Free Man in Bangkok

Last Monday, I emerged from the confining space of my hospital room ready to greet the city of Bangkok. After checking out and confirming my appointments with the doctors, I walked across the street from the hospital to the Sara Inn. After checking in, I ventured out in search of the Peace Corps Thailand office. I walked outside into the pouring rain, and made my way through a narrow side street to a broad avenue that ran parallel to the Sky Train, the Bangkok mass transit system. I passed through crowds of Thais and foreigners from what seemed like every corner of the world. A man in a turban invited me to eat at his restaurant, dozens of middle-eastern looking me called out to have a suit made at their shop, and clothing stalls hawked their products. A number of restaurants advertised halal menus, and I passed by a 7-11, McDonald’s, Burger King, Starbucks, and KFC in the space of a few blocks. When I got to the station, it felt a little strange getting on a mass-transportation system again. After living for Cambodia for so long, I forgot that things like that exist at all. The ticket system, the station layout, and the train cars were all very familiar, but I was a little disappointed to learn that one cannot take the sky-train everywhere in the city.

One thing that I immediately noticed was how well dressed everyone was. No one was wearing sandals, and even the students were required to wear a kind of black buckled shoe. I also noticed how dirty and disgusting my clothes looked compared with them. I hoped that no one would notice my dirty, hand-washed clothes, but I resolved to find a laundry service as soon as I could find one.

From the Nana station, I traveled to Victory Monument for about forty baht. From there, I took a taxi to the Peace Corps Thailand office near the river. A policeman stopped us during the drive. “Police in Thailand, no good!” he said to me after he paid the man a bribe. The same thing happened to me a few times in Morocco.

We pulled up to the office, and I explained to the guards at the gate that I was a volunteer from Cambodia. Neither one of us spoke a common language, but he seemed impressed enough by my ID card that he let me through the gate. After checking in with the medical staff and the PCMO, I was introduced to some of the volunteers in their lounge area. I regaled them with stories of drunken counterparts, dengue fever, problems with Cambodian schools, insane host families, and hand-to-hand combat with rats. Their collective response was, “Wow, man, you’re really in the Peace Corps!” I hung out with them that night and during the next couple of days, and I had the distinct feeling that Peace Corps Thailand is much different program than ours.

First of all, Thailand has had volunteers for the almost last fifty years (By comparison, the current volunteers serving in Thailand are group 121 whereas ours in group 2). The country never suffered a brutal civil war, and it is largely developed country. I heard accounts of volunteers living in houses with cable TV, air conditioners, and washing machines (ridiculous!). In all fairness, they do have their own shares of language trouble and cultural difficulties. It never seemed like it was on the same scale though. Regardless of this, we were still able to swap stories about our shared experiences in the East. I am slowly starting to discover that the Peace Corps is such a unique experience to have that it creates a kind of bond between former or current volunteers. It does not matter what your assignment is, because just trying to survive out here can be a powerful experience to share.

Between Monday afternoon and Wednesday morning, I had almost two days of freedom to do whatever I wanted in the city of Bangkok. I walked around the expansive and air conditioned shopping malls and watched the new Star Trek movie in an actual movie theater, ate at Mexican restaurants and hamburger joints, took a water taxi down to the old part of town to see the giant golden Buddha, and bought some new clothes at a department store. The latter was of particular interest because pants that fit are an extremely rare find when buying clothes in this part of the world. It was a treat just to walk around a modern city at all.

I have no complaints about my stay in Bangkok, except that I wish that the Peace Corps had put me in a different hotel. While the hospital and hotel are all good and well, the fact is that the surrounding neighborhood is one of Bangkok’s center for sex tourism. Trying to get back to my hotel at night involved walking through crowds of streetwalkers, one look at whom would make you want to vomit. One volunteer even told me, “If you want the real Bangkok experience, take a girl home tonight and find out she’s a man.” I did not ask him how he came by such information. Like all modern cities, this one certainly has its dark underbelly.

Thursday morning, they had me on a plane out of Thailand at 7:40 in the morning. I suppose they don’t waste any time getting us back to our countries once our treatment has finished. By Monday morning, I was back at site teaching classes. I told everyone how wondrous Thailand was, but they did not seem impressed. It could be because of the vitriolic hatred that mostly everyone has towards the Thais, or that Cambodians are simply supreme masters of indifference towards all things non-Cambodian.

Knowing the people here, I would opt for the latter.