We had a second part to our mission that day: I was out of Baht and Kady had far more than was desirable considering she was headed to a new country with new currency and that's a recipe for a an atrocious exchange rate. This set us up for a potentially mutually-beneficial co-dependent relationship. But, still, it was a delicate mission. We needed to come as close to using it all up as possible without necessitating an ATM withdrawal. It would be my turn to withdraw as I was the one out of Baht. My bank is the devil and charges me 5 USD to use an International ATM... Thailand charges me 5 USD to use the ATM... which means that pulling out 5 USD would actually cost $15. Fifteen Dollars! That is food, lodge, and all transportation for an entire day in Thailand.
Kady and I piled onto the bus. For a few moments we ignorantly wondered who had made the mistake and sold too many tickets. Then we remembered this is what we had signed up for.
Kady and I piled onto the bus. For a few moments we ignorantly wondered who had made the mistake and sold too many tickets. Then we remembered this is what we had signed up for.
We quickly learned that any Thai person walking along the street was a potential fare. The bus would simply slow down, the doors would swing open and one of the surplus employees would hang outside and yell. Kady and I had found seats across from one another in the very front row which, along with our singled-out Western-ness, allowed us to be the chosen targets of the abusive fare-collector. He smacked Kady on the arm demanding her ticket. He banged his coin-jar on my shin to get me out of the way as he slithered through the sea of swaying bodies packed into every crevice the bus offered in order to collect the recent boarders' fares. He made us move and stand and rearrange as much as he possibly could, all the while with a slimy smirk on his face. But, you see, little did he know the joke was on him; we had beat the system- cracked the code. We had payed the same as every person on that bus- all 150 of them sitting three to a seat and piled on the floor and standing in the aisle. So what if we had to put up with a little bit of abuse? Every time he smacked that coin-jar on my shin, my chest puffed with self-righteousness. He was simply giving us a better story.
Kady and I split noodles for 30 baht at the designated commission-earning post en route. We had 57 baht left. We had paid for our tickets to the border town of Malaysia and were therefore expecting/hoping to be able to pay for the next leg by pulling Malaysian currency out of a Malaysian ATM.
We arrived at the "border" town to find out... it wasn't actually on the border. Everyone had told us it was the border town and we could get the bus to Malaysia from there. Our guidebook told us so... the locals told us so.
But for whatever reason... this day... it wasn't so.
CLONK!
The official-looking workers in their official-looking vests tried to sell us tickets on a minivan going to Penang. We even got the price down to around 300 baht. Purchasing these would have still delivered us to Penang for 527 baht- 73 baht under target... but the principle! The principle!
We knew there was a bus. A BUS bus- a local bus- a cheap bus. They just wouldn't let us get on it!
One of the be-vested workers: "No big bus. Only mini-van. Malaysia holiday. All come here now go back to Malaysia"
Kady: "I don't believe you!" (pointing)
Man: "Only mini-van; no big bus."
Kady: "Oh really? All the Malaysians are going back to Malaysia in a mini-van? Hundreds of Malaysians returning to Malaysia twelve at a time in a mini-van? Where's the bus all the Malaysians are taking back!? I want that bus."
Man: "No bus, only mini van."
To this day, we know he was lying. Because we know, we know there is a bus to Malaysia from that town. But we were flustered and exhausted and we just didn't speak Thai. We needed to get to a different town, a real border town. Which we could do for 40 baht *click!* a person. We could get to the border- the border border of Malaysia and walk across for 40 baht a person. But that's 80 baht. And all we had was 57 baht. *CLONK!* My heart sank as I realized all I needed was 23 baht- TWENTY THREE BAHT!!! That's 72 cents. And it was going to cost me 10 dollars to pull that out.
Now, this had nothing to do with their system; I could have just as easily had to pull Baht out two or three days earlier if I had purchased another water bottle or coffee, etc... yet it was at this point that I began to suspect we would be beat by their system. However, haggard as we were, we were going to keep fighting. Kady and I split a 40 baht beer, I pulled money out of the ATM (thankful that I can use the Baht when I return to Bangkok shortly before flying home to Vermont), and we chased after the bus.
Flinging my bags onto the second local bus of the day, I was shaky and dehydrated and hot. A nice family in the back of the bus helped me try and rearrange my disheveled bags. At this point, I'm having trouble lifting my suitcase on my own and my backpack seems to weigh about 20 pounds more than at the beginning of the day. Before I know it, I've got thirty things out of my bag, trying to reorganize them in a manner that will make zipping my luggage possible.
And that's when the bus decided to stop in the middle of the freeway. The nice family translated the orders that were being barked at us: We were to get off of this bus. We were to get on another bus. A bus that was sitting on the other side of the freeway... on the other side of six lanes of traffic. Before I knew it, Kady was off the bus bounding across all six lanes. I frantically tried to shove everything back in my bag but all the items had magically expanded and no longer fit. My hands shook from low blood sugar and nerves and my bag exploded everywhere- its contents rolling around on the bottom of the bus... the driver barking barking barking at me... hysteria sneakily clawing its way up from my stomach making my throat tight... I almost twist my ankle as I exit the bus... dizzy shaky head rushes threaten me... There was no doubt about it: I had gone to the dark side- the place that is reserved for me when it's that hot outside, I've gone that long without eating, and am that sleep-deprived. I am no longer capable of thinking the thoughts of a sane person and cannot be held accountable for this.
I was able to make it across the first three lanes of traffic to arrive at the median. The median was about three and a half feet tall. I lifted my bag to the top of the mound of grass- arms shaking shaking shaking. I pull myself on top of the grassy median and survey my next feat- climb down off median and cross three lanes of racing traffic.
I've lost all sense of reason at this point. I look into oncoming traffic and see what appears to be miles and miles of non-stop automobiles piled up, twisting snakelike into the horizon and zooming past me. Rationale has departed and I decide that the only logical explanation for this misery is that it is all Kady's fault.
There she sat on the bus looking out the window laughing- laughing at me. How could she do this to me? How could she make the bus stop and make me get on another one? How could she make sure that the bus stopped at the exact moment I had emptied the contents of my bag onto my lap? How could she just leave me there with my crap rolling around on the bus floor, hands shaking? Look at her- sitting on that bus gloating at my suffering. How could she do this to me?
Miraculously, there is a clearing in the traffic. The wheels of my roll-y bag make contact with the road as I fluidly race across the street pulling it by the handle. Navigating the pavement and gravel of Asia with a rolling suitcase is no easy feat. But this bag and I have become One. I know the exact velocity at which I can travel while pulling this bag behind me to achieve optimal speed without it toppling over. However, to Kady, this tactical method appeared as me sauntering across the highway.
After climbing on the bus and Kady and I sharing a few choice words with one another in front of a Thai audience, we arrived at at least a loose understanding of the other person's perspective: It was not Kady's fault the bus stopped; she did not know my crap fell out of my bag all over the bus; her intention was to hold the bus; and I was moving as fast as I could to avoid a toppled bag or sprained ankle- not moving in slow motion to prove a point.
Kady has never let me go that long without eating ever again.
I sat in the seat in front of Kady. The windows on this bus were no school-bus windows; they were heavy. The kind of heavy that requires exertion in a standing position in order to lift. My window was awkwardly positioned with 1/3 of it behind my seat-back which required Kady to help me lift it. As the bus rambled on and the breeze drifted in, I strained to find humor in the day. I knew deep down at the end of it all when we were in air-conditioned beds with full bellies in Penang, we would laugh at this day's misery. Oh how we would laugh! However, I also knew that we still had a long way to travel.
As I wrapped my mind around how we could maybe-just-maybe still win... the window came crashing down on my arm. All seventy-five screaming pounds of it. I let out a huge awful animalistic groan/scream. The entire bus turned to look. I bit my tongue as the tears streamed down my face. Kady laughed and laughed and laughed. Not because it was funny.
But because it was awful.
Thankfully the giant red welt that would turn purple then blue then green and so on as it spread over a good seven-inches-in-diameter swollen bruise-glob on my bicep was a nice badge for the next three weeks- To remind Kady that it was she who did not latch her side of the window.
...To remind her of that time she made the bus stop and made my crap fall everywhere and made me risk my life zig-zagging across a freeway.
Kady and Summer: 4 points
The System: 6 points
To be continued...
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