We continued through the park and found a huge Zumba class in an open square. We attempted to join and were welcomed wholeheartedly, but our skills were not up to par. We were so bad that even the teacher began to laugh a bit. But we were trying! And our neighbors did their best to help. Again, another invitation to Zumba from 6-7 am every day. We started - 7 am? But it was already 8. And then we realized that we has gotten up an hour earlier than expected because of the time change. Oops.
We continued on, trying badminton and admiring other tai chi groups (with sticks, swords, and matching outfits)
All in all, quite a lovely run, and a great introduction to Thai hospitality. I love how alive everything here feels, and how active the Thai people are. This park had a workout section with outdoor equipment, too. So cool!
After breakfast, I headed to the Vietnamese embassy to get my visa while my companions headed to an appointment with the Rockefeller Foundation to learn about urban planning initiatives in the city. Both of us were quite successful and learned a lot in the process, from how to use the sky train (me) to the availability of housing for the city's poor (them).
Reunited, we headed to Wat Pho via a boat, watching the beautiful, temple-lined river pass by. Wat Pho was gorgeous, with incredible detail on every surface. No roof was too elaborate, no pattern or statue too ornate or complicated. We met a British man who claimed that the series of Chinese statues had been used a ballast by the Thai during their turn trips from trading with the Chinese, and that one of the statues is of Marco Polo. It all sounded a bit far-fetched to us, but I like places that inspire such creative explanations.
The main attraction of Wat Pho is the Reclining Buddha, a 46-meter gold leaf-covered marvel with a serene and slightly cheeky smile on his face and mother of pearl patterns decorating the soles of his enormous feet. One long wall has small brass buckets lining its length, and people would drop a penny in each one as they passed, causing a pleasant clink-clink-clink to echo throughout the hall. It was as though all my senses were on high alert, and I couldn't help but be aware of every noise, of every glint and shadow on the Buddha, of the cool, smooth stone beneath my bare feet. I loved it. Speaking of sensory overload, Wat Pho is also home to a famous Thai massage school. We all indulged in a full-body massage. I had heard it would be hard to the point of pain, but experienced no such thing. I wish they would have spent more time on my back and shoulders but boy did I leave that place mellow, sipping dutifully at the little cup of Malta nut juice that they had given me after the massage. Chris was next to me for the massage and I think that both of us were practically purring at one point.
Chris and I then split off from the group to attend to other business. He was meeting up with the lovely Whim'N'Rhythm, Yale's female senior a Capella group, on their last day in Bangkok while I was off to pick up my visa from the embassy. Given how slow the boat moved, we decided to take a taxi for the few miles to the sky train station. But then we got stuck in traffic. Even though we had budgeted over an hour to get to our destinations, we couldn't make it those few miles in time. The embassy closed at 4:30, and I desperately began to call but nobody picked up. If I didn't make it, my passport would be locked in the embassy all weekend and my trip to Chiang Mai would have to be delayed. I was nearly hysterical as one hour, then one hour and a half passed by. We finally made it to the station at around 4:40, jumped on the first train, and (in my case) hyperventilated. When we got to my stop, I sprinted off the train with Chris shouting encouragement a and bolted down the street. People cleared a path for me, bewildered by the charging blonde girl. I made it to the embassy at 4:50, 20 minutes after they has closed, i pounded on the gate and rang the bell again and again. Finally, the gate to the complex opened and I ran inside, only to be escorted out by security. They unlocked the door to the visa office and as luck would have it the workers were just about to leave. They got me my passport and I left spouting thanks and running on sheer adrenaline. Chris made it in time to see Whim, too. It's lovely how things work out like that.
We met up at Wat Ratchanaddaram after our afternoons apart. I found the two brothers sketching the temples in the fading light. We played hide and go seek to the soundtrack of Buddhist prayers and watched the lights go on, illuminating the Buddhas. As we left, we found this wonderful scene: a power-washing monk, scrubbing the place clean for a new day.
For dinner, we went to what David and Nick had been told was the best pad Thai place around. It was packed and everything looked delicious. We ordered - one regular for me and three supremes for the boys - and read about the history of pad Thai in our menus. Apparently it was created after WWII and became an instant hit. While talking to the Thai couple next to us, who comes every week with their children, we got tips on how best to prepare our pad Thai: a dash of fresh lime juice, a sprinkle of peanuts, and you're ready. The original, which is what I got, was delicious. I lied on bean sprouts and peanuts, dousing the whole thing in lime, and was in heaven. The boys loved their dishes too: the noodles were stained pink with shrimp oil and a thin wrapper of egg was stretched over the top of the whole dish.
Stuffed and happy, we made plans to wander back to the water for a final boat ride. On the way, we passed a band by the side of the road, relaxing and jamming in the evening heat. I asked if they had any American song and thus began our night of karaoke. I started out with Hotel California, then we switched to Happy Birthday to celebrate our two birthday boys (Chris and Nick), and then the boys wrapped up with Take Me Home Country Road. We has so much fun with the band - the contented confidential guitarist, the lean rock-star drummer who was surprisingly shy, the other band members that we displaced so we could crowd around the mic, and our lovely audience sipping beers at the nearby picnic table.
We resumed our walk to the water, ducking into residential areas rather than retracing the busy main arteries. The people we passed were so friendly, calling out to us and laughing with us at our language barriers. Some of the houses were made in the beautiful Thai teak style, while others were no more than shacks. Quite by accident, we stumbled upon a night market. Crowded stalls sold everything from food to iPhone covers to giant padlocks. We even found a stall that sold crickets, mealworms, and flies, cooked up for adventurous customers. The guy didn't appear to have any cooking set-up with him, though, so we wondered how long they has been sitting out. We weren't sure how fast bacteria grows on bugs.
The night market opened up on to a large field next to the Grand Palace. The field had become a tent city, with people living in lean-tos, back of cars, and the like. Stalls set up by monks lined the central walkway. While the policeman we asked was evasive, we later found out that these are all protesters of one kind or another. Sadly, we can't read Thai and never figured out what their causes were.
At last we reached the pier, just before ten o'clock when the boats stop running. We had no idea if one would be passing our way or if our stop had already closed for the night, but still we waited out on the dock, rolling with the waves as we sat on benches overlooking the river. And sure enough, the last boat arrived and we climbed on. Temples glittered on the water, contrasting the run-down homes on the other side.
Bangkok is definitely a study in contrasts.
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