So, a lot has happened and, really, life has just happened. But, there are a few stories that I wish to share with y'all.
Story #1: My introduction to muay thai fighting occurred a few days ago from a man by the name of Ning Nong (he made sure we didn't call him Ding Dong). This man has become a friend (? sort've) ever since Frida (friend who stayed at the Juniper Tree for almost three weeks) and I visited his coconut bar. His restaurant is really just his home's patio, but it is so well groomed with thatch-roofed tables, hammocks, hand-shaped bonsai trees and stepping stones over seashells instead of gravel. We rode our bikes about 30 minutes down our rode until we turned on a dirt road and headed to his home. As we drew near to his house, he met us at the entryway and immediately welcomed us in broken English. He brought a fan out to keep the mosquitoes off of us. However, within a minute, we found out he had not retrieved any coconuts that day, the real reason we had ventured to his restaurant. We had already eaten dinner, but despite our refusals, he sliced open some dragon fruit for us to eat. After getting the full tour of his grounds, including his herb garden, his fish pond, and his simple, outdoor kitchen, we told him we would be back when we were hungry and he walked us out to the road.
Four days later, when we didn't have scheduled dinner at the Juniper Tree, we returned to Ning Nong's place for dinner. As we rode our bikes up his dirt road, he could see us coming and ran to the entryway of his patio. Once again we were welcomed with drinks (this time he had coconuts), a simple menu, and a lot of smiles. We ate fresh squid he barbecued on the grill, an American-style salad, fried rice with chicken, and more dragon fruit. During the meal, he and his son sat at our table and began chatting with us about how his wife has left him four years prior and how he had built his entire house by hand. We found out he was a muay thai teacher, and thus began, my training. Before he began teaching me how to kick people, two times he had said I was too full to begin practice by looking at my stomach. After the second time, I assured him my belly was not going anywhere and we could begin now. "You have no six pack! You have no six pack!" The lesson was quick and utterly embarrassing. It wasn't just that there was a major language barrier, there was a cultural barrier that involved "Am I allow to kick this man and let him kick me?!? Should he be putting me in a headlock?!" The whole time I was laughing out loud at the audacity of the whole thing and Frida caught this on tape. After the lesson, he insisted that we stay until the moon was high in the sky because the shells on his ground would shine white bright and it would be beautiful, which it was.
Finally, we began to leave and as we are pulling out, he jumps on the back of Frida's bicycle. I am about 20m ahead and hysterically laughing and trying to see what is going on behind me. When we reach the main road he jumps off and shouts "Bye Bye! Safety First." Frida and I ride alone down the main road back to the Juniper Tree with the moon lighting up the entire way. The sea on our left, the mountains on our right. It was amazing! Then, as we start to near the part of our bay with the commercial resorts, we notice a headlight behind us that is slowing down. Then suddenly, I hear a growl/shout and Ning Nong appears in the darkness behind us creeping up on the back of my bicycle. I almost fell over! He slowly rides with us for awhile before peeling off and returning home. Let's just say I will not be returning for more muay thai lessons by myself!
Story #2: Sunday nights at the Juniper Tree are super chill. The place is practically deserted. No dinner is served, so everyone goes out to eat. Frida and I wanted to eat at our favorite place in our bay, Dao's (that was the name of the old cook and also the only word in English on the sign). As we begin walking down the main road, it starts to trickle, then rain, then pour, and we start running. After about 200m, we realize there is no way we were going to make it to Dao's, so we stop at Chomtalay, a nicer sit-down open-aired restaurant for dinner. [Side note: We passed a really elegant Thai wedding reception that was being rained out. It was so sad because all the guests were huddled in a resort courtyard looking out at what was going to be a beautiful dinner under the stars. Point: Always rent a tent if you are going to have an outdoor dinner in Thailand during rainy season. Point: On our way home, we saw all the servers conveyor-belting food from the beach to the new setting under the resort's covered courtyard. Everyone was wet, cramped, eating, and very happy. Back to my story...] Chomtalay is packed because everyone wants out of the rain. Our server comes maybe 15 minutes after we have been seated to take our drink order. We eventually order, eat, and when it comes time to pay, a different server brings over our check. She then waits for me to get my money out, slip the bills into the folder, and let her get my change. When I slip my one bill into the folder, she opens it and begins to turn to walk away, then stops. She looks at me and says something in Thai that I don't understand, but I reply with something to the effect of "Isn't 500 baht enough?" I wait until she says something in Thai again and I reply again with "500 baht?" She is getting frustrated/embarrassed, so she goes off to find another server that can speak a little more English. While she is gone, I turn to Frida and say "Does she want a tip?!" When the girl returns, her friend opens the folder and shows me the bill I have inserted in it. It is 50 baht. Basically, I gave her less than $2 for both Frida and I's drinks, dessert, and entrees, instead of the $17 I thought I gave. In my defense, the 50 baht bill is blue and the 500 is blue-purple, but still, it was a very embarrassing moment for me. Frida and I, and most of the servers, and even some other patrons were laughing hysterically at my mistake. I apologized profusely to the girl and we left promptly.
See, this is the thing about living in a small, tourist beach town: it's not that big and word travels. Also, there are only so many restaurants to eat at. So, about five days later, Frida and I are returned from Ning Nong's house (the above story) and decide we want dessert. We stop at Chomtalay and the same girl seats us! I hear her whisper to another server in Thai "ha sip baht", which means 50 baht, and I immediately start laughing as I sit down. I tell Frida what she said and then we both laugh. When she comes back to take our order, I apologize again and all the servers start laughing. Needless to say, I have become the "50-baht girl" to some of Dolphin Bay.
Story #3: When I first came over to Dolphin Bay, I had really no idea that we would be as isolated from civilization as we are. It's about 20 minutes to the grocery store and an hour to a mall. While that might not sound super terrible to most of the world who lives even further from civilization or doesn't enjoy civilization, to me, it is far. The roads to get to such places are country roads, with dogs, and children, and potholes filling them. It's the country, so when it gets dark, it gets really dark.
I brought an international driving permit with me, thinking I would never use it. However, to my shock, I have to drive to get anywhere, either by car or motorbike. My first time on a motorbike was terrifying. Going with Frida, queen of adventure, didn't help. But, by the 5th or 6th kilometer, I was getting the hang of it. (I am still terrible at turning and think I'm going to die every time. If you have ever witnessed me ride a bike, you understand.) Driving a car, on the other hand, is easier for me. It didn't take really anytime at all to learn to drive on the opposite side of the road and on the opposite side of the car. Well, I didn't really have time to piddle around when I was thrust in the driver's seat my first week in Thailand. The hardest part of driving on the "highway", a one lane road leading to the big city, is passing other cars/motorbikes/pedestrians/dogs/mobile food carts/anything else that moves and decides the highway is a good place to light. One must pass these things about every kilometer of driving and I just don't have the Thai gumption yet. I do it, cause I have to, but it is definitely not second nature to me.
Frida and I finally drove the hour to the big city and when I went to pull into the parking garage to park at the mall, I was following a motorbike. Not seeing the sign that read "Motorbikes Keep Left", I followed it past the guard gate. A woman was shouting at me in Thai for a while as I sped by the ticket station and Frida was shouting at me "Summer! You just passed right through the ticket station!!" Oops. So, I went all the way around to the exit, made two U-turns on the highway and entered again. Let's just say the Thai lady didn't give me the most "welcome to Thailand, I'm so glad you are here" face.
Filling up for gas is fun too, when you can't speak the language. They fill it up and you just tell them how much you want to pay. Sounds easy enough until some 14-year old starts overfilling your tank and spilling gasoline all over the ground until it makes a puddle and a large hole in my wallet .
All of these stories are fun things that I can look back on and laugh, a lot. They remind me that I am not Thai. I am a foreigner, and I am really thankful to be in such a forgiving environment with such joyful people. Until the next time I make a fool of myself...
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