Deep in the forest.

 

Pin pricks of light poked through the swathe of night and the moon rested in comfort, as if smiling with a cup of warm tea, lounging there while taking in the new eve once again guiding it through another cycle of perpetuity. And there I was, following the example set by the pale sliver of pearl above. In my hand was a cooler beverage though, a beverage that you may have guessed I would have in hand if you have read any of the previous post of mine. A glass of whiskey and soda is the drink that rested between my grip as I laid my head back to take in the unobstructed view of this mural of stars, moon and of the hazy clouds dissipating in and out of existence while sharing in a little tango with the flickers of light smiling above. There is just something so entrancing about the night sky when you are able to view it without the touch of ambient light, and when you are able to hear the sounds in which the darkness orchestrates without a single encroachment of civilization.

            It took about two hours to get to the parking spot for the Lime leaf lodge. Once the truck was parked, all of the items that we needed to get to the Eco lodge had to be trekked up a steep, long and high incline. I thank goodness for the fact that this lodge is very near to a town where a local tribe called the Black Lahu live and who have plenty of individuals looking to help out for a small fee. So, we had a little helper assisting us, he strapped a large carrying basket to his forehead and we followed him up the steep incline. It took about thirty minutes to get up the little dirt path that led to the lodge. Once we reached the end of the trail we were welcomed by the sound of a little Koi pond on the left and some amazing little huts that were tucked away amidst the banana trees and various other floras. The group of us, which included an English fellow named Clive, a Chinese girl named Daisy and Chris, our host, headed to the main little bar area and temple like living area. Immediately; we all poured ourselves a beverage in celebration of making it up the hill as well as to savor while taking in the view that this little temple afforded us. That is the great thing about driving for a long period up the steep slant of the road and then footing it up the mountain. The views are that much better the higher the elevation is when the eyes seek out an end point in which to rest upon. This little area of the property, consisted of a sleeping area under a thatched rough made from bamboo, with walls made of a beautiful wood, and with a decor that one might find in a Buddhist temple. The doors of the entry were antique folding doors that opened up the sleeping area to he views of the mountains, forest and sky above. This area also served as a communal gathering and cooking area. Also, there was this great tiki bar on the deck that again had a great view of the mountains surrounding us.

            After a bit of time chatting and sipping we split off into little sub groups. Clive and Daisy were here at the lodge for more of a romantic get away and went off to their own little hut on the hill. These two kids both teach English here in Chiang Mai and each are able to speak Thai so very well. Daisy speaks, English, Thai, and Chinese – Mandarin and Cantonese. And Clive is working on learning the Chinese; with Daisy as his teacher he sure seems to be getting the language down pretty quickly. The rest of the group consisted of me, Chris, Winai and his wife Noi. Winai lives at and operates the lodge with Noi. He has been a guide for a little over thirty years and soon will be taking trekkers out on three day survival expeditions. He is a pretty amazing guy who can get out in the forest and create an amazing meal by building a fire and chopping down one of the many stalks of readily available bamboo. It’s a pretty cool thing how he will segment the stalk into cookware, bowls, and chopsticks. On the short trek that Clive and Daisy took, Winai created a nice fire and a great meal midway through the three hour trek. Chris is one of the owner operators of the lodge and who provided me with the transportation to the lodge. Six months out of the year Chris is a chef on a yacht and his culinary talent is greatly utilized at the lodge. Chris and Noi are amazing cooks, who prepared some amazing meals utilizing only an open fire in the middle of a forest, on top of a beautiful mountain, surrounded by nothing but the sounds and fragrances of the immediate environment.

            Before the night enveloped us, we were given a nice mid-day buffet of wonderful flavors and sustenance. We ate our meals on a bamboo deck that extended out from Winai’s home and that offered us a wonderful view. After our meal we had a little conversation about this and that and then went off to our own expectations of how the rest of the day would unfold. Me, I went and found a nice comfy deck chair to lay back in while I did a fair amount of reading. Reading while periodically looking up from my book to take in the view or to pour myself another whiskey and soda at the very near tiki bar, were about the only activities that I participated in as the day began to slowly wane. The dusk set in and a small fire was lit in order to provide a small amount of warmth from the now cooling night, as well as for the preparation of the night’s meal. Another large meal was laid out and now the deck provided views to the starry heavens as we took in the warmth and flavors of the spread laid before us. Once the meal was finished the loving couple went on to continue in their interlude, while the rest of us went on to the large snooker table that somehow was brought up to this small precipice. Yes, Winai loves himself some pool and so he had this huge snooker table brought up to the lodge. And thanks to some recently installed solar panels there was plenty of light available to guide us through a little game of eight ball on a table that was very challenging for a guy that is used to playing on a standard eight foot table or a small bar table. This table stretched to eternity -it seemed-, the pockets were tiny, as they were designed to consume the tiny snooker balls that the table was initially made for; however the pool balls were the standard size. This combination of small pockets, standard pool balls, and an immense spans of felt sure made for a difficult game of pool. Of course Winai knew this table like the back of his hand and made for a formidable foe in this game of billiards.  He may be physically unassuming but he is sneaky like a fox and in no time he found a way to get the upper hand. I only beat him once that night but I sure had a great time in my efforts to dethrone the king of this table in the depths of the forest of Thailand. Once the games had finished and the last sips were consumed from our once full glasses, we all began to make the steps into slumber. Lying down on a small mat that was placed across a hand made wooden frame raised above the floor; I covered myself with two large dense covers to keep the crisp night air from disturbing my rest. The entry way was left open and provided a beautiful background of night and allowed the sounds of all the nocturnal creatures to serenade me into a sound sleep. 

            Birds calling in the new day and the light of morning both served in a tandem duo to take me from the comfort of my slumber. Chris had prepared some brewed coffee from beans that were taken from the coffee plants located only meters away. This was a nice way to start the day and following the coffee was a nice little breakfast to get us going. It is hard to say where the morning and day went. I just stayed on the deck and continued to read my book while the couple went on a trek with Winai. Chris was busying himself with some prep for dinner. First he started marinating some pork ribs, then he began to boil chick peas for a curry, and then he sliced up some high dollar vanilla for a vanilla rice pudding. It looked like we would be having another great dinner again once the night set in. When the trekkers got back to the homestead another fellow joined us. He had heard of the lodge from someone who had stayed there a good while back and he decided to find his way there from Chiang Mai. The lodge is not an easy place to find and I have to hand it to him for just making his way there all on his own. There is no internet or phone, so he just took a chance and drove his rented moped up the mountain in the hopes of being fortunate enough to meet up with someone at the lodge. His name was Dillon and he was visiting from Australia, where he teaches philosophy at an international baccalaureate school. The time was around three in the afternoon and it was a good time to start pouring the whiskey and chat about various subjects that came to mind while we waited for the dinner buffet to begin. As the sky began to darken and the fire was lit, Winai brought out two guitars and a drum. Dillon, it turns out, was a fine guitarist who was also able to sing. So, I did my best to strum a few chords and keep up, but really I was just lightly strumming and creating only muffled sounds, so as not to intrude on the songs that Dillon was putting out. Sitting back listening to a little guitar, drums and singing with the accompanying sounds of an open crackling fire on this deck was a great way to spend the evening. Once the dinner was put out, the music was put on hold and we sat ourselves down for another grand meal. Mmmmmm, so damn good. There was such a diversity of taste. First we started out with gnawing on some perfectly cooked and marinated ribs, oh they were so good. Then we set down for an Indian curry dish, a Chinese soup, and a couple of Thai dishes, all served with superbly prepared fried rice. Once we had all sufficiently stuffed ourselves beyond contentment, Chris brings out this dish that is steaming and putting off a fresh aroma of freshly cut vanilla. This was the first time that I was served a hot vanilla pudding and damn I sure hope it’s not the last. Now that we had more than satiated our appetites, we sat back and enjoyed several more songs and beverages by the fire. As it began to get closer to the end of the day, several of us headed over to the covered pool table for a couple of games. We played into the night while drinking our whiskey and laughing, all the while enjoying each others company and the great outdoor pool hall. After pool we all turned in.

            The next morning started in the same way as the previous one had. Repetition of such nice beginnings is sure a great way to start any day. After breakfast, I walked over to another area which shares the same property as the lodge. There is this crazy Thai boxing training area that is located just a few steps away. This place is something that you might have seen in a Rocky type Thai boxing movie. It is extremely rustic, with dorms made of wood and thatched roofs, a ring built upon a cracked hard earth ground, large tires for flipping, huge ropes for climbing and pulling, weights, heavily used punching bags and sparing pads. Those would be Thai boxers  training here would be exposed to the mercy of the outdoor elements. I could only imagine how difficult the training would be during the hot stifling humid heat of a Thai summer. I couldn't help but have a great deal of respect for these individuals that were committed to training in such extreme conditions. This outdoor Thai fighting training area recently had a crew from National Geographic come up and do some filming of the instruction and fighting area. It was a pretty unique thing to see. After finishing up on my little walk, we began to pack up and prepare for our departure from the lodge. We made our decent down the steep incline to the truck and all made it down in one piece. Dillon was going to stay another night and so had the entire compound to his self, well, Winai and Noi would still be there to provide wonderful experiences and food.

            Nestled in the comfort of a surrounding forest on the side of a Mountain here in Thailand was exactly the thing that I wanted to experience when I first thought of moving here. Being able to experience Thailand in a way that was much more congruent with the way that locals would have lived a hundred years ago was an amazing moment. Breaking things down to the bear essentials and negating the extraneous elements of life and society seems to provide me with a wonderful sense of clarity. This lucidity creates a higher level of confidence and contentment in my life which I hope to carry with me all of my days.

Pai, Lunar Eclipse, and water falling.

      Keeping up with the writing for this Blog has been happening less and less as of late.  I suppose that this may be attributed to there just not being as many adventures, new occurrences, and the fact that my days are  occupied with so many other things that I enjoy doing. Going to the language school, studying for the language school, golf, reading, painting, writing and guitar are taking up pretty much all of my days and hours. Then again, I am easily entertained and carry few expectations in this little mind of mine. Who knew that doing a bunch of nick knack things could take up an entire day. Focusing on just the things that I want to do, sure is a damn fine feeling and I will miss it when I have to go back to work in the monetary paradigm. The paradigm of the egalitarian nomadic societies from back before the imposed agricultural revolution, sounds more like the archetype that I would prefer to lend my labor to, but hell, the grass is always greener on the other side I suppose. Besides, I do love my flat screen and pseudo cheese block melted with cans of processed chilies and tomatoes from time to time. Now there are still a few adventures left out there and I do take random little step abouts from time to time I guess that is why I have a reason to punch the keys tonight.

           

            Eliminating expectations and retaining a flexible schedule has allowed me to experience a good deal of serendipity in this modest life of mine; the trip to Pai is a good example of this serendipity. Before I go into the story of Pai, I feel the need to say that I may have to curtail a few things stated in this Blog as well as alter a few identities of those mentioned there within this bit of writing. Now that I am meeting new people here and there. I am finding that these new people may be interested in reading these little annotations of mine and may not appreciate their names being mentioned; also, they may not like the things that I have written about our shared experiences. My sense of humor is unique - so I am told - and there are those that may take offense to a few statements of mine. So in the interest of keeping friends and keeping friends out of trouble, I will do my best to save face for all listed parties, myself not included, I’m not too concerned with losing face. Now on to the story of Pai.  Sorry, I have just one other preface prior to moving onto the trip to this little hippie town in Thailand. Chris is the person that invited me to go to Pai and who was kind enough to drive myself and seven others to Pai with him. He is someone that I met randomly at the Hong Thong bar that I mentioned in an earlier post. And on a side note, he owns an Eco-lodge in the mountains of Chiang Mai. The lodge sounds and looks amazing, this according to a few Kiwis that I met as well as the pics I have seen of his place on Facebook and his website. If you want to check out the place, it is called limeleaf eco lodge, www.limeleaf-thailand.com .  So, Chris calls me up, I hadn’t spoken to him in several weeks and just thought that he might have a lot going on. During the phone conversation he let me know that he and a few friends would be heading up to Pai and asked if I wanted to go. Now I knew nothing about Pai or where Pai was, but shit it was Friday and I had no job and nothing to do, so why not go to Pai. One other thing about Chris, the guy has a pretty nice set up when it comes to the work side of things. He is a chef for those that need to have tasty morsels of nourishment on their large world traveling yachts. Six months out of the year is he required to be out on the seas or based in Spain, Greece or some other romantic port of call. Then he lives in Thailand for the other six months working on the Eco-lodge and enjoying his time off.  There will be more to tell about the lodge once I go for a visit.

            On Saturday afternoon, I took a little thirty minute stroll on over to Chris’s place to meet up with him and the others that were headed out to Pai. After introductions, we all packed into Chris’s truck. Introductions included the following, in no particular order of worth, value, or importance; actually, listing will begin with those names that I am able to remember, Thai names are tough for me to remember. There was Kay, sounds like Ki, who is a German that made it here to Thailand by way of New Zealand. Kai calls New Zealand home now after traveling the world for 9 years of his life. He made his way here with his lady friend Louise. Louise is from New Zealand as well and has done a fair amount of traveling herself. Traveling is how she met Chris; she met him in Antigua while working on a yacht – I may have to check out a job in this yacht industry. Louise does landscaping and Kay is a stone mason. Their professions are only mentioned here because they put their skills to use on the set of the movie “The Hobbit”, which they have been working on for the last year and half and I really was dieing to mention that they were working on the set of this 600 million dollar movie. Then there is this little Thai guy, who’s name is Wainai – I am about hundred percent sure that I have misspelled this name. The fellow is a little over five feet tall and looked like a Thai Mr. Miyagi. He may be a little tougher than the wax on wax off guy though. His body is tatted from neck to toe with several Buddhist images and prayers, many of these he received during his time living in Buddhist temples; Mr. Miyagi is also a guide at the Eco-lodge. He is able to survive in the woods with nothing more than a knife, and I tell ya, if there is some sort of cataclysmic event this time next year - as the Mayans have foretold - then I want to look this fellow up. When I go to the lodge, he plans on taking me out to find a tasty blue tarantula to bite into. Can’t say I’ve ever tasted tarantula but I sure bet that the blue variety are tender once cooked up and served over rice. The others joining us were Mr. Miyagi’s lady friend, young fellow, the young fellow’s young lady friend, and a guy in his late 20’s.

            The drive to Pai was a little under three hours and was through and over the mountains on some very winding roads. I guess I should say something about Pai so that you know why people go to the place. Of course there is plenty of info on the net about the place but I will do my best to give a little run down. Initially the place was filled with a bunch of dread head hippies wearing drawstring hemp pants. There are hot springs that are set up in a way to allow a person to lay back in a natural spring of warm water, rather than in a hot tub of thermally heated water – I hate those damn hot tub hot springs. Due to the elevation of the town the temps in Pai are much cooler than those here in Chiang Mai, which makes for a perfect location in which to enjoy thermal waters running across and wrinkling the skin. But, like many cheap places where hippies and artist inhabit, the masses wondered what the hippies enjoyed about this place in the middle of nowhere and so decided to go and take a look. More and more tourist began making Pai a weekend spot in which to take a little holiday. Then the death nail - as far as the hippies were concerned - to weekends of tranquility was pounded in once a Thai movie - some sort of love story - was shot in Pai. Now, from what I hear, the place is always booked up on the weekends, the hot springs are now closed at six pm – no more candle lit evenings laying back in the trickling tranquil warm waters, damn -  and the price has doubled everywhere. Our trip to Pai was a last minute affair, so we had no reservations. Which was fine by me, I figured, if need be, I would just bundle up in a heavy cotton hoodie and lay my head upon my rucksack under the undisturbed blanket of a star laden evening. We did attempt to find lodging once we arrived and stoped at several bungalows and inns, all were booked and all those we spoke with, when asked if they knew of another place, said that every place was booked and was always booked on the weekend. Also, it didn’t help that there was a festival going on this weekend, the Rice Harvest Festival. There were several tents set up around town and many of these tents turned out to be for rent. So we ended up paying a chunk of change, by Thai standards, to stay in tents on a person’s front yard; a front yard that was at the corner of an ever moving vein of traffic that connected with an equally busy concrete thruway. And next to what was to be our resting place for the evening was the town’s busiest bar, which didn’t usually shut down till around three or four AM. After shelling out my three hundred baht, ten American dollars, for the tent, we all headed into town in order to get the evening on track.

            Louise mentioned that a lunar eclipse would be occurring that night and that she wanted to find a nice vantage point in which to get a good view. Chris mentioned a Reggae bar that would be a good place to view it from, now we had a destination to make our way to once we finished walking through the crowd that filled the streets. We all just grabbed a bite to eat from one of the street vendors, and then sat for a bit to grab some cold beverages. Sitting in this little side street bar that had some white hipster serving drinks along with a little hipster Thai girl, I was thinking to myself, that this place would be a better venue to visit during the week. All of the streets were just too full of people. Let me say this though, there sure was a fair amount of eye candy that my gaze took much benefit from. I do enjoy those pale hippie girls with their loose-fitting attire and their nonchalance. Still, I was more in the mood to simply kick back and enjoy some relaxation, so it was nice when we headed off to the viewing area to watch the eclipse. We ended up at the Reggae bar on another side street which was a little less crowded than where we had been. The bar was like many of the bars in the town, in that it had an open patio that led into a deeper recessed sitting area. There was a pool table, a stage, reggae music, and some pretty laid back individuals milling about. This place was going to be perfect.  It was nice to sit, have a beer, and watch the vanishing luminous orb that sat resting above us and the rest of the hemisphere. I can’t even remember the last time I watched an entire lunar eclipse. It was fortunate to be there with people that I found to be so very enjoyable. After about five hours, the moon began to peak out from the shadow of this rock we were gazing from. And the night went from darkness into a slowly illuminated evening that was just now beginning to adjust and to settle into its normal state of existence. It’s such a strange thing to watch an eclipse occur; although there are no physical changes to speak of, there seems to be a transformative development occurring. Maybe it’s the moon shedding it’s old self, relinquishing the skin of past experience and starting anew. Well, this is at least the thought that arouse as neurotransmitters were sent firing between the synaptic connections in this tangled web of mine. With this thought of transition floating about in my thoughts, we headed off towards our little camp site. Chris and I made a final stop at the bar next to the yard our tents were staked up in for just a few more beverages prior to our search for the sandman. After finishing a whiskey on the rocks I purchased a final tall bottle of Leo beer to take back to the camp site. Chris climbed into his tent and went on to sleep. Me, I stayed up a bit longer, kicked back on a portable hammock, and finished my purchase as I swayed to and fro enjoying the fresh night.

            Morning light is just as bad as the loudest waking bell or squawking feathered creature. Unfortunately for me and my pounding head, two of these three got me started for the day. First the light began to cut through the tent and then through the thin flesh veils keeping my sleep guarded; now, the light it not the best thing in the world when trying to continue in a fine state of slumber but my slumber has many tactics at its disposal in which to employ in order to continue in a place of existence for an extended amount of time. Too bad my slumber had no sort of back up for that squawking fowl creature that was only in the mood to scream in celebration of the new day. Everyone else was up as well and here it was just seven thirty in the AM. After a cup of coffee, I thought to myself that a Bloody Mary might be a better call at the moment. For those of you that drink, you know that feeling you have after a heavy night of consumption without enough sleep. For me it’s as if I just took a small break from drinking and I still had that same buzz from the night before. The impending hangover had not set in yet and I knew that within a few hours I would be in the back of a truck on a winding road that would keep going up and down as it jostled for grip from side to side. I sure wish that I would have just had a beer or something with a bit of the hair of the dog from the night before. So be it, I went with coffee, water and a fried egg sandwich; I have to take my lumps sooner or later, might as well get it over with. We didn’t make it to the hot springs, which was fine by me and my rapidly falling into a hangover self. However, we did head towards a waterfall that was on the way back to Chiang Mai. According to Chris, this was his favorite waterfall in the area. On our way to the waterfall and home I found out something that I did not know or had forgotten that I knew. I was unaware that sitting in the back of a truck for a long period of time while facing your vision towards the tailgate would create the sensation that you are continuing to move once the truck stops. This is a damn awful feeling in itself and if you tag on a full blown hangover, it’s a pretty nauseating affair. Although there were signs signifying stop offs in which a person on this twisting road could vomit, I guess car sickness is a common thing on this road, I did not get sick. Once we arrived at the waterfall my hangover was at its peak but the moist dewy air began to chip away at the symptoms a bit, this was a nice reprieve. Our little band climbed out from our cramped positions in the truck, stretched our legs and arms, and then trekked towards the roaring sounds of a mass amount of water falling into it self. A thunderous sound greeted us once we made it to the falls, and man, this thing was immense. There was a crisp wet air surrounding us and at the elevation we were at it was flat out cold but this chilly temperature was not going to prevent me from getting into the even cooler water - thank you Barton Springs and Deep Eddy for prepping me for the jump into cold depths. Boom, once I pulled my head from the refreshing cool water my hangover dissipated a great deal. Damn I do love me some water falls. There were a few other wonderful things that we were able to see as we hiked through the waterfall area, a wonderful Bamboo forest, a deep crack in the rock that served as a home for a large family of bats, and a few other things, but I’m getting tired of writing and really want to finish a documentary I started, so I am going to finish up here.

            Once we got back to Chiang Mai I had to bid my new compatriots farewell and get back home to that slumber. Maybe I could get back a little of that sleep that I missed out on earlier in the morning. On my walk home I pondered; life is so much better for me when I simply limit the expectations and plans for the day. Keeping a good deal of flexibility along with being open to the whims of the day has provided me with some great experiences. Also I thought, how nice it is to be so easily entertained and find pleasure in such modest undertakings. So if there are no crazy or hair raising adventures that find their way to me, then I am still just as content doing the little things that currently fill my life. This contentment with self and life is a wonderful coin of value that I carry with me. This currency allows me the procurement of many unforgettable and indescribable experiences; it allows me to give fully of self and to enjoy fully those that I love in my life.

Thank you to all those that I give and take love from, you are appreciated.

Thai food and an Ugly American

            Alright, my plan initially was to just give a few details about the very tasty Thai food that I have quickly become accustomed to, unfortunately, I ran into a painful individual yesterday during my golf day; A person that I just can not go without mentioning. First, let me preface by saying, I myself am a humble tourist in this land and in no way am I better than a person that visits for a week nor am I any worse than a person that has lived here for 10 years. I do not want to come across as a person that somehow thinks they are more versed in culture or as some sort of seasoned traveler critiquing fellow travelers. No, if there is one thing that I hate as much as I hate those that disrespect their host, is a self important, patronizing, “Traveler”. Now that I have that out of the way, let me first start by saying that traveling, in my opinion, is not a ride at Disneyworld. A person does not just go from German town, get a corn dog, and then move onto Asia town. It is unfortunate that there are still a few people traveling that seem to believe that the world is just some small amusement park, where their language is spoken in each of the featured worlds and the customs of their culture are the same in all locations around this very large rock. A rock that we share with about 7 billion differing opinions, beliefs, loves, hates, fears, wants, and all the other nuances that are held unto our singular selves. It does constantly amaze me when I am in a non English speaking country and I hear a person say “I can’t believe these people don’t speak English”. Someone actually said these words when I was in Beijing China. It made me ponder how well this statement would go over in Texas. Can you see a Mexican national looking at the WalMart check out lady and snidely stating to his wife in Spanish “Why can’t these people speak Spanish?” This would be much funnier if it just were not so dame reprehensible. “Ok… ok, I get it, Jeff has a pet peeve here”, I can hear you saying, and yes you are correct in your supposition with this one. You know one of the worst things of all about these ungracious guests, is when they are discussing foreigners amongst themselves in their own countries. I am sure it has been said more than once, “these foreigners should learn the language or go home”. Oh my goodness the hypocrisy is making my body shudder in cascades of laughter and my face tighten with intermittent smiles stretching from cheek to cheek.

 Wow! My tangents are never ending, my apologies. To the story of the event that has so motivated me to climb up on this proverbial soap box; I am known to bring this little standing crate out from time to time. The day is Tuesday and it’s nine AM, the day is starting out gorgeous. The temperature is just at about 80 degrees; there are just a few low clouds drifting like languid climbers over the mountains surrounding a well manicured golf course. This is a golf course that I have wanted to play for a good while now and here I finally am. A buddy from my language school who goes by the name of Smiley asked if I wanted to play today. Here’s the run down leading to the tee box. First we pay our fees, check in with the starter, and then we pair up with our mandatory female caddies. My nerves are now tingling a bit from a few of the following external factors that I seem to always internalize. First, I have never played this course and it looks tough; there is water everywhere and oh man, so much sand. Bunkers are pretty much death traps for my golf game. Second, I am playing golf with someone I have never played with before. Now these factors in themselves are enough to throw my delicately balanced golf game and mental state out of whack, but then a cherry on top of this nerve inducing scenario is thrown my way. We our paired up with some loud guy from Jersey, who is wearing a bright tangerine colored shirt and who has some sort of gaudy looking leather golf bag with his name “Bob Mathews” sewn into the side and the poor little caddy lady is having to lug this huge ass thing around behind him. This bag looked like something Rodney Dangerfield would have been proud to have during a round in the movie Caddy Shack. Now, I have met plenty of great people from this little spot in the North East, that they call New Jersey, who are fine people to know but I wouldn’t say that the majority that I have met from this part of the country are people that I enjoy long conversations with. Still, here it is a beautiful day, I’m not at work, and I am just looking forward to playing a friendly game of hit the little white ball around the big field of grass. Ole Smiley and I introduced our selves to Bob; the first thing Bob say’s is “What kind of name is Smiley?” 

All of our tee shots were grouped together a good ways out in the fairway and we are in great position after teeing off from tee box number one. Bob is up first to hit; the guy just walks up and hits the ball, no pre-shot routine no time wasted. Personally, I feel that you do whatever you like with your golf swing, pre-shot routine and game, that’s your thing; we each play in our own way. Smiley plays considerably slower than Mr Bob and Bob is being pretty vocal about how slow smiley is playing. Man this guy, really, what the hell. Now I am thinking that I need to speed up my game, I do and my game begins to suffer for it. All the while as we are walking from hole to hole, this Bob guy is telling me how it is just a waste of time for Smiley and I to go to language school. He say’s “these people don’t care if you know their language or not, they'll fuck you over either way” and “you won’t get anything out of it”, yes, he said these people. He tells how he has lived here for 10 years, was married to a Thai women – he has that ugly desperate to find a wife on the internet look -, and goes on to say more disparaging things about the country, the people and the culture. Yes, this guy is just a load of good times. This dilemma that I now find myself stuck in, that is, being trapped with someone for an extended amount of time that says a bunch of raciest statements and that is the type of person that I would rather see never; is not something new. When I find myself in this situation I always I have to do a internal measure, will it be worth my breath to try to convince some mentally challenged, backwoods, banjo plucking, hardheaded, raciest fellow that he should change his raciest sentiments? Do I go along with him so as not to rock the boat, to keep the societal norm of non aggression in place? Or do what I do. Again I have been in this situation a few times and I find that I am always angry with myself later; upon reflection I wonder why I was unable to find the words to rebuke those of this person who is only emboldened by my silence. So in this case I made sure to smile as I simply told him that I disagreed with what he was saying. I didn’t get into a discussion with the blow hard; I just laughed at him and gave his words no credence. He did stop with the racist shit and just kept that big mouth of his focused on how slow Smiley was playing. It should be understood, that yes, Smiley was playing a little slow, but nothing out of the ordinary and Smiley is a pretty good golfer, so even if he was slow on taking his shot, there was no time wasted on re-hitting a lost ball, finding a ball, or re-hitting another ball as a muligan. What’s funny is that this Bob guy couldn’t hit the ball straight at all and would hit like three balls off the tee. Of course he blamed his poor play on the slow play of Smiley and then he would yell at his Thai caddie to do this or that. Well, then finally it all came to a head when on hole 8, Smiley did something that he had not done in his 30 years of playing this elusive and temperamental game of golf. He got a hole in one on a 174 yard par 3. Smiley was jumping up and down, I was patting him on the back, and the caddies were laughing and took a picture of him taking his ball from the cup. This hole in one thing is kind of a big deal for most golfers. Even this golf course makes a big deal out of it by putting up a plaque with the name of the golfer who made the hole in one, as well as put the ball in a small little clear encasement. Nope, Bob did not think that this was such a big deal and made it known that he had just made a hole in one just last week and didn’t think it was such a big deal, he was just upset with how the celebration was slowing him down. Hey and that’s cool Bob, but my friend Smiley thought it was a pretty big deal and should get his chance to bask in this rare feat. Hell, smiley is a 60 year old man, who I think enjoys marking things off of his bucket list. Anyway, Bob starts yelling about how this is all bullshit and how Smiley is just using junior golf tactics to mess up his game. Oh man, I just started laughing out loud; this did not help the situation. Bob made it clear that he would be playing the next nine holes on his own. The thing is that there were two groups in front of us, so Bob needed to skip the next two holes just so he wouldn’t have to play anymore slow golf with us. Ahhhhhhhhhh, what I sense of relief it is. Bob is like some sort of darkish malignant melanoma that, instead of needing to be cut away, just shriveled up and fell away of its own accord.

Needless to say, after Bob’s departure, Smiley and I had a great time. We chatted and laughed with our caddies at Bob’s expense, this thanks to our “useless” language course. It is just hard for me to believe that there are still people like this Bob guy still in the world. Not sure why these people are still around but maybe history has shown this sort of person since the beginning of territorial conquest. It seems to be a natural tendency to demonize or subjugate other cultures and populaces when ones own insecurity prevents assimilation. 

            Whatever, like a receptive sponge, I will capture it all and expunge those things that are of no benefit and retain what it is that will help me grow into a more whole individual. Ah, that’s just me though. Closed minded works for others, it’s just not the course I’m on at the moment.

This opinion of mine could be in someway contributed to by a book that I am currently reading called “A Passage to India” as well as another book I read a few years back called “Palace Walk” and a few other various books, documentaries and such. I wonder if I just took this opportunity to list books I have read, so that you as a reader would know that I have read some books. How very pretentious of me, my apologies

            I promise to talk about the food next time.