almost anything else in china, has a fair amount of bureaucracy. before we even left the dardo bus station we had two officials board the bus, the driver initial some documents, and the wife, or the laoban (what you call a manager of any business, be it bus or restaurant), hand one official a 20 kuai bill. (suspicious, no?) but they handled the red tape like clockwork.

we would approach an bureaucratic station which would usually be an official sitting behind a desk in a shop front (once it was a man sitting behind a wall he was using for a desk underneath an umbrella in a garden). as we drew closer, laoban would stand next to the door, and when the bus stopped, the door would pop open, she would walk over and have some paper stamped or pay someone some money.

the whole time they had been joking, laughing, and talking to each other, and it seemed like they had a really good thing going.at one point during the ride, the wife yelled to her husband that she was hungry. the bus driver gallantly pulled over to where some country people were selling roast corn, and bought her one. while we were there, quite a few passengers took advantage as well. no one complained about the unscheduled stop, it was clear we were going to get there when we got there, and not a moment before.

when we left dardo, we did not have a full bus, and at any point during the trip a person would wave at the bus and laoban would begin to barter with the wouldbe passenger. the going rate was a hundred kuai, and it was clear she wasn't moving from her price. in that situation, it's clear who has the upper hand. one woman tried to get 90, and laoban wouldn't come down. eventually the woman paid the hundred and boarded. another time, an old man tried to get 80, and the bus driver began to pull away even before he had a chance to offer more.

by the time we were 4 hours away from chengdu, our bus was full, and laoban had given her seat to the final passenger. she took a red cushion she had had next to her seat and laid it on the console next to her husband. for the next 4 hours, they sat next to each other, her peeling and cutting apples, and him sharing them. occasionally she would swing over to her tape bag to change the music. it was like they were on a road trip, with a few 60 extra hangers on. it was quite sweet.when we returned to chengdu, our supposedly 8 hour ride (which took 9 on the way there) took a measly 6 and half hours, including a lunch stop. i was a big fan of their team, but i couldn't figure out how to express myself. i settled for a big smile and a hearty xie xie (thank you).

the bus to kangding

the bus ride to kangding is beautiful. you wind your way through mountain passes, accompanied by a rushing river the whole way. it is harvest time, so there is grain be dried everywhere you look, and farmers are burning cornhusks the middle of fields that are being put to rest for the winter. the bus keeps going up, and it becomes colder. this has been the first fall weather i've felt in about six years. it made me quite homesick.

written on the bus, stopped: "i sit on a crowded bus in a long line of cars winding through the mountains. the road drops off to my right to a gorgeous river surrounded by bamboo and trees. occasionally houses will cruise by my window. 5 foot wide satellite dishes are ubiquitous, brightening (or dulling) the lives of these country folk. a main business on this snake of a road is cleaning trucks. as they rip out the hearts of these beautiful mountains and carry it down, these trucks get dirty. so they wash them. at all times, they have hoses pumping out water. if not onto a truck being cleaned, then onto the ground. i guess it drains into the river anyways. great. "back on the bus, we've stopped at a mid-mountain, back-country traffic jam. patrick and i sit in the back of the bus, directly above the engine. neither of us have a window seat, and i am sweating like my namesake. the two way road has been blocked by our bus and a dump truck stacked with filled burlap sacks. bikes ride and motorcycles honk and yell as they cruise by on our right, justifiably upset that these two behemothes are blocking the legal? right of way. eventually, the bus and the dump truck pull over, and we exit the bus and wait."

it turns out that two dump trucks had collided. a truck had tried to pass another vehicle around a blind turn, and had run into a truck coming the opposite way. passing around a blind turn? you ask, shocked. ahhhh. china. i believe the single traffic law in china is: "you can do anything, as long as you honk as you do it." of course, i'm paraphrasing a little.

our bus tried to make the best time possible, passing multiple vehicles on a two lane road. if you want to pass a slower car in china, this is the procedure. 1. acknowledge that there is a car ahead of you by honking. 2. honk to communicate your intention to pass. 3. pass while honking, to be sure the car knows you are there. 4. honk to signal you are going to be coming back into the lane. repeat. variations: passing with oncoming traffic ahead--honk more, and louder. passing around a blind corner: lay down on your horn and pray. sometimes, clearly, the latter does not work well.

needless to say it was a great ride, and except for the delay for the accident we did make great time, arriving in kangding after dark, and just as it began to rain. at least this rain didn't burn.

the buses of chengdu

the moped, the bike, the rickshaw, the car, the car that looks like it should be a moped. all of these are wonderful ways to get around the city. i, however, am relegated to the bus. now it is possible to take a taxi into chengdu from where i work and live, but with a price 15-45 times expensive as the bus, that is saved for weekends when i am out later than the buses run. and do they run. the system is quite good albeit a bit confusing.

a few times during the day, the bus is a relaxed affair. you put in a single yuan (about an eigth of a dollar) into the receptacle, and you ride until you get off. the seats are comfortable, as bus seats go, and there are ads for gatorade featuring yao ming, that star of stars (almost everyone's favorite nba team here is the houston rockets). my favorite seat is on the right side of the bus, after the second door. it is a single seat bolted to the wheel well. you can put your feet up on the handrails by the door, and people seem to avoid that seat...perhaps because of the bumps. i lean my head out the window, even though a couple of giggling girls hot to practice their english told me it was dangerous. now i don't know about dangerous, but you want to avoid leaning your head out the window on the left side, as you are likely to be spattered with loogies of the bus driver.

spitting is an art in china. a unisex art. after hearing a massive snot gathering, you are as likely to see a woman as a man launch the contents of their sinuses into the street. snot rockets are popular here as well.

however, i digress. i sit watching the advertisements for new housing developments go buy, the scooters passing, being passed, then passing once again, and the massive amount of commercial establishments once we reach the city proper. it is a nice ride, when i am not packed like, dare i say it, a sardine in a can.the state of the bus usually more like this. i guess when you have 10.2 million people living in a city, the bus is going to be full most of the time. now you pay a single yuan and cram yourself into the cattle herd of humanity that has gathered at the front of the bus. now i recommend that you hush that fuss, and move to the back of the bus. for some reason, most of the standing crush resides in the front of the bus, and if you can make it past the rear door, there is usually much more space. people board with roll-on luggage, nothing but the clothes they are wearing, plastic sacks filled with what seems to be fertilizer, anything and everything. no chickens yet, but i'm waiting. they seem to travel mostly by rear of moped.

as for seating, people are very wary of the elderly and the pregnant. people will stand up and shout "qing zuo, qing zuo" (please sit, please sit) immediately whenever someone in either condition board. (there are many pregnant women about, this being a little more than 8 months after chinese new year and the winter festival.) i was standing once when a few people would not give up their seat to an elderly man, and the bus driver started shouting at them. eventually, younger but older man stood up, giving his seat to the man. clearly, the reason he had not stood before is because he thought someone younger should have stood first. i felt the same. kids these days.

but when trying to give your seat to a younger person, such as a more vivacious expectant mother, or a woman whose foot you just crushed, expect a bit of a fight. a simple single qing zuo won't do it. you have to plead with them to take your seat. if you say please sit enough, and ignore their cries of "it's okay, i can stand" (at least i imagine that's what they say) you will be able to get them to sit down. because of course they want to sit down, but they don't want to accept on the first offer. good ole chinese culture.

but it beats walking.