The Return From Chiangmai to Pai
I finally made my way to the bus station from Chiangmai at around 8pm the night after Honey left. I was to take a 12 hour bus ride from Chiangmai to Bangkok, and then a taxi to Chonburi to rendezvous with Honey in the city. I had said my goodbyes to everyone within the hostel whom I had grown acquainted with after the night before, and with my bags packed and eager to get back, I took a taxi using the InDrive app to the local bus station to prepare for my departure.
I walked up to the ticketing counter and purchased my ticket for the last bus out of Chiangmai for the night, and the next one wouldn’t be until 9am the next day. The driver and the attendant were actually the two rudest people I had come across in my time in Thailand so far, and they were not having any nonsense on the bus. I was waiting outside of the bus toilet (which was atrocious by the way, a massive bucket full of water used to scoop water out and into the toilet bowl- a squatter toilet nonetheless) and they were shouting at me in their broken English about how I needed to take a seat, even after pleading my case that I needed to use the restroom since the station restroom was closed.
After some simple pleading he threw his hands up and allowed me to use the restroom. I sat down in my seat, finally relieved, and went over my inventory of chargers and bags, souvenirs. Suddenly, dread came over me. I searched frantically, opening every bag, every zipper, every crevice around me, and the realization set in, I had left my Tilley Hat at the hostel. I was panic-stricken, this hat has come with me to 7 countries, and I held it as a staple of who I am, the Indiana Jones style adventurer taking on challenges around the world with my wide-brimmed Panama style Tilley Hat that captures the essence of a true explorer- What is an explorer without his hat? What is Indiana Jones without his Fedora? Waldo without his beanie? Charlie Chaplin without his bowler? Without my Tilley, I was going to feel like an integral part of my experience was stripped away from me, as it has been a defining characteristic of who I was.
I jumped out of the bus in Panic, going down to try to find out how to get in touch with the hostel in order for me to find a way to get my hat back, or else I would have surely lost it forever.
There is no worse feeling that leaving behind the one thing you cherish most. Little did I know, I would have a blessing by my side. As I tried explaining the situation to bus operators, the wife of the driver offered me her phone, as my phone did not have service in that location to make calls. I immediately called the Revolution Hostel back and they confirmed that there is indeed my hat, right where I left it on the bar counter.
“Please, hold on to that hat, if there is anything you can do, I will try to get it.”
The worker on the other end of the line told me, “Don’t worry, I can even ship it to you.”
I sighed a breath of relief as I told her, “thank you” countless times. I made arrangements for them to ship the hat to Honey’s address, and it would be delivered in a matter of days.
With that comfort, I sat back down in my seat, and rode the night bus for a long but overall comfortable journey to Bangkok. I was fast asleep in the darkness of the bus until abruptly the bus stopped. The doors opened and lights shined all around us. Uniformed military men stormed the bus. The 4 of them were checking the lower and upstairs level of the bus where I was. They were requesting documents from passengers, making accusations and profiling individuals that they would have suspicions of expired visas. I tried minding my own business, but I turned around and found one of the soldiers asking a Muslim woman to stand and search her documents before making his way up to my chair. He looked down on me, narrowed his eyes and grimaced through his burly mustache. For a moment, I thought he was going to make me stand and check my items, I had my passport in hand and bus ticket, but he stepped the side and pointed towards the ground.
In broken English, “This your things?” He asked.
I looked down and saw my wallet and folded money on the ground of the bus in the center isle. I nodded and grabbed them from the isle. They must have fallen out of my pocket while I slept, and I didn’t notice. Thankfully, no one else did either, which is good because of course my livelihood resides within that tiny RFID wallet. He stood around the in the bus and gave one final glance over, before making a hand gesture to his other men to leave the bus. The ordeal was over in less than 6 minutes, but I definitely was not trying to get on the wrong side of the Thai military or police force.
With another 6 hours to go, I slept the best I could, with the bus only making one stop early around 5am to get passengers something to eat and the driver a smoke break. I was, in fact, the only white guy surrounded by travelers from all around Asia on this bus, and ate alone in the wee hours of that morning. Soon, the sun would rise and I would find myself at the bus station at 8am.
The Taxi Scams
Once I arrived, I stepped off the bus and gathered my gear. The private party taxi drivers at the station are like ravenous dogs, looking to hunt their next victim..err… I mean customer, for them to poach with price hikes more than 3x the going rate for rides to unsuspecting passengers. It is a common scam in every location around the world. Of course, the situation is undoubtedly sad, as most travelers shoo them away, but I had no way to get back to Chonburi just yet. Luckily in Bangkok, there is a useful ride-share app called InDrive. It is a must have to find competitive prices to and from locations in a quick and convenient manner. I walked into the pack with confidence, as 4 or 5 of the drivers were offering to take me where I needed to go, until I said I’m headed to Bang Saen- about an hour and a half drive from Bangkok. Most of them backed off with two remaining, offering to take me for ridiculous prices such as 1,500 or 1,800 Baht (equivalent to around $45-50 USD). The InDrive app showed that most drivers would make the trip for around 800 Baht, plus an extra 200 Baht or so for the interstate tolls.
I tried making the argument with the drivers, but they were set in their prices, and wouldn’t budge to compete with the app’s prices. Of course I feel bad when I see an old man just trying to feed himself and his family, but in a world of competition, I am going to choose the competitive rate over a price hiked one. As I waited for the Thai ‘Uber’, I worked in conversation over a translator app to find why they don’t lower the prices, and essentially, they know a few unsuspecting tourists will take the prices provided to them without checking, and it does make them more money throughout the day if they get lucky to keep their uncompetitive margins. The downside is, so many drivers are competing in this one area at the bus station, staying ahead of the pack of other drivers takes an abundance of confidence and pressure to pull someone into their car.
My taxi rolled up and even as I was stepping into the car, I was getting offers over and over about prices they could do, but it was too late. I packed my bags, and hit the road, slumped dead in the back seat of the car for the duration of the ride until I arrived in Bang Saen later that morning.
The Return to Bang Saen
Bang Saen has been the comfortable home away from home. Honey was at school that day but she left her key with Nok, the beautiful Thai woman that lives below Honey’s apartment complex that, out of her home, also ran a fantastic kitchen for Pad ka Pao (minced beef with basil). She throws an egg on top of that and serves with Thai tea, and my heart is content with happiness. I greeted her and ran upstairs to finally crash on a bed after all that time and passed out until Honey came home.
Once there, the cogs were in motion for one of the most fulfilling and dedicating moments of my life. I had been in the works with Honey in communication with people from all around Thailand in finding a Temple that would take me on to become ordained as a Buddhist monk. The process was difficult, with money and offerings needing to be made in order for me to appropriate myself in the robes, get all necessary items, undergo the ceremonies with making offerings to each monk, and forming the official ceremonies. This conversation has been in the works since I was back in Chiangmai, when I met an amazing Uncle, Abu. Abu was a monk in his youth, and shared with me his story that he looked at me like his son, taking me under his wing to guide and perfect the vision that I wished to attain from the commitment of the ordination. He said that he wished that his sons would, in his honor, become a monk, and give respect on behalf of him to carry on his spirit it to the afterlife, and honor him as the father he was. He explained to me that both his sons never did this, as one moved to Laos, and never sees him, and the other converted to Islam. With this, he realized that his one wish of being honored by his sons as monks would not come to fruition, and that he would do everything he could in his power to aid me, in return that I could pray for him as a monk, and honor him, as my “adopted” father. I embraced him before I left, and told him I would, for him.
Once I made it to Bang Saen, Honey had been in contact with an Uncle that was the brother of an older woman next to Nok’s Shop. We called her Auntie. Uncle had connections to a local Wat called “Mai Ket Ngam.” With proper communication between more people than I realized, Honey, Auntie and I went out onto the town to get everything ready for this decision to become a monk. I only had a day to prepare. We needed flowers, meals for the monks, envelopes with money enclosed and everyone to be ready first thing in the morning to bring myself to the Wat with everyone whom I just met.
The Process was about to begin…