Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Jack Talk Thai, Part I

The days before our trip were as fast and furious as Britney's breakdown. I was traveling, unfortunately, to Providence RI, and Worcester, MA. I found myself putting in 12 hour work days, with nary a moment to blog.

The morning of the 21st, I arose at 5 AM in Worcester; drove to Providence; hopped a plane for Philly; took a cab to Manayunk; worked and packed all day; until Future Sis-In-Law whisked J and me to 30th Street Station, from which we high-tailed it to New York. Lovely ex-roommate Vanessa let us crash at her Hudson Street apartment for the evening, and at 8 AM, Feb. 22nd, we were finally JFK-bound.

Nerve Tonic in hand, we boarded our 17-hour flight to Bangkok. (Sweet, sweet Nerve Tonic. In lieu of valium, I opted for a homeopathic stress reliever, which I found earlier in the week at CVS. I don't really believe it did a fucking thing, but hey, I survived 40 hours of flying without a single panic attack! Am awesome and fearless.)

Flight was actually quite lovely, as I got to watch a ton of television and movies! And eat delicious Thai food! And I actually was able to sleep! Although, J and I were roused several times by the hippie woman behind us SCREAMING bloody murder, apparently in her sleep. And my GOD, the farting. But other than that, bravo Thai Airways. Bravo.

After another short flight from Bangkok, we made it through customs at Chiang Mai with no Brokedown Palace incidents, and at approximately 9 PM Thai time (9 AM our time, so yeah, 21 hours after we started this journey), we were delighted to find a man with a sign, bearing J's last name. And lo, though I practiced it mercilessly before we left, this moment was to be the only time one of us would utter the phrase:

"Poot pa sa ang grit dai mai?"

Which means, "Do you speak English?"

And then the reply: "Nit noi."

Which means, "A little."

Wow. Don't act like you're not impressed.

And so we rode in a taxi to our first hotel, the serene Tamarind Village. Which is truly a story for another day.

To be continued, bitches.

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