Bangkok is hot and crowded, yet our senses are in a thrilling state of overdrive – everything we see, smell and taste feels simultaneously strange and fascinating. Even the 15-hour flight from Newark to Hong Kong had its excitement, as a non-English speaking flight attendant accidentally served our 17-year-old a double vodka on the rocks with a twist rather than the club soda with lime she had ordered. After a large mid-flight dehydration-provoked gulp (it was supposed to be sparkling water, remember?) her eyes widened with a startle. Pretty ironic that it happened to the daughter of the Drinking Diaries co-editor.
We started our day in Bangkok with a visit to the Grand Palace (the only Thai destination my 10-year-old son is eager to see, thanks to the “Hangover 2” trailer). Escorted by a lovely guide from Adventures Asia named Eng – who perfected her English as an au pair in Philadelphia – we made it through the packed streets from our hotel, the Sukothai, to the palace in about 30 minutes. Bangkok is renowned for its extreme traffic congestion, and although we were surrounded
by cars, buses, motorcyle taxis (no helmets necessary and about 50 cents for a five minute ride), tuk-tuks (more on these later), the city also boasts an efficient subway and Skytrain system. Along the way, and with a respite from the high humidity in an air-conditioned vehicle, Eng educated us about Thai history, its politics – the Parliament is expected to appoint a 45-year-old female prime minister next week – and its well-liked Monarchy (King Bhumibol Adulyadej, the currant king did, however, ban The King & I, about King Rama IV, after its release in the 1950s for being “too Hollywood”, although Eng got to see it while living in the U.S.)
Eng explained how Thai people tend to be taller than the Chinese (especially the younger generations due to drinking more milk) and have darker skin, like our bus driver, Bae, compared to Eng’s paler skin, typical of her Chinese dissent. Bangkok’s crowded streets are due to the city’s size and population, amounting to 10 million people in a 2,500 square kilometer area. Roughly the size of Texas, Thailand’s population is 65 million and here in its capital, the architecture is largely influenced by China and India.
Catching sight of a smattering of Buddhist monks in their bright orange robes, Eng explained their look and lifestyle – shaved head and eyebrows, can’t be touched by women (even their mother), no food after lunchtime, no entertainment, sleeping on hard floor, and a focus on discipline. Nearly all men choose to be ordained at one point in their life (our driver, Bae, had done so for one month at the age of 24), and afterward can marry and live a more conventional life. Most monks are young because if this path is chosen before one is married, it is said that good karma will go to one’s parents; if one chooses to be ordained after marriage, the karma goes to the wife. (Simon, were you listening?)
The Thai language, we learned, is made up of 44 characters and 28 vowels, but the fascinating part is that tone makes all the difference. Each word as a minimum of three tones, so the same word, sua, for example, means mat, t-shirt and tiger, depending on how it’s pronounced. We struggled to memorize a few important words (sowatica=hello/goodbye; kopkunca=thank you), though our eldest daughter focused on learning “how much”? and “too much”?
The Grand Palace, sitting on 65 acres in the middle of the city, dates back to 1782 and was the King’s residence until 1910. In Thailand, the King is considered God’s creation and put on earth to help mankind. The current king is 85, and similar in age to Queen Elizabeth with whom he is apparently a good friend.
We walked around the palace and its chapels made of gold-leaf mosaics, painted enamel and brilliant glass tiles. A big draw is the Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. We also visited the Wat Pho – home of the first university, Thai massage or acupressure, and the gigantic Reclining Buddha, measuring 50 feet high by 150 feet long. Since the number 108 is a sacred number in Buddhism, each of the kids walked along a row of 108 pots, dropping a Thai coin in each as a donation.
To get a bit closer to the native traffic, we took a ride in a tuk-tuk – motorized rickshaws that run on propane – from the palace to our next activity, a ride on a long-tailed boat on the Chao Phraya River. This was a chance to experience life on the Thai canals and to see the disparity between the poorer homes and the wealthier ones, which continue to exist side by side. After the crowds at the Grand Palace, the breeze was especially nice.
By this time we were starving, and sat down for lunch at a local riverside restaurant called Khun Kung Kitchen. We asked Eng to order for us and we gorged on a variety of Thai dishes, such as phad thai, eggplant with hot chiles, shrimp pancakes, chunks of seabass which you put into a large bitter leaf (chapoo) and add bits of ginger, lime, lemongrass, coconut, chile before rolling it up and eating it. Deelish.
After lunch, we pushed ourselves a little further through the jetlag for a visit to the flower and vegetable market. The array and craftsmanship of the flowers – used as offerings to the Buddha – were beautiful. And the veggies and fruit… I went nuts over the loads of lemongrass, and we stopped frequently to sample nearly every local fruit – the longan, pomelo, rambutan, mangosteen and the durian, or “king of fruits”, which has such a bad odor (“like a baby diaper”, is how Eng described it) that it is forbidden to bring it on a plane or into a hotel.
An afternoon power nap followed the markets. We woke up just early enough to walk a block, take an elevator up to the 59th floor to Vertigo, an open, outdoor rooftop bar. We enjoyed another delicious Thai meal, and then passed out again, ready for an early wake up for our travels tomorrow up north to Thailand’s Golden Triangle. Sowatica (goodbye) for now.
