Part 3 – ooooohhhh weeeee. Rainstorms and glow paint and shakes, oh my!

After a few days of fun in the non-sun, it was time to join the other ladies in Phang-Nga for the culminating event of the week – the non-Full Moon party. We had to take another ferry to the island, which sucked in a storm. We had all gotten comfortable in a pile of luggage and people on deck when we were covered with huge black clouds and pelted with tons of rain.

Most of us tried to stick it out for a while, but it didn’t take long for all of us to get forced below deck. This created a gross, crowded scene of wet people, some still drunk from the night before. Ugh.

We landed on the island in the heat of the storm, and only escaped by piling 7 girls, with luggage, into the pickup truck cab from our guesthouse. Don’t worry – it was only a little cramped. Marianne’s accent took up a ton of room – she all of a sudden became super-Brit when she made friends with a few people from her home country. But she DID save my ass in the rain – so maybe I should let it slide ;)

After eating and settling in, we realized that it was 5pm on NYE, and we were a little bored. The party didn’t really start until 11 or so …

Remember those disgusting mixes of cheap vodka, fruit juice and soda that you used to drink in college? Well, we brought those back with style, and I have to say that they did the job. There’s just something about a mixed drink in a bucket that gets me going, you know? It was time to party.

After getting sufficiently drunk we headed to the beach to get painted. Yes, painted. I wore a bikini, a sarong and a ton of glowing body paint on NYE. It was a beach party, man. Trust me, I wasn’t the only one.

The entire length of the beach was covered with gorgeous international backpackers in very little clothing, under the influence of all kinds of drugs and alcohol. Each bar’s dance floor spilled out onto the beach, and blared variations of techno and pop music that seemed to blend and mix itself as you walked from party to party. Everyone was dancing, smiling, having a great time. We spent several hours crawling from one scene to the next, dancing on stages, downing buckets, making new friends and otherwise having a phenomenal time. The music pulsed so much you couldn’t help but be energized – sometimes it almost felt like I was tripping because the music seemed to be making my heart beat faster.

I love guys from other countries because they don’t play games. “You’re hot. I want to have sex with you.” “Wow, thanks, you’re hot too. But I’m dancing now – maybe later?”

And he really was hot – but I really did want to dance.

The countdown came and went way too fast – apparently there were fireworks, but I was too busy standing in the water talking to my mommy to notice. Good thing Kim got a video to remind us of those, because we all seemed to loose track around midnight or so.

You know how you drunk dial people sometimes and get all lovey and say a bunch of sweet things you normally wouldn’t say? I guess I did this to my mom … which is why she forgives me for screaming drunkenly in her ear for a solid 10 minutes.

So we continued to dance – I made a new Australian friend … and around 2am we decided that we needed a water break. A little pick-me-up. Which we found at Magic Mountain, or Mushroom Mountain, or something like that, in the form of a “special shake.”

I mean, you know how you hear all of those warnings about strict drug laws in Thailand? Well, this place was on a huge cliff, overlooking a huge crowded beach, and had a number of large billboards advertising all of the drugs you could purchase there. As soon as you pass the door, a huge Thai woman attacks you and asks you what you want, listing off a number of options that my virgin ears had never ever heard of. Unreal guys, unreal.

I won’t spill the beans on who had what, who stayed clean, etc, but I will say that we all continued the night well into the morning, finally crawling back into our bungalows around 6:30am. We got back mostly unharmed, except for Marianne who managed to step on the meanest piece of glass ever and slice open her foot. The girl didn’t even mention it all night – only when she started leaving paths of blood in the sand did we know something was wrong. And then she just kept on walking and dancing, still bleeding, until we were all ready to go home.

I guess those Brits just really like to party. I guess it’s just karma and she had to pay – her night ended better than anyone else’s. ;)

Of course, we had been walking around barefoot, in the streets and on the disgusting beach, covered in paint and sweat and beer and sand and everything else for hours. We needed to shower.

We get in the bungalows … and there’s NOOOO water. So we try to bathe in the ocean, only to realize that we are on a huge sandbar and have to walk a mile to find water that’s deeper than a couple of inches. I sat on the sand bar and splashed myself like a small child, looking like an idiot. Then I was just covered in salt. At least I tried.

I woke up at noon when my mom called to wish me a happy NY, EST. She reminded me of all the nice things I said to her, which I vehemently deny to this day.

We pretty much wasted New Year’s Day, sort of wandering and shopping and eating piles of fried noodles. I took a terrible ferry/bus/bus/bus ride home on the 2nd. The boat almost tipped in a swell, the bus dropped me in the middle of Bangkok at 3am, and I had to camp out in the bus station. I finally made it home Saturday night, after leaving the islands on Friday morning. But the party was worth it – cheers to the craziest NYE of my life.

Choke dee in 2009. My New Year’s resolution – try not to eat as much as Nate anymore.

Skype me? Skype you!

Umm, yeah, so apparently it's really expensive for you guys to call me. And most cell phones don't support international calls. Lame.

I certainly can't afford calling you either. I'm on a Thai budget now.

So let's try Skype, huh? It's a 12 hour time difference from EST to me. So just change the AM to PM, or PM to AM, and you know what time it is here. Same, same, but different.

So instead of calling me, you should all download Skype - www.skype.com - and add me as a friend - ltrav1023. Same as my AIM. Original, I know.

Then we can CYBER. Or, you know, chat with voices. It'll be niiiiice.

Talk to you soon, kids!

Part 2 – Koh Samui, where I hope to never drive a motorbike ever again

I was going to hold this a bit longer, but Schrama really really wanted it. And, I mean, if she finds this blog exciting, that's saying something. Can't make her wait ;)

For a few days before New Year’s Eve, my friend Jen and I camped out on Koh Samui before heading over to Koh Phang-Nga for the main event.

“Koh” means island in Thai. In case you weren’t following.

Koh Samui is much larger than the other islands, with a lot more to see and do. This was fortunate for us, since the sun refused to show its face for our ENTIRE stay. Literally, the moment I got out of the cab and on to the beach, the sun went behind some clouds. And never came back. So other than some burned shoulders, I am still pasty after a week at the beach. Lame.

When I say “camped out,” I mean that in a near literal since. We embraced the bungalow life again at a nice place called New Hut, and stayed riiight on the water, in a little tepee on stilts. It was adorable, and it was beautiful to fall asleep and wake up to the sound of the waves. Of course, we were always covered in sand, but who really cares when it’s pretty and white sand? At 350 baht a night, we weren’t complaining.

For those of you in the States, that’s around 15 bucks a night. Total. $7.50 each.

Well, I complained when our neighbors stayed up super late and brought out iPod speakers to blast really shitty pop music. But I didn’t complain about the sand.

We attempted some beach time on the first day, which was fine but cloudy. We gave up with the rain started really coming down.

We found a great little night market with amazing cheap food, which would have been much cooler if it wasn’t surrounded by little gazebo pole-dancing bars. Seriously. It looks like a cute little street with a market …. And then you realize that the gazebos are full of nearly naked Thai women dancing on poles. Sad, sad.

On one of the nights we met a large group of hot foreigners who were training at a Thai boxing gym on the island. What is it about me and the foreign boxers? Seriously?

Of course we met them on the ONE night that they were staying in, for the sake of their livers. Ugh. We flirted as best we could, but no one was up to party. So we were left to wander in search of some cool people.

We didn’t manage to find any – but we DID make some pseudo-friends who were too drunk to notice when we stole their beers. They had promised to buy us one, and we were sick of waiting. I feel like that’s overzealous acceptance, and not really theft. And they were tools.

The next day we rented some motorbikes to explore the island and see what it was all about. It was a fun drive to the different neighborhoods, seeing the fishing town, and the more deserted beaches, etc. We made a quick turn at a sign for a waterfall, which ended up being quite a hike. Luckily we had our bathing suits on, so we went for a quick swim. Beautiful, beautiful. Great way to pass the cloudy day.

The bikes were a blast, for the most part. I loooove driving. But at the end of the day we headed to the crowded beach to get a look before the sun went down. And that small stretch between Hat Lamai and Chaweng is where I almost died. 3 times.

The first time wasn’t my fault at all – a truck decided to pass another truck, in the wrong lane, around a curve, on a huge hill. I happened to be the first in a line of motorbikes coming around the curve in the opposite direction, and we were using most of the lane to keep from turning too hard and skidding out. Luckily I don’t usually freeze in terror, so I was able to swerve in time to avoid being killed in a head on collision.

Next, my purse got stuck in my basket, or something, and I tried to make a similar turn on a similar hill. But I was pushing left … and my bike was still going straight. This left ME in the wrong lane this time. I pushed a little harder and got out of the lane – luckily, a nice British man noticed the terrified look in my face and made some room for me to get back in control.

The last time was like the first, only a closer call. At this point, I was ready to pull over and hitchhike home.

Damn Thai drivers. Like honking your horn will guarantee that I can get around you? Will the sound provide enough cushion in case we do hit one another? No, dude, that’s just not how it works.

All of this trouble, and the main beach just looks like a slightly prettier version of Pattaya. Which, if you remember, was like Miami or Cancun. Full of drunken fools paying too much for crappy Western food and looking to score. Like a foreign version of American Pie 2, with a bunch of Stiflers running around. Not as cute, just as bastard-y.

THIS is what I almost died for?

But the sand was really pretty, and I went for a glorious swim. So that’s something.

We dropped off the bikes 30 minutes late, unscathed. Although I’m pretty sure that day cost me at least 3 years off of my life expectancy. But once I’m that old, I’m sure I won’t notice anyway. Right?

I really don't know how many parts this will be - probably 3. So yeah, that means there's another one coming.

I need to learn how to summarize better.

NYE Shit-Show Extravaganza – Part 1

If you’ve even been glancing at this blog recently, you know that I’ve been creating quite a buildup for my NYE plans – a week on the islands, culminating in the huge Full Moon-wannabe NYE party on Koh Phang-Nga. I like to create dramatic build-ups.

Like now.

Are you ready?

The Saturday after Christmas, Nate and I set off for the south on the longest bus ride journey ever. It started with a freezing motorbike ride at 7am, and finally ended some 30ish hours later on Sunday afternoon.

We managed to easily snag a bus ride down to Bangkok at 8:30am. We should have walked – we would have gotten there faster. It took 3 hours longer than it should have to get there, which meant that almost all of the bus lines were closing down for the night. And, of course, there were NO busses to Koh Samui, or Surat Thani, or anything remotely near our destination until Monday at the earliest. Excellent.

We split up and ran around franticly knocking on all of the windows, trying to find SOMETHING that wouldn’t leave us stranded in Bangkok for 2 days. I ran over at least 3 people with my rolling duffle bag.

Finally, someone said “Sure, we have a bus tonight. It leaves at 9:30. First class, 500 baht each.”

A few things should have made me think that this didn’t sound right. The price was too low, the timing sounded too perfect, and we didn’t actually get tickets. Instead we got a slip of paper, which was handed off to an old sly-looking man, who led us all the way out to the very last bus stop in the station, in the very very far corner.

I was too distracted by joy to notice all of the caution signs. And Nate was hungry, so his brain wasn’t working. The 10-hour bus ride made him a crabby pants.

We sat around and waited for the magical bus. Other Thai and farang travelers were in the same boat as us, so that was a good sign.

I made friends with the vendors and their kids to pass the time. This effort was greatly supported by the Pez that my mom sent me in the care package glory of 2008. I took sooooo many Pez virginities that night, it was fantastic.

You never know how popular you can be until you stand at a Thai bus stop with a little Santa figure that spits out sugar tablets. Laced with red dye #392. Or something like that.

Side note – anyone else ever notice how red Pez taste JUST like Swedish Fish? I mean it.

So our bus finally pulls up – it’s def VIP class, looks clean, and is relatively on time. Nice.

We check and double check that it’s going to Surat Thani – other travelers do the same. We are shown our assigned seats and start to get comfortable.

After about 15 minutes they tell us that everyone who’s NOT going to Krabi needs to get off the bus. Which means us.

Hmmmmk.

We wait a few more minutes outside until the grossest, oldest bus ever pulls up. THIS is what we paid for.

Umm, excuse me?

Ripped, bottom-class seats, light bulbs hanging from the roof, no space, dirty, dingy, etc. 12 hours on this thing? OMG.

My eyes start to water, but I hold it together.

At this point we’ve hit 10:30pm, and I’m ready to hit the road. But wait, we have to change busses one more time, to an equally old, maybe less dirty bus. Not. Pleasant.

They wait until they’ve filled the thing – 11:15ish, to take off. We make friends with our neighbor, a Thai girl who apparently used to be fat but is now a beautiful model, thanks to her fake boobs and hair. She’s on her way to meet up with her American boyfriend and his parents.

A German hottie sits next to her, and we all start chatting. Some time after I fall asleep, she apparently forgets her boyfriend and starts making out with the German. Classy Classy.

When we finally get off the bus, the Thai-model-rocket-scientist offers to help us find our way to the island with her. Since she has unlimited funds stuck in her hair, she doesn’t even ask how much everything is. We end up paying a scam-like rate for the bus and ferry, which only ices the cake that is this terrible ride down.

The last step was to herd us onto a huge ferry thing that FINALLY lands us on the island. Nate and fat-girl-turned-Thai-model-slut both grab motorbikes and head out. I end up on a sawatawng that tries to rip me off, so I jump off the back and find a new one. An hour and a half later I have a tank top sunburn, but I’m on the beach. And the sun has gone behind clouds, never to return for the entire length of my trip.

I was never so happy to see a shack and an outdoor shower in my entire life

Once upon a time, a young boy named Jesus ...

Merry belated Christmas, everyone. Sorry for the delays – a beach vacay pulled me away from my computer. I know, I know, lame excuse.

Somehow, during the one week a year that I normally don’t do much of anything, I actually had a lot of work here in Thailand. This was mainly due to the fact that we were charged with writing, casting, rehearsing, costuming and performing the Christmas nativity play – in English – with young kids who’ve never performed before – starting a week before Christmas.

Oh, and they’ve never done a Nativity play at this school before. Ever. So we had to start with the whole story, and move on from there. “Once upon a time, in a town called Nazareth …” Etc.

I’m sad to say that I had to look up the details of the story. Apparently I was never ever listening in church. I mean, it’s the birth of Jesus – pretty basic, right?

In all honesty, it shouldn’t have seemed that difficult. But the kids don’t care, they don’t speak English, and none of the teachers were really available to help. Plus, Thais are generally less worried about everything, so nothing was put together until the last minute.
And the average temperature managed to rise at least 10 degrees that week, which was awesome for Nate in his Santa costume…. And it just made me mildly miserable.

I was really just crabby because I was homesick. Let’s get real, Lis.

When it was all said and done, the “play” lasted about 10 minutes, and I narrated almost the entire thing. A few kids had a line or 2, but again, the audience doesn’t speak English. I was tempted to throw in a few random lines during the performance, but the director of the school studied in North Carolina for 2 years. So I’m sure she would have noticed, and not been amused.

I did start screaming like a new born baby when our Mary pulled the doll out from under her dress. That was a crowd pleaser.

The kids had a blast, mostly with the costumes and the eyeliner beards. They did a great job, and it was adorable. I didn’t get any good pics of the actual performance, but these are from the dress rehearsal on Christmas Eve.

The rest of the pagent was filled with Jingle Bell dances, the play Snow White, and other various little performances. I still hold firm with my statement – most Thais have no rhythm. But they’re adorable, so who really cares?

I managed to sneak out of wearing a “Santa Baby” costume, and I only had to sing one song at the end of the pagent. Which was widdled down from 5. I told my coordinator he could pick … and he chose “Colors of the Wind,” Vanessa Williams style. Which sucked, because I never got to rehearse, and was to a tune on the karaoke machine that I had never heard.

Thai karaoke machines always change the melody around. Bitches.

No one was watching anyway, and Nate came up and acted it out with me, in Santa gear, to help distract the crowd. It was nice.

After the pagent, some of the teachers and the director were supposed to come over for a “small Christmas gathering” at our house to help us feel less homesick. Leave it to Pan.

She pulled up in front of the house with a small army of students to help cook, clean and manage the “small gathering.” She brought her own grill, soup pot thing, silverware, dishes, food, all the dips you can imagine, whole prawns, meatballs … and a table and chairs and an ice bucket with cups and water and students to move and serve things.

According to her, I was a guest, even though it was in my house. So I really just sat around and did nothing. Fine by me Pan, fine by me.

Then we ate for about 4 hours until the director showed up with presents and homemade stockings. And I got the greatest purse ever. And then we had a photoshoot and ate some more.

Then a random cat snuck in the house. I kicked it out, but Pan decided to feed it. So now it won’t ever.go.away.

But it’s cute. I named it Sapparot, which means “pineapple.” She doesn’t really look like I pineapple – I just like saying that word. We’re friends now.

I did make a single chocolate martini with the awesome kit my Mom sent me. And I made it pretty weak. And still they all could only handle one sip. A small one. But they loved it, and passed it around, and held it in front of their faces and smiled and asked again what it was called. And then they did the same with the bottle of Baileys and the chocolate rimmer shit.

If I’ve done one good thing in my life, it’s to spread the love of the chocolate martini to the rest of the world. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Santa shout-outs

You guys really do love me, don't you? I got sooo much Christmas love this year - almost more than I get when I'm actually in the country.

Special thanks go out to the girlies - Danielle, Christine and Palms. They sent me a box of goodies with Christmas themes, and Danielle even donated a used Amazon.com box. So thank you for that, ladies. I'm keeping the ornaments up, even though the holidays passed.

LuxiePoo - just got the card today, and already had the eggnog flavored chocolate. Which may now be my favorite holiday flavor. You know what I like ;)

Aunt Sissy - thanks to you too! The card was really sweet.

Thanks again everyone. Post addresses if you want a postcard in return!

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year!!!

I know, I know. This almost isn't a blog anymore. I've taken way.too.long. to post.

Buuuut, I have some really great excuses. I mean, I had a nutso Christmas week of Nativity play planning and packing for a trip and Christmas parties and karaoke ... etc. You can forgive me, right?

And then I went away for a week to the islands, which both had lame bad weather. But we still managed to have the greatest NYE ever at the full moon-ish party.

Both of these events will be clearly underlined in coming posts.

So please forgive me and choque dee in 2009!