It’s been a long time. It tends to get a little harder to write about the job when things are going downhill. I’ve now reached level ground, and I’m coasting. I have a smile on my face. Sometimes it’s not about where you end up, but about how much you enjoyed the ride. I’ve just spent four months working in the most surreal job environment that I wouldn’t ever be able to dream up this story. Most businesses are built on premises of making money or maximizing efficiency. As I’ve come to find out, I came to Vietnam to help a very rich woman feel wafts of grandeur in her attempt to self entertain by opening a very expensive chiropractic clinic. But I also found love, friendship, loyalty, and camaraderie across cultural boundaries, and there is no greater reward.
I’ve left the job in Hanoi, and am taking some time to sit in my bungalow on the beach for a few weeks/months in some other country in Asia. I will be writing my story, which I fear may end up being part comedy . . . and that’s fantastic! It may not be over for me in Vietnam, but if it is, it still may not be over for me working in Asia. I will choose my next opportunity with great care. I will post stories to my blog as I go if they are appropriate to my safety in going back to Vietnam. If the time ever comes when I decide that I’m never going back to Vietnam, I will either post all stories, or just write a book. As I said in blog number 1, I was excited as anyone to see how it all turned out, and I know I’ve got a page turner brewing. Stay tuned!
This morning I had two tickets to Bangkok. This is a sign of poor planning, but for once in my life I don’t really care. For the past five days, I’ve been marooned on Koh Tao, the furthest island you can get out to by regular passenger ferry off the east coast of Thailand.
Here are the feelings about traveling that I’ve gathered up on this trip. It’s not about the places you go; it’s about the people you meet. Traveling has become such a cliche that it seems most people tick off destinations just for their social resume. Let’s see how many countries we can squeeze into three weeks. Every time I go somewhere new, I wonder how I’m going to be absorbed by the place. I have the understanding that, sure, there’s a good show to be seen as represented by the paragraphs in the travel guidebooks, and for many people that’s all that gets premiered. No behind the scenes. No figuring it out on their own. That’s pretty sad.
Koh Tao is one of the premiere diving destinations in the world. It’s a quiet, peaceful little island, with only a handful of streets to walk. I stayed in a seedy little motel on the fourth floor, dorm style, with shared bathroom facilities. Us fourth floor kids formed a bit of a club, and spent a fair amount of time shooting the shit sitting in the open breezeway outside our rooms. I learned cockney from Gary . . . fridge freezer for geezer, apples and pears for stairs, having a bubble bath for laugh. Jantzen taught me about youthful abandon. Cat reminded us to live from the heart. Traveling is about giving something up to make room for “the new.” There’s only so much room in each of us, so please don’t forget to do your spring cleaning.
As I’ve come to find out, it’s a pretty big chore to get “off” these islands. I knew I was leaving on the fifth of February, but I didn’t exactly check my departure time from the airport. It takes three hours to get to the Surat Thani Airport from Koh Samui by ferry and bus. You can imagine how my heart sank when I realized I was supposed to fly out at 8:45 am and I was absolutely set on spending one last night on Koh Samui. I self convinced that there was some magical high speed ferry that left at 5 am. Then I grabbed Kaz and hauled him over for his first trip to Koh Samui after living on Koh Tao for five months.
After walking down the gangplank, a taxi driver asked us, “Where to?” “No idea!” We examined the map and picked the closest town. It was still a twenty minute drive, and I felt my escape plan slipping away. We got dropped off on your typical crap tourist beach street, no different from Phuket or Myrtle Beach. Gross. Take me back to Koh Tao. I found the most lovely Israeli travel agent and explained my predicament. She’s been living on the island for 8 years, just reading books, watching the ocean, and perfecting her seven languages. She feared for my safety in carrying out the Surat Thani trip, because it would mean leaving Koh Samui that night and finding accommodations in the middle of nowhere with not a white person in sight. And that is how I ended up spending a small fortune to fly from Koh Samui to Bangkok this morning to make my connection to Hanoi. It was one last night to carve my name in the sand and watch the ocean cleanse the palette for the next barrage of FOBs (fresh off the boat). I wish I could have seen it 30 years ago before it became another Any Town tourist destination. As my taxi to the airport pulled off the main drag at 5 am, I saw my fair share of young white men stumbling out of clubs with the music still booming, pretty little thai girls shortly in tow.
