Beneath Samui Skies
Samui has been kind to me these last few weeks, having now been successfully seduced by the islands ambled flow, its windless evenings and extensive strolls along infinite white beaches that always leave me lost in a flume of insignificance. At times I’m forced to stop and just stare in astonishment at the complete magnitude and depth of such verdant surroundings. The rich jungles with their dense foliage that cascade over waves of mountains, watching, observing the tiny ants below them scatter about their daily routine. My writer friend Peter Litchfield who has been living in Thailand for the past two years and I take to the heated roads on our unconvincing mopeds, saddled precariously in our 160 Baht flip-flops as trucks cough out tuffs of grey diesel fumes as they barge and chomp their way past us. We bite back, moving with the pace of traffic we weave in and out of each other, a compliant code of conduct that insists on no cursing, no road rage just swift and agile manoeuvring. Our shirtless bodies pushing against the afternoon breeze, our tinted sunglasses reflecting a world in motion whilst the afternoon sun rests itself warmly against our naked chests.
Riding a motorbike really is the best although maybe not the safest way to get around out here. In a car we always remain watching the world through a screen, omitting us from the true essence of the moment, yet on a bike you look down and see the ground streaming beneath your feet. The people and shops around you remain almost static as you journey past them, giving the impression of thousands of watercolours being smeared recklessly together. The rotten stench of sewers fills your head and causes your nostrils to flare in a mumbled indignation but as you turn the next corner the sweet smell of Pad Thai greets you with that common Thai smile. The red spice of green curry being fried by the frail old lady sings to your appetite, as baby coconuts are pulled from ice buckets and hurled up on to quick palms then accurately hacked four times, lifting the lid to a pool of ice clear water.
The local Thai people seem alien to things such as anger or uproar. Rarely do they show signs of stress or worry, this is not to do so much with that common belief in the West that they simply don’t have any as poverty has a grave face throughout South East Asia, but rather it seems to stem from their overall perspective on life. They maintain a profound calmness that seems to be innately present in the majority of Asian cultures. Conversations amongst people are usually hearty, gentle and respectful, placing the words Kap at the end of every sentence if you’re male or Kah if you’re female. This is seen as the courteous way to conclude a sentence. From the conversations I have had with my friend he has gone on to explain how Thai people in general abstain from being too serious, the language not even being equipped to hold the weight of straight-faced discourse. As with regards to its density from my understanding Thai people look for the shortest and easiest way to communicate, no long sentences or complex grammatical systems, just short tonal words that to the Farang earfirst appear to sing their way around that blank expression we all start off with, then after time cull a response accompanied by Kap or Kah with plenty of smiles.
The days here overall are wonderful. My newly adopted routine is waking up and spending an hour at the local gym. A witty replica of Rocky Balboa’s training haven, with lumps of old iron lay waiting to be lifted beneath pictures of old recognisable bodybuilders that seem to be inflated beyond imagination. They perch themselves above the surrounding mirrors almost to encourage or maybe tease the profusely dripping contenders below them. The sweat saturates everything; your hair, mats, towels and floors become a shiny sea of falling fluid. Once I have exhausted myself I ride under the abundance of long blue skies to the nearest Tesco Lotus to see what food I can grab or alternatively I stop off outside a street stall and pick up some fresh guava fruit, chilled watermelon or sweet pineapple. Then I leave the rest of the day up to fate. Either I work on some writing, read a poem by the ocean or ride my bike into the wonder of infinity.
12/05/10
Koh Samui
