When I first booked my ticket to Thailand, I have to be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. The old travel bug had hit so I searched the web for the farthest place that I could go for the cheapest (which turns out, is Bangkok, Thailand), I booked my flights, packed my bags, and left in less than a week.
Had I researched anything about Thailand? Hardly nothing.
Did I know the language or customs? Not at all.
Did I know where I would be staying? Hadn’t really thought that through.
But I had seen the pictures of exotic beaches and zip-lines in the jungles- it had to be dreamy.
So when I stepped outside the airport, bogged down by an aggressive heatwave, which felt like a hot towel was smothering my face, I was a little shocked. And when I walked through Bangkok’s crowded streets, dribbled on by wet overhanging canvases and attacked with rotting seafood stenches, I will admit I wanted to go back to Wyoming more than anything else in the world.
Wyoming is safe, where people love and support me and there is food to eat that won’t possibly poison my insides. But I had to do this. My mind was hardly working anymore from five straight days of traveling and no sleep, so I hunted down a hostel and slept for thirteen hours.
An Alley Cat by My Hostel
I awoke the next morning and lay staring at the ceiling, contemplating my most recent life decision. What was I doing here? It felt like I had just run away and not thought anything through, and now I was stuck...in the northeast...for thirty days. I forced myself out of bed and washed my face. The sun was barely peeking over the city’s horizon and I thought, maybe it will be quiet and peaceful and I’ll take a morning walk in the empty city.
Shoes Out for Air
I have never been more wrong in my life!
Before I knew it, I was hopping over beggars and running away from speeding mopeds, barraged by the city’s aggressive heat. I squeezed into a side alley, which turned out to be a throbbing marketplace, buzzing with bargains and laughter and hacking of fish and bagging of vegetables.
Setting up Shop
Families in tuk tuks and mopeds slowed momentarily on the road and shouted purchases to venders, who bagged their orders and threw them over the sidewalk. Street food sizzled. Buyers haggled with vendors. It was an absolute zoo, and I loved it.
A Worker Wiping His Brow in the Heat
One thing that particularly caught my eye were the Buddhist monks. They walked through the crowds, holding bowls. When a street vender threw a food donation into the bowl, the monk stopped and prayed with that person. I first noticed this when a women, who I was trying to purchase some apples from, suddenly ran over to a monk with glowing eyes and knelt at his feet for a blessing. All of the Thai people showed immense respect towards these monks, and it was hard not to revere their very presence, as they traveled silently through the chaos.
Finding Peace in the Chaos
I smiled at these little wonders and walked back towards my hostel. The streets seemed less aggressive on my walk back, and the heat, less unbearable. Because I remembered why I was here. Regardless of whatever pains travel offers, and whatever discomfort, I must do it because it reminds me that I am alive! It reminds me to love whomever I stumble upon and to live every moment with such passion, that I will remember it forever.
Tennessee Williams once wrote, “There is a time for departure, even when there’s no certain place to go.”
So here I am, exploring the unknown. Where will I be tomorrow? Who knows. But that's the fun of life, isn’t it?
Catch you down the road,
Clara