Been reading like a fiend, writing like crazy, getting Thai massages, eating amazing food, swimming… but not much else, really. I don’t think that is a shortcoming, though. It is perfect.

One of the pleasures where we live is watching the sun set every night. The tourist areas on Koh Samui (Lamai and Chaweng) are on the southeast and east of the island, respectively. So, at night here, it just… gets dark. Ban Tai, where I am staying is at the very northern spance of the island, and every single night we all gather on our front porches, on the beach, in the water, and watch the sun set.

It is one of our pleasures of the day. We take pictures of it, knowing they will never capture one eighth of what we are feeling, or seeing, and that people will just eventually flip through them in a stack (”Sunset… sunset… sunset…”) But to be in this place, with Koh Phangan in silhouette to our right, glistening water and long-tailed fishing boats in front of us, and the sloping shoer headed to the more brilliant sunsets ever to our left, pure heaven.

Last night, Jamey and I swam together as the sun set. It was possibly his last night in Koh Samui. Today, he takes a boat and bus to Bangkok, and then continue north a bit to a teaching job he found. His yoga studio is here, the swimming is here, his friends are here, but he had a strong desire to feel rooted, to be earning money in Thailand, and not just spending his savings continually. The problem with Koh Samui is that everything happens on island time, so he has had a series of job interviews, or rather, a series of appointments. Each has ended the morning of the appointment, with the guy who runs the English school saying he wasn’t in the office that day, and to reschedule it for the middle of the following week. So, another week gone by, and then the same thing happens again.

The new job is helping him get his work visa, which only needs renewal every 90 days, unlike the passport which has to be renewed (by crossing the border) every 30 days. The life he wants is down here, the work he found is further north, so we’ll see what happens. Even if he is discontented with that job, he may return, but unless it is pure awful, that will likely occur after I am back in SF.

We had an amazing time together, though, and shared many talks deep into the night, beautiful meals, and really established the roots of a friendship that we both want to continue. So, in a little over two weeks, I think we moved from acquantainces to friends, which is great. Not to mention, he will be here a year, and possibly go to India after this, so I will have someone with continual exotic locales to visit.

I was reflecting on that last night. People kept saying that this was the “experience of a lifetime,” being in Thailand. But I really don’t see it that way. Sure, the six weeks off is unusual, but Thailand, to me, is a plane ride away from home. Everywhere is. On a cost basis alone, it makes more sense to come here than many other locales. I will spend less here for six weeks than I did on the entire Carribean cruise.

On the reading front, to catch things up, I finished Lolita, and am still cold in the shadow of its brilliance. Must read more Nabokov. I also read Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Catcher In The Rye, Siddhartha, and am halfway through The Great Gatsby (although I’m not feeling it yet).Tiffany’s was delightful, and amazingly I never saw the movie, so that is on the to-do list for my return. Catcher in the Rye kept me up late into the night, reading with the quick exuberance of its brilliant narrator. I had forgotten how delightful it all was, not sure when I read it last. Siddhartha makes me want to read more Hesse, and I do have Steppenwolf at home, so we’ll have to check that out.

Great Gatsby… I appreciate it, so far, but it isn’t flooring me, and I thought it would. It is about the roraing 20s and the jazz age, and frankly, that era never interested me, but still, I guess I’m surprised that it is not keeping me rapt. I will finish that in the next day or so. Many of the books I read previously, and had planned to discard in Thailand, are all with Jamey now, on their way north. Well, actually, his ferry leaves Koh Samui in an hour, so not quite north yet.

That’s it, really. Just in Chaweng for the afternoon, and finally went down to the beach… now, from one perspective, such as having recently been to New Jersey, it seems barren. But compared to Ban Tai, it is a resort, and noisy, and constant chattering, and… well, I always enjoy leaving Chaweng. Probably hit a yellow curry class later in the week, but otherwise, I’ll be back at my beach.

As promised, this entry will be about the elusive durian. Well, it’s not really elusive, it just tends not to be available prominently in the tourist areas since, well, it tends to smell bad.

So, yesterday, I head to Na Thon, which is the largest city on Koh Samui and where most people arrive by ferry. The lady who cooks at my bungalow said I will find a huge market there with lots of durian. Like most everything here, of course, there is no direction, no landmarks, just that it is there.

I mention to Johann, one of the Germans, that night, that I am going to find a durian the next day, and he asks if I have ever had one before. I say no. He says, well, it smalls like fresh piss, tastes OK once you get passed the taste, and then makes you feel warm all over. He said he was getting one soon to share with the other Germans, as they had never had one, either.

Fresh piss or no, I get on the truck and head for Na Thon. Of course, I go on the map to where it says “Giant Supermarket,” but of course, there are no durian. I was just hoping that was what my landlady meant. I keep walking around, and I keep going past where the tourist stuff is, because I figure I won’t find Durian there. I end up in a street that is all Thai, I see no other tourists. And then, I see, at a stand in the distance, about 8 or 9 durian.

I go up to the woman running the stand, and ask her how to pick a fresh one, she just says no, no, and makes some gesture that indicates she doesn’t speak English. Some guy from the back comes up and knocks on one, and nods that I should take that one. The woman, however, says no, and points to another.

The are speaking in Thai, of course, and I have no way of knowing whether one is trying to give me one that is going (and will smell) bad, or one that is nice and fresh. The woman wins out, and he says I should take the one she indicated. In front of the durian, they had other durian already cut up and ready to eat. As the durian is a little sketchy and I’m not sure how I’m going to open this thing up anyway, I decide to take one intact and one cut-up, although the cut-up ones looked a bit old.

I point that I will take this one (pointing to the intact durian) and that one (pointing to the cut up one). He starts yelling to the woman in Thai, and I wonder what this could possibly mean. He takes my durian to her 30 feet away in the back of the store, and they are talking. Both cost 40 baht, so I am ready to just pay 80 and leave. Finally, the old woman comes up front with a large knife and my durian, and starts chopping it up, finding seams that I can’t even detect in the fruit, and letting its perfect pods of flesh fall onto a styrofoam dish. Apparently, my indication to buy both was interpreted as make this one like that one, the whole fruit nice and ready to eat. This is a fine language barrier, as I am getting a fresh durian expertly prepared for me.

Once I buy my durian, of course, there is durian everywhere I look. Every store seems to have durian. And, as I look between two fruit stands, I see what the lady at my bungalows meant. When you walk between them, there is a whole farmer’s market filled with everything you would ever want, and a lot you wouldn’t. Most of the Thai women running the stands are asleep on platforms in the middle of their goods, which are everything from seafood to spices to veggies to fruits…

On the way back to the trucks, I pick up some lychee, and some other fruit. I can’t really say what it is, as I don’t know. It looks like a bunch of small russet potatoes (in color) all clinging to a branch. When you peel off the thick skin, it is separated into large clear pods, and tastes like lychee with a citrus kick to it. Some have small seeds, but most dont have any. Good stuff whatever it is.

So, I head home with my durian find and the other random fruit.

When I arrive home, I of course, open up the bag containing the durian. I take a big whiff, prepared for the worst, and find it odd-smelling, but not necessarily unpleasant. If Yankee made a candle of it, I would probably never buy it, but it isn’t awful. I tear off some of the flesh and eat it, and it starts chewy, but then forms a sort of pudding, silken tofu texture in my mouth.

Most things that are acquired tastes, I typically don’t like. I expected to just be repulsed by this, eat some for the sake of it, and tossing the rest. But, that isn’t the case, I probably eat one of the pods in its entirety, which is the equivalent of downing a yam, and go for a swim.

My stomach does feel slightly warm, but again, it’s hard to tell how much is the fruit and how much is my anticipation that my stomach should be warm after eating it. It’s not as obvious as doing tequila shots and getting that obvious glow burning inside you. But, as I swim, it does seem to make my body warmer. Either the durian or the fact that it is mid-afternoon and I’m swimming in the tropics. Or both.

I called Johann over as he passed, and had him try it. He said it smells much better than any durian he has ever had. He said they bought one the same morning, but it is still intact, so he said if it is horrible when they open it up, he will bring me some.

Now, here where the durian is only a buck or so, it is a mild amusement for me. When impotred, I think it can go for as much as eight dolars in San Francisco. So, while I didn’t have any negative experience with the durian, I wouldn’t say it was positive either. It was just there.

But at least I know now the taste of durian.

As we last left our narrator, he was attempting to attend his first cooking class…

Cooking class went well. It will be important to cook these when I get home, though, just for reinforcement. Not to mention, we didn’t cook one entree, then cook another, etc. We prepared the ingredients for each, in the order they would be added to the wok. So, one small dish would have the green onion, coriander root, and random greens. One the dried shrimps, pickled turnips, etc. And then, when we had everything ready to make pad thai, we would stop, they would put your student number on the dish (I was #10), and whisk it away.

Then we prepared the coconut milk soup with seafood ingredients, which was prawns and calamari, btw, and then that stuff all got whisked away. Then, we readied the ingredients for the chicken (in my case tofu) and green curry, and then that got whisked away. (As for my eating seafood here, it is more out of necessity (I’m on an island in the south Pacific) than desire, my inclination is that I will not be pesco in California.)

Finally, we made our green curry paste from scratch. I know for a fact that any green curry from a jar or reconstituted will never taste this good, but at the same time, it was a LOT of preparation (30 minutes) for less than two tablespoons of curry. So, we’ll see…

So, the class was nice, leisurely, informative. The teacher kept giving us the history of Thai food, and showing us what we could substitute in some of the dishes (coriander stems if you can’t find the root, etc.), and it was a very slow, graceful 90 minutes.

The last 30 or so minutes was in the other room, the non-air conditioned room, which had 10 student gas burners and one for the teacher. And, although it went along OK, it was a lot of chaos. Add your noodles now. Add your greens now. And, pad thai did appear before you, but it was very fast. The second you finished your pad thai, you dumped it on a dish, they added your student number, and whisked it away. Others grabbed your wok. Others added a pot. Others came by with coconut milk. Add your milk to the pot, etc., etc., until you had made all three dishes.

Afterward, we went upstairs to the restaurant, Jamey showed up as we were finishing the cooking, and we ate what I had prepared. And, it was the best food I have had in Thailand. I do wonder how many corners get cut everywhere else. The ingredients that you won’t miss being left out, etc. The green curry paste from a jar, etc.

One downside was that during the class, very nonchalant, the teacher asks if we would like soemthing to drink while we prepare things. The class is already pricy, so I think it is a nice touch. So, I have white wine while we prepare things, another with dinner. Jamey has a coffee, and is happy that it is real coffee, as instant is apparently everywhere on the island. And, as I was leavig to pick up my recipes, etc., I get hit with a drink bill. So, that seemed a bit chintzy, especially to not mention it. But it is a small matter, and next time, I will stick with my water. Jamey, who met the owner of the culinary institute, says he plans to mention it to him, as he seems more perturbed than I was about it.

I will be taking a few more classes there, I think. I’m still on the fence as to whether I should take the lunch classes (curry paste already made for you), or dinner classes (make your own), as there is a severe price difference, not to mention, it is moer expensive to get a ride home at that house, since the trucks stop running between Chaweng and Na Thon. We shall see…

Otherwise, not doing much. Will finish Lolita tonight. Going to swim in a bit.

Tomorrow, however, I think I am headed into Nathon. The lady who runs my bungalows said they have a big farmer’s market there, and I will find durian aplenty. So, I think tomorrow will be all about the durian.

For those of you unsure about the durian, you can visit http://www.durianpalace.com/

As I understand it, it is an acquired taste. The fruit smells awful long before it actually goes bad. Some places in Asia post signs that no durian is allowed there, due to the smell. After you eat it, you will burp a lot and it will have an awful taste. Your body temperature will rise. But you will either think it is wretched or one of the most amazing fruits available on the planet. We will find out which camp I am in shortly.

Just killing some time waiting for my cooking class to start in an hour. Learning to make green curry paste, green curry with tofu (instead of chicken), coconut milk soup with seafood, and pad thai. We’ll see if I like the classes here, as I could easily take more. Jamey should be showing up for a free meal, as you make too much to eat, so hopefully I do well, as we both have to eat it.

Yesterday, Jamey came over to do his yoga in my bungalow. I had said I wanted to see what I’m supposedly working up to do, so he came and did all 72 positions (or more, perhaps, as he is onto the second set and I wasn’t counting). It probably took an hour or more. It is intimidating to watch, especially if the point is in preparation to put yourself on a path to do it. But it was intriguing and daunting, equally.

I think I am going to sign up at a yoga studio when I return to SF (shudder), rather than rejoin the gym. Basically, there was no way to actually “freeze” my membership, since I’m month to month, so they just had me cancel, and said to come back. I may just spend more and sign up for a month at the yoga studio Jamey recommended in Noe Valley. My cardio is covered, since I have an elliptical trainer in my apartment, so that might be a better combination. I know that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But that doesn’t apply here anyway.

Yoga just seems to have more of what I want, as far as the meditative angle, the flexibility, the grace, the spiritual angle. It makes the thought of pushing weights seem like barbarism. Not to mention, the end results from weight training and yoga are so vastly different, and I would far more ascribe for the yoga end result. It is just so much work to get there. I can grunt and push the stupid weights easily enough. But, I think it is time to try for something more.

Writing goes well. I’m sick of writing about that in this journal already, though. So, I won’t. There are months and months about writing for those interested, just jump back a few months before Thailand.

My bungalows have become overrun with Germans, all friends, a couple on each side of me and one down the way a bit. It is actually much better than the people from England who were there previously, as I haven’t a clue what they are saying. It makes for good writing when all the voices I hear are mainly in Thai and German, since I can write in peace. Unlike the Brit saying, “You coming down to the beach soon, love?” That pulls my focus.

I will say about today’s writing one thing, as I cannot help myself at times. I think I laughed the entire time I wrote it. It was a delight. All new stuff, not a rehash of something I’d tried before, so that was pleasant.

Basically, I am using the Stephen King writing method, merely adapted for the tropics. He writes in the morning, does stuff around the house in the afternoon, and then reads at night. So, I swim in the morning, then write, then swim, then play cards or write some more, then swim, then read at night. If Stephen King moved to south east Asia, this would probably be his schedule.

Oh well, time to see a bit of Chaweng, and then make some paste.

Been doing a lot of swimming in my cove. It may seem like it would be boring to swim in the same area every day, but in fact, it has never been the same twice.

I don’t know if it is the season, or a normal occurrence, but the beach changes every day.

Yesterday, when I was at the same distance out as the rocks that jut out, I couldn’t touch the bottom of the water. I had to sink down about a foot to press my feet into the sand. This morning, I was at the same place, and I could stand with the water well under my chest.

Some days I have 15 feet of sand before the water, other times, only two feet. So, it is a new experience every time.

Still finding a routine here. Lately, it has been breakfast, swimming, writing, swimming, lunch, writing, playing cards, reading, swimming, reading, sleeping. Not a bad way to spend the day.

I keep trying to write out of desire and not because I want to, or feel I should. Going OK so far.

One interesting thing about the reading list, though. It is intimidating as all hell.

Doing any writing while reading Lolita seems useless. I mean, it is such a brilliant, masterful work. Anthing you write will pale in comparison. But then, that iswhy we are still erading it after nearly 50 years. It is a master work.

I have to keep reminding myself that my immediate influences are more Chuck Palahniuk and Stephen King, and not Nabokov, Fitzgerald, and the like.

Not much new to report, I think I will take a cooking class on Tuesday. Just going to repeat the above schedule until then.

So, while I was in Chaweng after writing the last post, I found the Samui Institute for Thai Culinary Arts, where I can learn to cook Thai food while I’m here, not sure what days to go, as it all looks so good. They teach different menus seven days a week, both lunch and dinner menus (with dinner, it costs more, but you make your own curry paste from scratch).

But as I returned from the cooking school, I realized I was at a hotel familiar only because I remember one of the gay bars saying they were across the street from that hotel. So, I went down the side street, and found it easily enough.

And it was basically deserted. There was one gay couple at one of maybe four or five tables, no one at the bar but the two bartenders, no one at any of the four Internet terminals, and there were two tables out front. The tables out front were filled with about four to five Thai prostitutes, who all said hi and smiled as I entered.

I went to the bar, ordered a soda, and planned to leave right after. Then, one of the Thai boys said something in Thai to the bartenders, who left the bar, and he came around and we did the usual, where you from, how you like Thailand, etc., etc.

His name was Dae (I think, pronounced Day), and he was mid-20s, effeminate, and Thai. Queeny Asian works for me, always has, and if we were in SF, I would be interested in him. If, you know, he wasn’t a prostitute and all.

I ended up looking at the Internet terminals, and I hear, “You very very hot,” and I think, OK, here we go. But when I turn to him, he is holding out a napkin, as I was sweating due to the humidity that swept in after the rain ended. I wipe my forehead, and he tells me that I should get a massage.

“You need boy to give massage, not like girls out there.” He scrunches up his nose and gestures out to the main street on Chaweng, where most massages are given by women. He tells me he has been on Koh Samui only a month, and that he just took a month-long Thai massage class in Bangkok before that.

He says “We go upstairs, boy give you massage (he gestures to himself), and then after massage, happy-happy-happy.” The happyhappyhappy was almost sung, in descending notes, and he smiled widely.

I told him I was too tired for a massage, and that I needed to go home now. I said that if he gave me a massage I would be asleep long before happy.

He pulled in tighter and said that he could go home with me, give me a massage in my bungalow, happyhappyhappy, then he could spend the night, then more happy in morning.

I told him no, but that I would see him later, as I would be taking cooking classes around the corner.

I won’t, of course, but I didn’t want to just say no and be rude to someone who wanted to make me happy.

For no specific reason, I decided to come into Chaweng at night and see what it is like. Amazingly, it is not as busy as I had expected. I guess it really is the off season here.

There are more people than in the morning, but many places are empty.

I’m rather sore right now, as Jamey took me through the first few ashtanga poses. That was yesterday. We were supposed to do more today, but we couldn’t because he is just learning how to ride a motorbike, and by the time he got done practicing and running errands, he had to head home or risk riding the bike at night. He’s not ready for that yet. He says we will do some tomorrow morning, although I am supposed to do my sun salutes tonight on my own, no matter how awful I do them without guidance.

The debate keeps coming up whether I should be staying in a more populated area, seeing more islands, doing more. Above me in the Internet cafe, there are posters for all the things you can do on Samui. But none of it calls me. A few things (elephant trekking, monkey shows) I am specifically not doing because they are a bit dodgy in their treatment of animals.

Kirk replied to my e-mail and reminded me that this issue will be a constant battle, being social versus being alone. As a writer, I need solitude. As a person, I need companionship and social interaction. So, the balance extends beyond Thailand into everything, basically.

I do question whether my time in Thailand would be spent differently if I were here with a boyfriend. The whole place seems to be loaded with couples. Even before I came here, I went out to dinner with Geoff and Matt, friends who came to Thailand within the past year as a couple, and to hear them tell their stories, complete details they thought the other left out, etc. It seemed to be more interesting as a shared experience. I thought of that today as a couple was swimming in the cove by my bungalow. They were swimming closely, pointing in the distance at Koh Phagnan, saying whatever they were saying… and it just seemed like that would be more fun. Some things can’t be solved that quickly, though.

I spent all day yesterday concentrating on a specific “big issue” topic (it was supposed to be “sex”, but turned into “intimacy”), using the hours I never have in the city to attack it from all angles. It had to be 5 to 7 hours spent just thinking. Then Jamey came over and I told him all about it, and he shared his thoughts on the subject as well. Then we swam, had my first yoga lesson, gave Jamey a massage, he went home, and I went to bed.

In bed, I was restless, as I had filled my head with so much that it needed out. So, I turned the light back on and just flew through writing a six-page essay/short story. I’m not sure if it will ever be useful on its own, but I do like it for what it is. Not for the first novel, it is completely hitting themes of my second unwritten book.

Today, I swam, did 100 push-ups, and read nearly half of the Dalai Lama’s How To Practice book. Good stuff so far, no quick fixes, but very little of the important stuff in life is.

Well, I think I will see a bit more of Chaweng and then head back to Ban Tai. It’s always a bit difficult at night, as the truck keeps driving until you ring the bell, and my destination is so quiet and remote.

So, the other day I finished Life of Pi and enjoyed it immensely. It concerns an Indian boy who ends up trapped on a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with a tiger. It is a very spiritual book, funny at times, dark others. I don’t think I will live inside me for very long, but it was an enjoyable time while it was there.

And, yesterday, mainly due to the rain, I started and finished The Beach, which is the quintessential Thailand book. Despite the movie, I was able to get into it amazingly easy without picturing the movie characters, mainly because I had done and experienced so much of the intro to the book. Bangkok, Kho Sahn Road, the characters in the book even take the same train ride and spend time in Chaweng on Koh Samui. Great characters, great story… beautiful writing, very Lord of the Flies.

Next up, by Jamey’s request (as it is one of his favorites and he wants us to talk about it), Lolita…

Back in Chaweng, mainly to call home (done) and check out some vegetarian Thai cooking classes… then it is back to my cove ASAP.

Still no yoga, will have to happen soon, though, as Jamey’s swim trunks and cell phone charger are at my bungalow.

Last time I was in Chaweng, I ended up calling Jamey, who said we would be getting together that night to see his friend Pattea (I am surely butchering the spelling) sing with a band, it was her first time singing in Thailand. So, I headed out, but then when I called him to see if he was nearby in Chaweng, he was actually at my bungalow, so I grabbed a cab back and we hung out the rest of the day.

Jamey… hmm. Basically, Jamey is like traveling with a walking Abercrombie & Fitch ad. His body is completely toned, but more than that clothes just seem to lay on him in ways that they never will me, or most people. When I arrived at my bungalow, on my front porch were his clothes, but no sign of him. I knew he was in the water somewhere, so I continued reading and knew he would turn up.

Eventually, he did, but as I figured that would mean he would come out of the water, he yelled “Come in! It’s too beautiful!” So, I quickly put on my bathing suit and headed in.

Jamey really gives his body a workout in the water. He would do butterfly strokes for seemingly 20 yards or more, and each time, it seemed his entire upper body lurched out of the water entirely. Then, he would stop, swim back to where he started, and butterfly all over again. The hardest part is getting him out of the water.

So, we both take quick showers, and get ready to head out for a very late lunch, and to hear his friend sing. As he was wearing his bathing suit under his jeans, I offer him my boxer briefs, and he puts them on. Somehow the garment that functions as underwear for me became a Calvin Klein ad. When he added in his jeans, rolled up to the knee, and a white Armani tuxedo shirt, his clothes basically were this formless mass that just hang off of him perfectly.

When he got a call from his mother while we were eating, he walked on the side of the road, and everything just flowed on him effortlessly. He would put his arms up in a stretch over his head, as yoga is kind of an ongoing process for him, he will stretch whenever he can. The neckline of his tuxedo shirt dipped down to the middle of his shoulders and upper back. The sides crawled up to show off his waist and apollo’s belt, and the jeans hung perfectly to show the Calvin Klein label of my underwear.

Now, I don’t want to give the wrong impression. Or, rather, one side of it.

Jamey is also just an amazing person. He always seems so there. When you are talking, he is always with you, and never just waiting for his moment to talk (that is from some movie, but eluding me right now). He questions why you did or are doing certain things. He is seemingly oblivious about his beauty, but then again, if you’ve always had something, why wouldn’t you be. He is just so present, together, and grounded, it is refreshing.

I have so much to learn from Jamey. Yoga is probably the one thing he will teach me that I can learn from someone else, but there will be other life lessons in the process. I am ready for as many gifts as possible from him. But his ability to live in the now so fully is the most attractive. I think that takes time, though.

As some of you might have thought, this trip on occassion has seemed like a very special episode of Queer as Folk where somehow Ted and Justin end up traveling through Thailand together.

Anyway…

We were running late for the performance. We were supposed to be there an hour early and now we are hoping to be on time. Jamey, only in Thailand a week before me, refuses to be taken advantage of by the taxis and trucks, and haggles with them at every chance. He gets us on our initial truck for 30 baht each, whereas I have paid the 50 continually without question. This morning, someone told me 100, and I refused to get on, so I’m getting there.

We get off near where we think the bar is and eat at a stand on the sidewalk. It turns out we are not near the bar, as we had hoped, so we run back to the main road, and before I know it, we are on motorbike taxis, individually, although he bartered the price before we got on, and we end up at the club with time to spare.

She ends up singing four songs, and despite being nervous initially, eventually warms up to being onstage. The bar, Secret Garden, is basically a favorite for ex-pats, even the menu is devoid of Thai food, and more of a regular picnic fare. As we wolfed down our food a few hours earlier, we grab some more food and eat again. This time I follow some other vegetarian’s lead and have a potato salad hoagie.

(Oh, as an aside (primarily for David and Marjorie), I have gone pesco on this trip, so I have been eating seafood, mainly prawns. Although, the other day I had pad thai with seafood, and it had a lot of stuff in it, probably squid and shark. I will probably not be pesco upon my return, though. Just seems too hard to be on an island in the Pacific and not eat seafood, as it is everywhere).

After the show, another band takes the stage, and it is all young, very cute Thai boys (well, two or three were cute), and they played great versions of Wish You Were Here, Losing My Religion, and other alternative tracks. The amusing part was that the vocals all had a bit of broken english in them, but it was utterly charming.

So, we ended up back at Pattea and her boyfriend’s house, way above the cove, with a half pool and amazing view (which it was too dark to see at this point). The band also joined us, and I had mentioned being in a band on the ride there, since we played some of the same stuff. I didn’t know that there would be an electric piano in their apartment, so while the party turned into a bunch of people swimming in their underwear, drinking, and hitting the bong, I ended up being in the house band for the party, doing the vocals and playing the piano, with a guitar player and harmoica player joining me for things like Head it through the Grapevine, Roadhouse Blues, and other oldies.

Eventually, we stopped playing and joined the others in the pool.

In the pool, things got interesting (No, nothing like that). Apparently Pattea’s boyfriend and a friend are starting a business in Koh Samui, and were recently given an intentional scare as a means of telling them to not go into business. They know who was behind it, but again, how could you prove it. So, the question was whether to not start the business, or start it and be at risk. Apparently, some other American businessman ended up dead here before.

But, he basically said that if the choices were to lose everything they have put into the business and go back to America, or move forward and possibly get killed, he would probably move ahead and take the risk.

“I mean, what else would I do, go back to Oregon?!”

Other ex-pats agreed that going back to America wasn’t a viable option. It seemed a world away, and I couldn’t imagine getting to that point. I rather hate a lot about my country while living in it, I guess.

So, I get a ride home, and that was it for the night. All day yesterday, I basically did nothing. I woke up and within 5 minutes, I was swimming the Gulf of Thailand. Then I had breakfast, lunch, and dinner at my crop of bungalows. I mainly read for a bit, did push-ups (per Jamey’s pre-yoga instruction, although he didn’t turn up for the workout to follow), and nothing else. When it rained, I read and thought about life in my bungalow and on my front porch, as the waves crashed in harder than usual 20 feet away.

At dusk, the rain had stopped, and I went back out for another swim, although I’m not sure why rain would be a swimming derrent, as there was no thunder or lightning. I watched the sun set while swimming in the Gulf, and then headed back to the hut, for late dinner.

One thing that is strange is that it gets dark around 7 pm here, so it makes things feel different. When we were at the party the night before, it felt like an after-party at 4 a.m. after a night of clubbing, and it was 10 p.m. I am awake most days at 7 a.m.

Not a bad schedule, just seems strange.

OK, the streets of Chaweng are starting to fill up, all of the partiers are coming out of their sleep. Time to get back to my cove.

I can now report more to the story of my first accidental swim in the Gulf of Thailand.

While I did mention I was smart enough to remember the book and for it to not get wet, I totally forgot about the digital camera in my pocket higher up, which in one plunge became immersed. And as I hadn’t been carrying it with me for the past two days, I actually forgot it was there. So, instead of a gentle baptism from which it was quickly rescued, it instead went diving.

I am now in Chaweng, which is the commercialized area of Ko Samui, and I brought my memor card with me to see if anything could be salvaged, since it is CompactFlash memory, so the image should be on there. Went to two photo businesses here, and neither got it to load at all.

The upside of course is that it happened very early in the journey, and that nearly everything I took pictures of were the main tourist draws of Bangkok, so save for a few pictures with me in them, it was probably only about 30ish photos.

I mean, the camera can hold (or rather could hold, as it is no longer with us) up to 900 photos, so if something stupid was going to happen, better now than when it is bursting with 600 pictures.

I just bought a Kodak mid-range camera for about $120, and am switching to film for the duration.

The upside, of course, is that the camera died in a complete moment of joy, when I was laughing and totally in the moment. Those are rare times, so I guess that is better than dropping it in the water, or some other event.

I think Jamey’s lead was a good one, now that I am in Chaweng, as it is totally overdeveloped and noisy. I wil stay out of harm’s way in my silent cove for the duration. And Koh Phang Nan and Koh Tao are even remoter still.

We didn’t get to do yoga yet, but all in good time.

I don’t tend to get too upset with things, so it was more of a shrug and buying a new camera. The only things on the camera that I really want are the pictures of the people I met along the way, the 17-year-old monk, Michael and PJ from the train, and me surrounded by Thai schoolchildren.

I can retake most of the shots given one day in Bangkok, as I have better bearings tehre now than I did before.

I do wonder if I should send the FlashCard back home and have a friend try and invoke the 30 day warranty, since I just bought a bigger card to store more pictures. Eh, too much trouble…