Ubon and the Motorbike Adventure!

Earlier this week our director had told us (us being my roommate, Heather, and I) that town (where we could shop, get food, hang out by the river) was only about 2km away. Not bad, totally walkable I thought—until I saw a sign that read town was 4km away, the edge of town. Not the center where all the food carts are, but the edge of town where the police station is located.

Heather and I were hungry and bored of being stuck in our little white house with the white picket fence—so we set off for town on foot! Walking against the traffic (to be safe) on a busy road the two farangs got lots of stares; I can only imagine what the locals were snickering to each other in Thai as they zoomed by on their motorbikes—most overloaded with children and goods from the market.

Our little house

Our little house

Fast forward 20 or so minutes, rounding the bend just past one of the many parks that has historical ruins and big Buddhas, a woman on a motorbike says Stop! Stop! Teachas? Teachas?

Yes! Heather and I both say, confused…we are the only whities in this town but how did she know we were teachers?

I…am Ubon. Our director had told us of Ubon! She was our motorbike lady! Ubon’s English is limited and we begin conversing in a series of wild arm flails and wild gestures. This game of charades eventually led to me getting on the bike with Ubon, Heather taking a seat next to a big Buddha and Ubon and I zooming away in the sunset to go get copies of our house keys and a quick tour of Kamphaeng Phet.

River Ping

River Ping

This is the moment KP got so much cooler. As we drove along the Ping River I notice many sets of outdoor fitness equipment, people walking and running on the sidewalk along the river, games of tennis, hacky sack and other sports starting up and then the big market where Heather and I were told to get dinner and sit by the river to eat. Ubon was basically my new best friend.

I assumed she and I would circle back and pick Heather up and we would all go get a meal together, flailing, gesturing and pantomiming our way through the evening. However, when we got to Heather Ubon got off the bike and gestured me to get in the driver’s seat. I gave my best really? Face and quickly hopped forward. I zoomed around the parking lot once or twice before Heather hopped on.

Ubon waved goodbye as we maneuvered the bike onto the Thai road and rode away to go get some dinner by the river.

 

Market

Market

As I’ve traveled through my years I’ve learned to just go with the flow. In Chile I rarely had a clue what was going on but things worked out, people are here to help us and Ubon saw us and recognized us at the exact right time. By not being afraid, not being too nervous and just going with it I’m finding travel and life to be way more enjoyable!

 

Down by the riverside

Down by the riverside

The phrase in Thai Mai pen rai literally translates to not to worry or not a problem. But it’s more of a way of life here. Mai pen rai.

 

Safety first

Safety first

 

**Stay tuned for more on the Riverside awesomeness…I have yet to completely explore all the options of amazing things to do!

 

Legit Thailand

After a rocky start of missing my flight (I won’t go into details for another few years…) I finally made it to Thailand. That’s right, I’m in Thailand, I have been for almost a week. I’m going to fast forward through all the orientation boringness and talk about the moment I put my running shoes on this afternoon.

 

–Side note: I have been surrounded by 90 other Farangs (Thai word for foreigner,) doing touristy stuff, learning how to speak a little bit of Thai, learning how to teach English too, I have finally landed myself in Kamphaeng Phet where I will be living and teaching for the next 6 months. Being on a summer-camp-like schedule left little time for exercise and too much time for eating.—

After hours of unpacking today I decided to do a bit of laundry and took that opportunity to do my foolproof maneuver to force myself to go for a run; I put on my running clothes while I still had a few more chores to get done. If I take the clothes off without running I have certainly failed, and I don’t like to fail. An hour later I was lacing up my brand new shoes and it was GLORIOUS.

Not only was this a first run in over 7 days, but it was my first run in THAILAND. I could go on and tell you about the ancient Buddhist ruins I wove my way around, I could tell you about all the Thai cyclists I saw and how jealous I was of one guy’s celest colored Bianchi, I could tell you about all the stray dogs along the path or the Thai kids that were chasing them…but really—what I mostly remember is how hot, sticky and humid it was. I mean, 5:30pm should not be that hot. I should not still be dehydrated from it—but when in Thailand, sweat like the Thais. Maybe I’ll get used to it, or maybe I’ll just be drinking a lot more water and learn to ration out my hydration electrolytes!

Chang!

Changchangchang!!!

Oh yeah—I also rode an elephant the other day. Siiiiiick!

Bittersweet Begging

Everything is starting to matter. Every little interaction is taking on the weight of the world and yelling from the rooftops that I’m going to missing out on something, or everything while I’m gone. This has been a fear of mine for years—the idea of missing out.

 

While I’m gone… this is the little phrase that continues to leave me baffled and confused continues to pop out of my mouth. Am I coming back? How long are you THERE, Sloan? I haven’t figured out the perfect answer yet. I’m committed to Thailand for six months, yet after that I have no other life plans. I can do anything for six months was the idea behind not signing on for A YEAR. A YEAR requires huge commitment (commitment is such a dirty little word). If I come back in April I could still get my job back selling shoes, I could still be involved in setting up that race, I could still train for that trail run in July—do I want to COME BACK?

 

Flash forward, or backwards, to yesterday; my second to last day at work. The Pride Parade danced down town and my friend saw me standing from the sidewalk, ran from her float and gave me a huge hug. Flash to Friday: 2.5 hours on the trail with my friend telling me how excited and brave I am, I’m not so sure. Flash to today, this morning, I’m up at 6am going for a run with some amazing ladies followed by a potluck party in the park tonight—all these people are coming to see me off. I’m not so sure.

 

All of the sudden each moment, each person, each little thing this town is offering me is sounding better than getting on a plane and running away to Thailand. It’s bittersweet, beautiful and begging me to stay. Yet if I stay I’ve failed, and do I really want to stay even if it was an option?

 

Then a friend, a previous college professor, a man who I bonded with over miles of road under our Bianchi’s tires every Tuesday evening, a man that left his wife in the US for Paris to study, sent me this:

 

Reminder

And that’s what I’m going to do.