May 26, 2004

Driving In Thailand
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

-Part 3-

Well, after spending all day with my Thai family and friends, and painting the bathroom and one of the bedrooms, I decided it was time to hit the road and return to the hotel. I kept the room for a couple of days because we were painting, and I wanted to use the pool so I could bring my lady's look sow (daughter) and her nieces and a nephew for a swim over the weekend. Who wants to sleep in the paint fumes anyway? Only 700 baht extra a night for a couple of days.

It was around midnight by then, and I was pretty tired after such a long day, so we said our goodbyes and left. I made the torturous drive over the dike mud road without incident, and hit the main highway in about a half hour. The roads were pretty empty at this hour. Dark too. Not many street lights (read none) in these areas. The farmers go to bed pretty early, so the buffalo are all put away, and the rice paddy tractors are not out and about, making for a much quicker, and more enjoyable, drive back to Surin.

Before leaving my lady's her sister had warned me not to drive with my windows down at night on the dark, deserted, roads. "Why, mosquitoes?" I said. "No, mafia." was her reply. "What?" I said. She proceeded to tell me a story about a German falang who, while driving one night on the deserted roads, had a lady run in the road looking all distressed and waving her arms at him. He stopped to see if he could help her and a couple of guys (ya ba -speed- freaks, drug users, it was later reported), one with a gun, proceeded to rob him. So my lady now will not let me drive with the windows down at night. Thanks Sis for scaring the shit out of her. She's always telling these 'Mafia' stories to us, and making my lady paranoid as hell in the process. I promised not to stop for any reason, and to leave the windows up. (I think Toyota installs bullet proof glass in all their pick-ups don't they?) Sheesh!

So we're tooling down the road, with the windows up, and it starts to rain lightly. I hit the wipers and we drive in silence for a while. No music now, just content in sitting with each other. Her hand is on my thigh and she's nodding off a bit. I love quiet moments like this. All of a sudden I hear this loud popping sound from the front of the truck. "Ah, what the hell?" I grumble, and pull over to check the tires. Now my lady is wide awake, and she asks me what I'm doing. "I'm pulling over to check the tires, darling." I tell her. "Be careful, darling." she says to me. "Yeah, no problem." I say. I imagine she has thoughts of the so-called mafia robbers and rapists pouring out of the rice paddies as soon as we stop. Thanks Sis. I get out in the rain and do a quick check of the tires. It's pitch black out and I can't see much, but everything seems okay. I can't hear any leaking air, so I jump back in the truck and start to drive again. My lass asks what was wrong, and I tell her, "Nothing, no problem." All of a sudden we hear another popping sound, and another, and another! What the hell is this? I slow down a bit, and suddenly notice something moving on the road in the wash of the headlight beams that I switched to high. "What the hell IS that?'" I say to myself. Now I notice a huge frog jumping across the road in the headlight beams. And, there is not just one. There are shitloads of frogs hopping all over the road. Thousands of them, nay, millions it looks like. And I'm running over and killing tons of them! The little ones and medium sized ones don't make a sound when you squish the poor buggers. But the big muthas make a loud popping sound when you score a direct hit with the front tires. "Jesus Christ! Look at them all!" I say to my lady. Question. Why did the frog cross the road? Answer. Who the hell knows. He's going from one rice paddy to another across the road that is exactly identical to the one he left. What? Are there more mosquitos over on the other side to eat? I finally tell my lady that I believe these frogs are suicidal. Do frogs go to heaven? I don't know. But if they do I have just populated heaven with a shitload of froggies man. Just call me the Jack Kevorkian for all of Thailand's suicidal frogs. At first I try to avoid all I can, but this gets a little dangerous on the slick road, and I finally give up caring about the dumb freakin' things. POP! POP, POP! POP POP POP POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP! I'm starting to get a rhythm going here, and break out into a Frank Zappa song about frogs I used to love. My lady looks at me as though I'm nuts. I am, so I don't get insulted, and I start laughing, and ask her if she'd like me to stop and get her some froggies for breakfast tomorrow. "Mmmmmmm! Kow Pad Froggy! Yummy!" I say to her. "Kow Tom Frog soup! Delicious I would think." She gives me a punch and a dirty look. But I think she's thinking seriously about my offer to stop. I've told her before I think the Thais are Ba Ba Bo Bo (crazy) when it comes to food. They'll eat damn near anything, and every part of anything. They'll eat the frigging tires off the truck if they were hungry enough and nothing else was available. And make it taste good and spicy too! Hey, every time I stop on the side of the road with some Thai women in the back of the pick-up they will proceed to descend upon the countryside like a plague of locusts, stripping nearby foliage and trees bare, and munching away with glee!

My Thai family is all women, no men at all. (Except old Papa who lives in Pattaya, and who is never around. A notorious butterfly in his youth, so I'm told.) My lady, 5 sisters, and Mama, and a boatload of aunts and neices. (One 6 year old nephew, my lone guy pal, who agrees with me that the ladies are all Ba ba Bo bo (crazy), and yak too much. I'm not complaining though. They treat me like a king. I never want for food, or a beer, or a decent massage. I feel like an old silverback gorilla being groomed by his harem most of the time. Now if they'd only be quiet once in a while I'd be in heaven. Yakkity, yakkity, yak! Shaddup for God's sake. I'm trying to watch the game! They laugh and ignore me.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4