Big Adventure - Part 5

I call this my big adventure because everything here is an adventure.

Everything.

The electricity doesn’t go out every day, but often enough to make you think it might in that five minute transition between a beautiful hot sunny day and a dark angry sky with gale force winds.
Driving – especially without being hit by or hitting a truck or a car or a motorcycle or a bicycle or a person or a dog.
The language, of course. A translation of a line from the section of the Commercial Code on Private Companies: “A company must maintain an office in the premises which it psychically owns or rents.” Is that a translation error, or do they think on a whole different level here?
Food - I have learned that whatever it is, if you don’t like it just finish it quick and put something else in your mouth. And try to remember what THAT looked like !!
The critters. There are TINY little ants everywhere. They mind their own business and don’t bother me, but they crawl in and out of my computer keyboard. I wonder what they’re doing in there. Are they good for it? Maybe that’s how letters get to the disk drive and to the screen? ( There was a dead gecko on the floor of my office this morning – covered by a quivering mass of tiny ants. That was a bit creepy.)
Buying gasoline and getting a receipt – baysip is supposed to mean receipt, but I think the way I pronounce it the first four or five times I ask it must mean something different.
I have a space age shower stall in my apartment with the all the body jets (the one in the roof is exactly one inch from my head when I stand up straight) – and no hot water. The only thing better than a cold shower in the morning is 12 jets hitting every part of your body at once with cold water. So far it’s been okay because it is warm here all of the time, but I think it will get tired. Luckily the shower in my private office has hot water – but no body jets.

Some stuff is really clear. The “Gasoline No Smoke” sign is clear. And what the girls at the front of the Beaver Bar mean when they say “Short Time”.

But what is a “Beauty Saloon”? The Beaver Bar perhaps? And why, if coconut palms are everywhere, is there no coconut in any of the food?



Supper time drinking story.

I feel like I’m at my grandmothers house and she just won’t take “No thank you” for an answer.

Pre-supper last night Ju and Dong are signing and stamping a huge stack of documents (I later found out it was 90 conveyance documents – chanote (deeds) for a 90 lot development) and enjoying some lovely Spy PREMIUM Red Wine Coolers. I of course was immediately offered one.

Now any one who has ever had the chance to taste a Spy PREMIUM Red Wine Cooler knows that it is very important to be very emphatic in your response - NOOO ! I did that, and as the word left my lips an ice cold Singha was pressed into my hand by the young girl from next door whom I hadn’t even noticed arrive, with a “Sawasdee Ka Khun David – Singha?” It is her cell phone that has a speaker and is often used as a music player. After dinner there was much laughter when I knew one of their favourite songs “My Humps!” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Since they had their Spy PREMIUM Red Wine Coolers for supper, I went up to my room and got the half bottle of not too bad white wine I bought last week – I figured a drink before supper and a drink with supper. Poured a big glass and offered Ju and Dong to taste. Ju had a church communion sip, Dong downed the rest and said it was good. As I poured my now first and last drink, Dong said no thank you; I explained that this one is for me.

Well anyway, I had a drink with supper, and it was good. After supper, they asked if I had more, I said no, watched the surf and the setting sun for five minutes, turned back and there they were with a new bottle of the same wine, struggling to open it (Spy PREMIUM Red Wine Coolers have screw tops). So I helped – they were impressed at how easily I managed the cork screw. Dong seemed to REALLY like dry white – while he finished signing and stamping all of those documents. I thing Dong likes most kinds of alcohol.

One of you – and you know who you are – figures I’m going to become a fat alcoholic. Gee, I hope I don’t get fat. On the same topic, it’s almost dinner time and I want to go down to lay in the hammock and watch the waves for a little while – while “my staff” cooks and serves. But the problem is, they will want me to drink beer the whole time, so I think I’ll just stay here till I’m summoned to eat (they could just call me on the phone, but they seem to like walking up to tell me in person)

Aug. 7, 2006.

I promised myself, and I know I promised several recipients of this, that I would lay off of the food stories. But the story I have from ‘Mr. Poo’s Hotpan & Music’ justifies breaking those promises.

Cooky leaves for Bangkok early in the morning, and she no cooky no more, so Ju and Dong were headed to the market for prepared food – “What you want? “I don’t care” and they soon arrive back with two things: 1) A huge hamburger for me; & 2) An invitation to join them to go out for barbeque-leaving now. Though totally confused why they got the burger first, I accept the invitation and with Dong driving (a mistake which, having survived it once, I will not make again) we head off to find Mr. Poo. Cooky has apparently said he has very good barbeque (barbeque in Thai is “barbeque”).

EVENTUALLY we find it. The sign says King of Barbeque – only after you are inside (well, under the tent) do you see that your host’s name is indeed Mr. Poo.

This is basically an all you can eat buffet of meat. (the Thai word for buffet is “buffet” – I’m learning lots of Thai tonight) A long table filled with large trays of cut up, stir fry sized pieces of every kind of meat and fish you can imagine, and some I’m guessing you can’t imagine. Six different kinds of Tofu. Plus a wide assortment of sausage and meatballs. Lots of fresh vegetables too, of course. (plastic baskets beside the plates and bowls, for carrying the veggies back to your table) and four different kinds of noodles, plus rice, spring rolls, etc. etc.

Back at the table is the center piece – the “Moo Ga Ta”. A cookie sheet with water in it, in which is placed a clay pie plate shaped dish. In that is a cast iron wok shaped bowl filled with hot coals (hence the need for the water in the cookie sheet- so the table won’t catch fire). In/on the cast iron bowl is a metal “cover” shaped sort of like a ring cake pan with a rounded raised center. The outer ring holds water which is repeatedly replenished as the vegetables and noodles etc. being cooked in it soak it up. Pretty soon the water becomes a great soup broth.

The raised center part is where you all barbeque your meat, etc.. At the very center, the highest part, sits a large piece of raw pork fat which slowly cooks but never fully. This provides a steady supply of fat so that your meat doesn’t stick.

Of course all the while the quart bottles of Singha are providing a constant supply for our glasses, and Dong was making sure that my beer glass was always filled – filled – with ice. Choice to make – drink watered down cold beer or drink warm beer quickly.

Of course the full name of the place was Mr. Poo’s Hotpan & Music, so yes, there was music. All seventies sappy music – Eagles, Bread, “Islands in the Stream”, etc.
What an experience it was. Mr. Poo sure can put on a spread. And I even taught Ju to say vegetables instead of wedjetable – well, I never got the “s” out of her, but the “v” was huge, a sound she had to learn how to make. Dong wouldn’t even try.

I’m saving my hamburger for tomorrow.

The next day.

Ju has taken it upon herself to cook my breakfast. Now that’s something no secretary before her has ever done. I bit disappointing though – only one egg (still raw on top). Still got two toast (warm bread), bacon but no ham or sausage, and four slices of what looked like round olive and pimento loaf but turned out to be “red wicked hot chili’s and green wicked hot chili’s” loaf. And at least I didn’t have to lift my lazy ass off of my chair.

I announced before supper time that I would be having my hamburger for supper. Turned out though that it wasn’t a hamburger after all – it was the most exquisite chicken burger I’ve ever tasted. I want to ask where they got it, but that’s a whole other problem.

I have never reflected upon how similar who, what, when, where, why and how sound, but that has been pointed out to me. So I know that if I ask where the burger came from they will look at me like I’m stupid and tell me “yesterday”.

Where is playing shortstop.

I asked anyway, and after a little confusion I found out it was from the Ting Tong Bar. Early on I discovered that the only effective way to explain where our office is located is to say it is across the street from the Ting Tong Bar. ( I guess I have some marketing to do) Up till tonight I thought it was just a place to go for drinks, pool and “short time”. How sweet to now discover that they serve awesome food.

Wednesday, August 9, 2006.

What a great day.

Went to Chaweng to attend a Rotary Club Meeting as a guest. The car was going to the land office with Dong and Ju so I rented a motorbike for the day. (about $4.50) Care is required driving motorbikes because on almost every curve there is sand on the road which makes it very easy to drop the bike. The secret is to never use your front brake.

Met some really nice people, including the biggest builder on the island (lots of concern about the restrictive position being taken by the government – general acknowledgement that the lawyers will all do well, or at least the good ones (I’ve still got them fooled so far).

I sat beside a guy who used to produce video games for ActiVision, for the X-box). (he also used to play some hoops) Burned out, moved here, and now he runs Nigels Beach BarBQ and Grill just up the beach from me. I don’t know if it’s good, but Nigel clearly likes it, and won’t be out playing hoops any time soon. (Thursday nights it’s all you can eat ribs night – reservations required. I think Nigel goes).

Anyway, to get back on point, he explained how to find the nearby school with the basketball court, so after lunch off I went, and I FOUND IT !!!!

I barely had time to go to Tesco to buy a ball before my appointment to see a house that is for rent ( it has a pool, which is nice, but too small I think)

To cap off my brutal work day, I hurriedly changed into basketball appropriate attire and went to shoot around a bit before supper – and before darkness.

I clearly and completely under estimated the situation. It quickly went from 3 on 3 at one end to 5 on 5 full court. By the time the lights came on there were 15 guys - actually, 14 guys and one girl with a beautiful jump shot. Quality of play is high, and very quick (I hope if I can get back in shape it won’t seem so quick, but I don’t think anyone there is half my age yet.

SWEET.

They play every night, well past darkness thanks to the fully lit court. I played for about an hour and a half; several “see you tomorrows?” as I left, trying not to let the cramping legs look too obvious. I don’t know if I can do every day, but damn it was fun.

I won’t be a fat alcoholic now. The only question is whether I’ll be fit or dead.

I think I’ll leave the bottle of Advil beside the bed – better chance of getting up tomorrow.

Now when I get my wife and my dog here, it’s gonna be all good.

Tonight is the full moon. That means it’s time for the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan. From all accounts this function ( every 4 weeks or so ) is a world class hedonistic blowout of epic proportions - No hotel room required because the party goes all night. I know that at some point I’m going to have to see it, but the effect on Koh Samui is very noticeable – quiet. Everyone is partying one island over.

Happy Full Moon to you all.