On the way to a dinner date with Nong

All Bangkok taxi drivers are superstitious to the max, often orinating from Thailand`s poor north, wearing several Buddha pendants around their necks, go to the wat every morning to make an offering of rice, garlands and moonshine whiskey, cuban sigars and sigarettes to the spirits that rule their fears, the spiritual world of the goddess whose image adourns the inside of Bangkok taxis, whose pendant hangs around the necks of the countless motorbike taxi drivers in this huge staeming metropole.

I try to concentrate on the powerfull Buddha pendant hanging around my own farang neck, my tighs clasped tightly against the upperlegs of the taxi driver while he skillfully wringles through the Bangkok traffic jams. I fear for my kneecaps with only centimeters to spare at both sides, mere inches to the cars we pass at both sides, we round a corner at a 45 degree angle paying no heed to all the people who crowd the streets of Bangkok`s China Town.

Bangkok`s Chinese population preparing for the upcoming Chinese New Year. The admosphere is festive with many farangs mixing with the crowd of mostly in red dressed locals, elefants marching down Charoen Krung Thanon, the Chinese dragon dancing in the street while fire crackers go off at an deavening sound, farang tourists desperately trying to capture it all with digital camaras, endless rows of chinese shops all having a small spirit temple nailed to the wall, the bony faces of Khatoes disapaer behind me while my driver carefully avoids two fat Americans tourist ladies, white cotton dresses spanning over large layers of pink behinds "wow, did you see the elfants?"

Then the mayhem is behind me when we leave the Chinese District. We pass the Wat Traimit were I tell the driver to stop, I want to make a quick offering to Lord Buddha before my dinner date with Nong.

The expensive five star Shangri-La Hotel is set on the bank of the Chao Praya River and while I pay my driver, tipping him generously and wishing him a safe night with many customers so he can visit the girly bars tonight - I know the Thai after all - I watch the hotel`s security guards dressed in their heavenly blue uniforms, handcuffs and battons dangling from their belts, playing Thai checkers at a wooden table with Chang bottle tops.

I enter the gigantic lobby, my heat heavy like a whole brick wall is pressing down on it, trying to think about the good Thai food I will soon eat, trying to ignore the stupid fact I`ll in mere minutes meet the most important woman in my life.

For a moment I feel like running away as I`ve been running all of my life but then I see her, a bit more full in the face, a bit more weight on her once lith small body...she sees me too, walking toward me slowly...we wai each other politely, she carefully holding her clasped hands a bit lower down her face as mine and therby showing me respect, no embraces and public shows of emotionsas is common in the West but frowned upon in King Bhumipol`s Nation.

written by  heraclio on April 10, 2009 from Bangkok, Thailand
from the travel blog: Farang Chronicles.
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