Green pt 2 (Koh Chang Island)

You might be tempted to think that I'd learned my lesson then, and never touched pot again. But I still had that slice in my bag. Arriving in Bangkok, I spent a little more time with Jack before deciding to take off for Koh Chang, one of the many resort islands in the Gulf of Thailand. After 15 hours on a train, 6 hours on a bus, another hour on a ferry, and nearly an hour in a pickup truck made for one marathon commute. But the island was beautiful, jungle swathed mountains that quickly fall into white soft beaches. This is the Thailand people imagine.

Small shacks (more bamboo and corrugated tin) held a multitude of bars. Too many bars, with not enough patrons. Only one or two old white European men with young Thai 'girlfriends' populated any given one, and the unpaired women would call and heckle loudly every time you walked past, even if you'd just walked past and refused a minute before.

Kae Bae, the 'town' I was staying in, was just too quiet. Thankfully, I met another American from Seattle named Josh who was happy to show me around. I stuffed my book and water under the seat of his motorbike and hopped on the back, and we took off for White Sands Beach. There we took off our shoes and walked along quiet paradise, before wandering out to a sandbar and lighting up another joint I'd rolled. It really was beautiful, with the moon above, the ocean reeling out in front, the sand behind, and some creepy dude staring at us.

From there, things get more hazy. We walked along the beach and somehow added a Danish girl to our traveling party. It took alot of energy to just have a normal conversation, but we split a few beers and chatted for an hour before she decided to head for bed. I was tempted to go too, but Josh wanted to go party. To be fair, it was only midnight, and there was really only one bar that had any activity. We went in, went to the back, and went for more beer.

A Thai girl came up to me and struck up a conversation. Again, I participated with difficulty. When it came time for me to buy another beer, she wanted me to buy her one too. A gentleman, I did. Mistake. Seeing I had money, she then wanted to dance. I can barely dance anyway, but dancing high I'm just awkward. She moved her hands up and down my body. Then she took one of my hands and put it on her small breast. "You like?" she asked perkily. I just stammered and smiled and tried to avoid eye contact, but my hand stayed. So she took her hand, and grabbed my penis through my jeans. "Would you like to go somewhere?" she asked innocently. I said "Yes, I'd love to go for a smoke, stay here" and quickly retreated outside.

I spent much of the rest of that night hanging out outside the bar, chatting with drunk French girls and crazy local Thais. Every once in awhile, Josh would come out and drag me back in. Significantly more drunk than before, he made it his uninvited mission to teach me how to pick up a girl. He'd grab one by the hand and start swing dancing with her, before swiftly moving into a grind dance. Almost smooth, but supremely awkward. Naturally it worked, because he's a young white guy with money. But I for one couldn't deal with the money-hounding attention and kept retreating outside. As the drugs wore off, I went from being intimidated to simply being annoyed. By the time 2am rolled around and the bar closed, I simply wanted to go home.

Josh at this point hadn't given up. Its funny, he could get any girl with a few bucks, but on 'principle' he refused to pay. So no girl wanted him, since most women you find after midnight on Ko Chang are prostitutes. Sorry, its simply true. I dragged him away from his doomed affair, and demand he take me home. To his credit, he relented, and we went to find his motorbike. We walked up and down the street for 20 minutes, and it was nowhere to be seen. Josh decided to take off further back down the road to look, but I decided to stay and wait.

I never saw him again. Odds are, his motorbike was down there. I hope he enjoys my book.

Before long, all the motorbikes had dispersed, and I was left largely alone on the street. No taxis in sight. I considered walking, but it would've taken about 4 hours. After a few minutes, a car rolled down the street, and I flagged it. The black car pulled over, and rolled down its window. Inside were two fairly attractive women in thick makeup. "You want a fun time?" one asked. Goddamn it.

Thinking fast, I put my hand to my head. "I don't feel so good..." I moaned. The hooker closest to me looked concerned. "Do you need help?" "I just need to get... to my bed..." I mumbled. The driver asked me where I needed to go, and I told her Kai Bae. She frowned for a moment, then told me to get in. I got in the back, and we took off down the road. As we went, I kept my eyes open for Josh but couldn't see him.

Rather than go to Kae Bae, the lovely prostitutes took me to their bar which they were just opening at 3am. They offered me a drink, and sex, and a hoola-hoop show, and more sex, and more drinks. With every offer, I just got more and more 'sick'. When I threatened to vomit, they stopped being amused. "We'll take you home. 300 baht." For the record, the taxi costs 50. And they may very well might try to rob me. But I really wanted to go home, so I relented. One in the drivers seat, one in the back seat next to me chatting in Thai with the driver. My hands never left my wallet. To their credit, they may have totally sharked me with the money, but they drove me to my bungalow.

Retelling this story the next day to my new neighbour, he rolled his eyes. "A taxi ride for 300 baht? You totally could've negotiated a blowjob." This is Thailand.

I only have one more drug story. I have plenty of it left in my bag, most likely to get thrown out before I go to the orphanage. But I rolled one finally joint the next night. I walked around town for a bit before finding a set-back bar inside a resort where a group of 4 older white dudes were playing in their live jazz band. Past the bar and back down the path were some bungalows, and beyond that a pool. I sat in a sheltered cove at the pool, where I could still here the jazz, and lit up.

I'd smoked about half when a man walked around the corner, walked directly up to me, and asked in an American accent, "Can I help you with something?" Figuring him for bar staff, I said politely "Oh, I'm sorry, can I not smoke here?" He replied snarkily, "Not when it's ganja." I shrugged and said "Fair enough, I'll be leaving." No need to cause a scene I figured, since if I left quickly and quietly he'll just pretend I was never there. And that's exactly what happened. I licked my fingers and snuffed out the J before stuffing it in my pocket and walking out of the resort.

I realized, as I walked down the street, that he could smell the drugs from quite a distance, and came right for me. Maybe not such a big deal with a farang bartender used to it, but there's no reason the train conductors or even train police couldn't smell it. Simply put, I'd gotten away with it out of sheer luck. If a cop felt even a mild inclination to take a piss, I'd have been fucked.

I lit up and finished my joint while walking an abandoned road - or so I thought - by the water. Then I went back to the bar next to my bungalow, laid in a hammock, and enjoyed the chilled out music. I didn't feel fear. I was a pleasant high, and enjoying myself. But I was still bored and alone and stoned in Thailand and even got busted for it. To mock myself, the grass wasn't greener.

Update: The last night I went to Lonely Beach, the place I was originally supposed to go. As expected, it seemed infinatly more fun. I went to a party on the beach which was small but pleasant. Somehow I ended up bouncing from Random Brit to Highly Drunk Bungalow Neighbours to Swedish Guy (I think I just thought he was cute and struck up a conversation), to Stoner Norwegian to Coke Dealer Canadian. The night ended at sunrise in front of the Canadian's bungalow. I rejected his offer to fuck a prostitute on his dime (so I think he just took both for himself), but with a bucket drink of vodka and lemon soda, no less than three joints (one of which I rolled myself), and two lines of coke, I think illegal drugs have now become an indelible part of my Thai experience.

Here's the upside: Coke bored me again. Second time I've done it in my life, and I'm still not impressed. Can't say I'll never do it again, but I have no desire to seek it out, and definately no desire to buy it. After sunrise, after I'd already come down off the coke and was only high on pot, I still had to shamble back to my bungalow, pack my bag, and catch a ferry. Being high wasn't fun, it was a moderate annoyance I had to overcome to be productive. I really hope I've learned some drug-related lessons in the past month...