| |
| 360 degree sweat! |
My connecting flight from Bangkok to the relatively small
town of Surat Thani in Southern Thailand, took a little over an hour. I was
looking haggard. My new boss was picking me up from the airport and I had hoped
to present myself as an eager young professional; fresh, clean and ready for
this new adventure. I had imagined myself tucking my hair shyly being my ear
and then flashing a bright smile as I chirped my thanks for being given this
wonderful opportunity. In reality, I was exhausted.
I had spent the night in the Bangkok airport because I was much too apprehensive to think about venturing away from the relative comfort of such a cookie cutter facility. This caused me a small amount of shame because I felt I was already tip toeing away from the ‘full’ experience. (The 'full' experience being what 'travellers' and not tourists do. Or so I had read.) I soothed myself with the knowledge that it was only the first day. As I stepped out of the plane and onto the rickety steps leading down to the Surat runway, the full blast of midday heat bitch-slapped me in the face. I began to regret that I was facing this day on only a few stolen hours of sleep.
Had I ventured farther outside the
airport doors at Suvanamaboomerang and realized the extent of the brutal, relentless heat that is an
everyday companion to Thai life, I would have taken a minute to gaze fondly at
my frozen drool. I had chosen to complain, rather than cherish, the frozen
tundra of Survanamaboom and now I was trudging across the heat blanketed tarmac
of Surat Thani airport. Within the three minutes it took to walk to the
terminal I was dripping sweat. Literally dripping. I had experienced the
literary phenomenon of dripping sweat before, notably after hour long soccer
matches in the middle of summer, but never in my life had a 3 minute walk ended
with salty tendrils of sweat rippling down my back. I did a discrete visual of
my armpits only to be greeted by an unpleasant waft of ‘eau de three day
travel’ and large coffee mug sized rings
of damp material. I was not excited to
be meeting the new boss man in such a state of unhygienic disarray but I forged
on, two hands grabbed my man-sized backpack off the turnstile (which I am sure
caused a few more salty droplets) and headed toward the pick-up area.
When questioned over the phone about how I would recognize him, my boss had replied with humor ‘Oh, don’t worry I will be the only six foot, bald, white guy.” Sounded easy enough, but I was still a little worried that perhaps we would miss each other and I would be stranded in a small city in Thailand with no idea of where to go or how to get there. I should not have worried. As I passed through the smoked glass door into the waiting area I looked up and spotted him immediately.
He was not the only six foot bald white guy but he was, in fact, the only white guy. I walked toward him with my man-sized backpack teetering precariously. I smiled, a large sense of relief washing over me, then I realized that something else was washing over me as well. Sweat was now dripping directly into my eyes, courtesy of the extra effort required to carry my gargantuan back pack. Just as I reached up and palmed the sweat off of my forehead my new boss thrust out his hand in greeting. Reaching out to shake his hand I quickly realized that the slime of sweat that now coated my hand might not be an appreciated exchange of fluids. I quickly wiped my hand on my jeans creating a perfect hand sized imprint of damp material. I looked up, faced flushed with heat and embarrassment, as my new boss man smiled knowingly and said ‘Welcome to Thailand.’
| They call it International, but it only flies to Bangkok. First taste that not everything in Thailand is what it seems... |
 |
| The sun that is causing those shadows is not the same sun that I knew from Saskatoon. This sun is stranger. |
No comments:
Post a Comment