About to leave Chaweng after a lot of shopping, mainly just a few T-shirts for me and such, and shipped a small package to San Francisco to lighten the load with today’s purchases, the photos, a broken digital camera, the poncho I will never use here, etc., etc.

But, this afternoon, I just couldn’t take it anymore. It had to be done…

No, I didn’t go back to see Dae.

I got a haircut.

I know the plan was to let it grow out while I was here, etc., etc., but I think I am ready to concede that although at some point my hair will grow tired of growing curly, up, and out, and eventually fall down and straighten a bit, I do not possess the tolerance to let that occur.

Before I left, my friend Kirk was growing a moustache, which was just coming in as a left, and I told him I would be letting my hair run wild while I was gone. We joked that I would have short hair and he would be clean shaven by the time we saw each other again.

So, Kirk, the ball is in your court. If you have a moustache, you win.

Getting a haircut with someone who speaks no English wasn’t all that bad, not to mention cheap ($7, including tip). Just stuck with visuals for length and she cut and cut, and it looks pretty good.

Ahhh…. much better.

OK, enough rampant capitalism, time to head back to the beach.

The Santuary wrote me an e-mail that although they can’t take bookings, they will be able to accomodate me with a room, so that’s good.

Last day on Koh Samui (unless you count waking up here and grabbing a boat out in the morning tomorrow).

Just sent an e-mail to The Sanctuary, a new-agey spa on the island, where I hope to stay for a while (week?).

Then off to Koh Tao to stay at Liam Thien Bungalows (I believe the name is), where Jamey spent a week before Koh Samui.

Then back to Bangkok for a day or two of retaking a few photos (digital camera died there, etc.) and then back home.

So, just shopping today, buying souveniers and then shipping it off to SF so I don’t have to lug stuff around with me.

Oops, forgot to mention in my last post that, actually, right before I wrote that, I called Jamey to see how he was doing.

In his typical indeflatable fashion, he said where he is staying is amazing, but that it will be a lot different than if he had stayed in Koh Samui. Here, he would probably have ended up teaching English to a lot of people that work at resorts who will need to interact with tourists. There, he is the ONLY westerner around. He has not seen another person around that isn’t Thai.

He has to cross the river by ferry every day to get to work, and he will also be paying 1000 baht a month in rent ($25), so he will have a lot of money to save.

He will also end up having to learn Thai while he is there, since so many people there will not know english (unlike here, where the majority speak broken english, or at least enough where you can understand what they are saying and complete a transaction). Thankfully, I gave him by Thai phrasebook to take with him, so he has that to learn from as well as its Thai-English/English-Thai cross-reference dictionary.

WHen I spoke with him, he was headed on a truck through the jungle after finishing work for the day, and he seems to be taking this strange twist of fate in stride. It will certainly give him a better sense of Thailand than staying in tourist central, for sure.

He said many people keep offering him stuff for free, or to stay with them for free, just because he is western. He is a curiosity.

Anyway, he is about three hours north of Bangkok, so that seems a little out of the way to drop by, not to mention that he is in the middle of nowhere. But, we will see how my itinerary shapes up when I am close to booking my way back to Bangkok.

Well, I think it is time to leave Koh Samui, check out other parts of the country. Nothing extreme, of course. I think the itinerary for the rest of the trip is to go to Kho Phagnan and Kho Tao, then Bangkok and San Francisco.

I was initially planning to go to Kho Tao for a few days, then drop back down to Kho Phagnan (which I see in silhouette every day to my northeast) and then back to Samui. But, while I was sitting here typing (in a travel office), the Internet went out, and while I was waiting I noticed that there is a ferry from Kho Tao to Champon, which is significantly further north than coming back down the islands, and then south on the ferry, and southwest on the bus to the train. So, instead, I will work my way up. A few days on Kho Phagnan, then Kho Tao, then up to Bangkok.

As my time on Samui is ending, I have been running around a bit more. As you can see from the photos I posted last night (odd that I have yet to write about what it already online in photo form), I went to Big Buddha yesterday, which is a pretty nice place, huge Buddha standing tall above a temple right next to the water. The day was hot, but because I was going to a temple, I wore my long pants. I guess I was the only person who got the memo on that, as everyone was there in shorts. Signs are everywhere for people to wear appropriate clothing in a holy place, even with long pants for rent, and all the westerners just walk right by, and storm up toward Buddha. On one hand, it was nice to be respectful of their religion, but on the other I was HOT all day as a result.

After Buddha, I headed to Chaweng via motorbike, where you basically are on the back of a motorcycle helmetless, because no pickup trucks are coming along to give you a ride. Done it a few times here, but not making a habit of it. In Chaweng, I signed up for a second cooking class last night (yellow curry), and it was good again, but I am not going to go crazy and take the third class just for a flimsy apron and a certificate printed on a computer. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the classes, but it seems that after you take it once, the pacing is all off. All of the history of the cuisine, and the different spices, and tasting everything… you’ve done it already. And it takes a good 40 minutes of that before you do anything, so I think I’m good to go with two classes.

After two classes, you also learn something. Thai cooking has a few basics, and then it is just adding different things. Now, if we had made spring rolls or something, perhaps it would have been different, but it was a soup, curry, and such again. Again, great food, good instruction, just not worth another $35ish or so for an apron and a certificate I have no use for, especially since the other class I liked seemed to have dishes much like the ones I’ve made already.

I had two hours to kill between cooking and going to Muay Thai (thai boxing) last night, and with the curry still hot in my mouth, I needed a drink, so I went to the gay bar. On my way there, the girls outside the one massage parlor held out a sheet of paper (usually it is more “massage” with a wink) which said “massage and sex with clean lady 800 baht.”

Barely at the gay bar a second and Dae came over and was happy to see my return. Unfortunately, I was not there for a massage, just a drink. Dae had his arms around me at the bar, telling me how good a massage would be. And then said he had something to tell me. No one was around, or cared, but Dae went to whisper it in my ear. Now, I know thai massage has a religious component and all, but when Dae went to speak in my ear, it was all in tongues. He was very persistent. Another cute Asian guy came over, and said if I wanted they could both give me a massage. It certainly made for a moment where you wish you had different convictions.

Anyway, Dae and I just cuddled at the bar while I drank down my Coke (no diet at the gay bar, apparently). And then, when I left, he walked me out to the main street holding my hand, which resulted in cackles and comments in Thai from the ladies at the business next door. No clue what they were saying, but Dae said to come back after the boxing, and then (again), he would go home with me, give me a massage, then happyhappyhappy, sleep there, and happy in the morning. He didn’t want to let me go, but finally we kissed on the sidewalk and I said goodbye to him.

Spent a while in the Internet station after that posting the photos, as I had to use Photoshop to scale them down (as 28MB per picture was choking things up a bit), and then captioned them.

At Thai Boxing, there were three options, 500 Baht for stadium seating, 700 for ringside, and 1000 ($25) for VIP. I opt for ringside, but when I get there, I am still hot and tired from doing so much in one day, and it is a small metal stool. I sit there for a while, waiting for the thing to start. Across the ring, I see that VIP is big leather chairs (with backs!) and tables. I go back to the front with my ripped stub and 300 baht, and say, I want VIP.

Apparently in Bangkok, if you go to Thai Boxing, you see much better fighters than elsewhere in the country. I think most of my night was watching 12 year olds and teenagers fight. The lowest weight on the fighters was 96 pounds, and the top weight, for the 20somethings was 126 pounds. But, as far as seeing the art of the martial art, I think I was better off with this arrangement. You could see the different skills learned at each level of training, how the hypnotic, snake-charming sounding music was actually pacing a lot of the fighting.

It was also clear that the two matches with the heaviest guys were the big matches and the crowd reacted with vigor. Cheers went up with every kick that connected, every good move. Only two matches ended before their five rounds, both with the opponent dazed and unable to continue. It is certainly a violent sport.

That’s about it from me. Probably get another update from Kho Phangnan, but Kho Tao (which doesn’t even have a paved road), less likely.

On my way to see some Thai Boxing, but here are some photos I just got back from the developer.

Here they are, or just click the thailaind link under the photo section on the right-hand column.

Just so you know, they are in some odd, random order, and I don’t have time to fix that now.

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.