Koh Samui - Part Two
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.
