Cold Showers

May 14, 2017

Chiang Mai, Thailand

(Some of this post was already written to my Facebook page.  I had to cut some parts for length, and for information that I didn’t want to post to the general public. I’ve thought long and hard about whether to post this type of content about myself. I hope it’s the right decision.  I’ll try to write more about my Laos trip later. And finish my social media story)

Finally on my way back home. And by “home”, I mean Chiang Mai, Thailand. It’s funny how I now think of it that way. It’s not the new apartment into where I moved my belongings on May 1, right before I started this 11-day trip to Laos. I haven’t even slept there yet. But I can’t wait to get back and throw myself across the bed and just bask in the beauty of contentment of not living out of a backpack.

Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy living out of my backpack when I’m traveling. It’s a good backpack. A great one. The best backpack. Right now, it’s a wet backpack. I left my hostel this morning in the middle of a thunderstorm. Very heavy rain coming down from the sky that was just turning to a lighter shade of grey due to the sunrise. The type of rain that we in the southeastern US used to call a “gullywasher”. I really regret accidentally leaving my rain jacket in Luang Prabang. I was lucky enough to catch a tuktuk to the airport while standing under an awning near the hostel. I was unlucky enough to get hit by a rogue wave created by a pickup truck passing through a monster puddle in the other direction. The tuktuk driver was drenched, and I believe that his cigarette was extinguished by the splash. I felt bad for him, and I paid him extra when we reached the airport. He gave me a grateful smile as I turned to walk into the terminal. I hope that when I land in Chiang Mai, it’s dry. Otherwise that is going to be a long motorcycle ride.

My last day in Laos was a mixture of relaxation and anticipation. Part of the reason I extended my trip was to meet up with a dear friend and former couchsurfing guest from Indonesia. Marsella and I have kept in touch since meeting two years ago in Chicago. So it was really nice to see her again and catch up, even though it was only briefly. She and two friends were catching the sleeping bus to Luang Prabang that evening. Later, I enjoyed a nice dinner with a couple of locals and a French guy. Something called lam bo, which contained beef, onions, and peppers, and was definitely up there on the spicy level.

Back in Udon Thani last evening, I was greeted by a stray cat. I was enjoying a 10baht ice cream cone from McDonald’s and I shared the last bit with her. She seemed to be really hungry, so I went back inside and ordered her a Happy Meal ™ with chicken nuggets. She devoured the meat after I pulled off the breading and broke it up so it would cool more quickly. I ate the apple slices. I ordered the meal with milk, but kitty wasn’t interested. She didn’t seem to be impressed with the Super Mario toy either.

On the walk back to the hostel, I stopped at a bar called “Rock House”, which promised live music every night. I stepped inside and saw no band and zero customers. Disappointed, I was about to walk away, but the small outdoor bar in front seemed inviting and there was good music playing from the stereo. The beer special was for three large bottles of Chang, and on a hot, muggy evening, cold beer was just too tempting. I wasn’t really about to walk away. I had arrangements to meet someone here at the bar, and I was waiting for her.

When she arrived, I was two beers in, and I shared the last one with her. She was very pretty, and her English was good. We talked and laughed and flirted, as two people might do at a bar. We ended up ordering two more beers before we decided to leave. I was staying just around the corner at a hostel. Now, normally, a hostel is not a good place to bring a romantic interest, because of the whole dormitory setting. But I was certain that I was the only person checked in to the room where I was staying, so I decided to risk it. The night custodian unlocked the gate for us, and didn’t even blink an eye at the fact that I was no longer just one person. We walked up the narrow stairway to the third floor, and I opened the door that bore a picture of Paul McCartney. To the left was a drawing of John Lennon. I’m not sure where George and Ringo were.

Her reaction to seeing three sets of bunkbeds was the expected one. I had explained to her that I travel using hostels and don’t normally stay in a hotel, but she was still a bit shocked. However, it only took a few seconds to see that there were no other beds occupied at 12am, and that we were the only ones there. What happened next was both surprising and disappointing, though really, it should have been neither. She made it clear to me that she wanted to be paid.

When you find out that someone really is not interested in you as a person, maybe not even attracted to you, and that the reason that they have been pretending that they are in order to get something from you, it really kind of hits you. I felt stupid. I felt embarrassed. And I felt a little bit angry. Angry at myself for getting caught in this situation. And angry at her for not being upfront about it when we first talked. Of course I wasn’t about to pay her. She complained about having paid cab fare to come see me, and that she would have to pay for it to go back. I gladly would have paid her cab fare, as I had for the drinks, had the context been different. But now things were changed. I told her no. And she got up and walked downstairs and out the gate. I just shook my head and went to bed, because I had to be up in less than five hours to go to the airport.

I don’t hold any moral judgements about women (or men) who provide for themselves and their families by selling their affections. Sometimes that is really the only real opportunity that they might have. I have had good, meaningful conversations with “bar girls”, and I could even maintain a friendship with them. But I don’t really want to support the institution. For much the same reason, I will not go to an elephant camp where they offer rides, because the very cruel way that the elephants are broken to be trained. I refuse to have my picture taken with or to pet a tiger at the places that offer the chance, because the tigers are heavily drugged in order for them to be safe enough to be around tourists. I may not share the same morality about sexual relations that you have for yourself, but I certainly don’t want mine to be monetarily transactional. In retrospect, I had a better time with the cat at McDonald’s.

There may be some who will point out that maybe I am being transactional about it, because I pay for the drinks, or dinner, or movie, or whatever other expenditures that a date entails. If you feel that way, then you do not know me like you think you do. I pay for those things (when I can) because I still believe in chivalry. I never once have expected anything in return as far as bedroom favors. If both parties are desiring that, then okay, that’s great. But that is the exception to the rule. Usually, the evening ends when both of us say we had a nice time, maybe a kiss goodbye and then we part ways. I don’t believe that my dates owe me anything except for kindness and conversation.

The single life that I have chosen for now is not always easy. I have many female friends, and I find myself attracted to several of them. However, I must be careful of romantic entanglements with them, because I have decided that I will be better off not being in a relationship for the time being, and I do not want to risk a good friendship for the pleasure (and possible ensuing drama) that a sexual encounter may bring. Sometimes I find myself lonely. I question my choice from time to time. But knowing that I’m not in a position or willing to give the type of effort and attention that a successful relationship requires, I think that it’s the right choice. It’s difficult navigating these waters, and I’ve made mistakes that I regret. Hurting someone else because of my selfishness is something that I dwell on for a long time.

I had a nice flight home to Chiang Mai, where the sun was shining. The motorcycle ride back home was refreshing. I took a nice shower to wash away the sweat from my traveling and then I enjoyed just chilling out in front of the new fan that I purchased. I dozed off listening to my Spotify account and some kids splashing happily in the pool outside my window.

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