M: Let's find lavatory first! I'll be back soon!
Z: Hey, do you think I will play the babysitter for our baggage all the time?! And lets find the right hotel first - all the monsters here look the same. Big, ugly, overcrowded... I would rather risk drowning on a ferry!!
M: Here! Look this is for you!
Z: What is it?
M: I don't know... looks like eatable fruit, doesn't it? I tore it from that tree...
Z: Hmmm.... It smells nice. A bit like raspberry mixed with grapefruit. But are you really sure it is edible?
M: I don't know. it was hanging above my head so I tore it and brought to you! You may take it or throw it, I don't mind... you were complaining about "babysitting"...
Z: Look the tree is full of them and nobody picks them... isnt it a bit suspicious? But thanks anyway - I hope you will give me first aid if needed.
M: ( opening a can) Mmm?
Z: ... ummm delicious. Really delicious.... But no need to pick any more, okay?
M: As you wish. (gulping, then seating himself on Z's bag in the shade of spreading tree and squinting at sun beams filtering through jolly leafage)
I want to talk to you.. tell you something... Btw, you got tanned a bit, have you noticed?
Z:Yeah? Must be the tanning efect of Thai stars. You look even paler than a day before - spare yourself a bit! A bit more relaxed browsing this night!! Not so many pubs...
M: Yes, that's what I gonna talk about...
Z: Listening intently...
M: I am fed up with all that quarrels and fightings... We should do something with it... I think it's becoz of nerves and tiredness. We worried a lot over flight and things, we got tired. We need a rest... I have a plan for the rest of this day and a program for nearest future...
Z: Finally a golden word! I am all for it! No more quarrels, no more chaos, no more stress, peaceful journey to Sawasdee, peaceful checking into the hotel, peaceful beach visit and enjoying the sea. I might even let you to drop to a local bar for a moment... just a short moment...
M: In ten minutes or so we will get to Sawasdee. It will be 4 pm, I think?
Z:Yeah, looks so. I hope I switched my watch to the Thai time correctly...
M: We will check in that lousy Sawasdee. You'll unpack your bags, have a bath if you want and I'll have a short sleep. An hour will be enough.
Z: Up to know it doesnt sound bad (especially if I can unpack your back bag...) What then?
M: Nah, thanks, I'll take it to my room. Then you'll wake me up if i really manage to fall asleep and we will go out. Will have a dinner somewhere in a cosy place, seaside view and things.
Z: Great. I hope JFJ fund is bottomless. And to our worried sponsors I will write about an industrious searching along Pattaya beach, befriending the locals and extracting info from them. To shut the annoyed mouths of the grumblers...
M: Then we'll hire a car and go to some remote beach. Coz Pattaya is a bit too overcrowded, I am afraid... By this time it will get dark, I think, so we will be able to do what we were dreaming about. Starry sky over shining water, yeah?
Z: If it is not only another grand theory which will break into pieces as soon as you step into the cool, welcoming hotel room...
M: And during next two or three days we (searching along Pattaya beach) will reconnoitre local bungalows and move to the best of them... Hm, I hope I will wake up in good humour.
Z: What softened your heart so much? Local beer? The elephants?
M: Is it so important?!
Z: Not at all as long as your determination remains.
M: Ok, pick up your bags and let's go.
Z: Take your turn bagsitting, I am going to inquire if this hotel is the damned Seaweed.
M: Look into your bloody map! It's near city bank we can become a witnesses of robbery if we are lucky enough!
Z: Or committ one ourselves... Any experience in that field?
M: I have covered backs only...
Z: To everything there is the first time once... Bank robbing as well as turning your back on the two welcoming inns flanking the hotel from both sides...
Huge glitzy lobby. Massive rattan chairs, sickly decorative vases overflowing with tropical flowers, life-sized bronze statue of some long-forgotten Thai hero. Crystal chandeliers illuminating every scratch on the bags and every stain on clothing with merciless clarity. Doormen and reception clerks in impeccable uniforms with smiles permanently glued to their faces.
Z: You should inquire about the room. You are the owner of JFJ anyway. Hope they will have some free rooms on the top floors, otherwise our only view would be cars speeding by.
M: Must we start all that again? Extract our passports? Money? What else? Show our pockets? Hands? Ears?
Z: What did you hope for? Flashing your smile and getting everything brought right to your feet? If we settled on the beach, no passports would be neccessary.
M: Ok, what do we need? Two single rooms as high as possible? Aren't you afraid of lifts?
Z: Me?! If they had an outer glass lift, I would be on cloud nine!
M: Hope it won't make me sick...
Z: Well, you can always book a ground room for yourself. But come on, risk it! We should stay high above the petty worries of the rest of humankind...
M: Ok, fill in this form.
Z: For how many nights do we want to stay?
M: Write two, then we will decide.
Z: The bloody pen doesnt work... I only managed to tear the paper. Do you have another one?
M: Aha, I am a moving stationery shop.
Z: And I am used to a bit more modern technology.
M: Here you are. And fill my form then, I'll sign.
Z: Do you usually follow this procedure with paychecks as well? Anyway, how are we going to pay? In cash? By credit card? And before you start that it is manager's problem, let me remind you that you claim to be the sole owner of JFJ fund!
M: Cash!
Z: You carry all the fund with yourself?! You are a walking safebox?
M: Money is my concern OK? What is the task of our journey, btw?
Z: Holidays, of course. Did you expect me to write "top secret mission"? "Spying"? "Saving national treasures"?
M: Legend searching. Ok, pay and get keys please.
Z: Yuck, the banknotes look as if a cow chewed on them and then spilled them out...
M: So what? Will we wait till they get smoothed out?
Z: Luckily the friendly man accepted them - but took them squeamishly into two fingers. Desire for money won over aesthetics. Here are the keys. Sixth floor, rooms 612 and 613. Are you superstitious? Would you mind taking 613?
M: I don't! Now I would agree to sleep in 666
Z: Hmm, they even have a liftboy in golden attire.... terrible place.
M: Yeah, nice child... give him something...
Z: Strange - I gave him a candy and he eyes me acidly as if he just bit a lemon. Ungrateful brat!!
M: Have you given that beer can away?
Z: Of course. Face the dreary reality -- we are in a pub with no beer.
M: I'll check local bar later. BTW there are minibars in rooms...
Z: Now I can understand your fondness of this lousy den... So here we are. Your room, my room. I will come to wake you up in an hour.
M: Where is the air condition remote? Huh, a bed, finally... (throwing himself on longed-for piece of furniture)
Z: You dont expect me to serve you from the bar, I hope? No remote for pouring drinks, sorry.
M: If you would be so kind...
Z: I would be as kind as to close the door behind you so that you dont have to leave your cozy bed. But that is the limit of my kindness. Happy remote-searching!
M: OK! Thanks! Leave me my key! See you in an hour!
Z: I will better keep the key, okay?
M: Nah! You want to lock me here???
Z: Of course not. I just dont want to find you locked and ask the spoiled lift-brat to kick the door out for me!!
M: Well it's rediculous, give me keys and leave me alone, I am too tired for all that shite.
Z: Either promise not to drink, or not to lock. Generous choice.
M: Funny, I have drinks inside! Empty my bar first! But I will not drink, I want to sleep a bit and the sooner you leave me, the better rest I'll have.
Z: Okay. Promise on the Book (i.e. Drink With Shane) that you wont drink (too much) and wont lock, and I am giving you the key and a peaceful rest.
M: Ok, wher is the remote?
Z: I am puting it right next to the TV. Have sweet dreams!
M: Chao!
I returned in an hour but a timid knock at the door yielded no response. A more insistent knock was met with a dull thump of something hitting the door from the opposite side (it could have been The Book, but taking into consideration the respect with which it is usually treated, I assume it was the Pattaya telephone directory). Not willing to waste any more time talking to flying stationery, I merrily departed to bask in the warmth of Thai sun and to perform a bit more effective Shane-search. A flying visit I paid to the two nearby inns brought amazing findings.
Soi Honey Inn serves a speciality of the house called Hot Dogs With Everything. „Hot Dogs“ are chunks of something unidentifiable (the small Pekinese with a pink ribbon dozing contentedly on the bar dispelled my worst suspicions) served with beetroot and decorated with sweet pea. „Everything“ is officially a mixture of Singha Beer and Mekong Whiskey, but a waitress bribed with that detested Danielle Steel novel confided to me that it’s in fact a hotchpotch of everything the guests leave in their glasses, cups and bottles.
Soi Diana Inn can be proud of its highly bizarre regular. The tiny Thai man spends all the days sitting in the corner, sipping pure water from his glass, drawing pics of sheep on scrapes of paper and from time to time emitting heartrending shouts of „som-ya-tzu!“, occasionally peppered with „take my hand and dry your tears, babe!“ Some believe it is the aftereffect of an extremely serious case of Hong Kong Flu, others brush the matter away, saying that he’s just a wally hanging out on Pattaya Beach. But neither of those theories explains the grubby napking with a logo of Boogaloo pub and the word „taoiseach“ scribbled onto it, which the oddball treasures like a 100 carat diamond...
*********
Day 4
Morning glory
Late morn, bright and noisy. As approaching to the room #613, birds' screams and cars' honks are getting surpassed with sounds of music and Thai. Deep breath and brave step in (the door is ajar anyway). Even here the sun wins over darkness, in spite of traditionally drawn curtains. Motes perform their usual dance in beams splitting the warm twilight. M - mostly dressed - sits on the bed surrounded with motley garbage which possibly adumbrates the contest of his concurrent bag - books, CDs, papers, beer mats... He doesn't make any move that could be interpreted as Z's arrival (welcome or not) was noticed. M is staring blankly at whirpool of colours at TV screen (maybe attracted cupla minutes ago, maybe watching this Thai programme for cupla hours). Does he hear the obtrusive sound or listen to something inside, accessible only to him...
Z: Good morning?
The question is lost in the fireworks of sound an movement erupting from the screen and filling every corner, crevice and cranny of the room.
Z: (louder, with a slightest tinge of irriration tainting her civil tone) Good morning! Could you please switch off the TV?
No reply. Z hesitates just for a moment, then takes a step toward the television... and stops upon realizing that she lacks the crucial instrument for making an end to this predicament which resembles talking to a brick wall. She surveyes the room methodically, squinting in the half-light, but no signs of the remote control anywhere. She bends to pick up a blue pen from the floor, fidgets with it absent-mindedly for a moment, staining her fingers with dark ink that dribbles from it like drops of Thai midnight. She puts the cap on and dismisses the pen; it takes place among books and papers on the bed, getting lost in the folds of coverlet. She opens her mouth to repeat her request, then closes it shut firmly again, steps toward the offending television and pulls the plug.
Sudden silence reigns and another source of much fainter noise makes itself felt: CD player lying on bedside table, earphones hung down, almost reaching the ashtray on the floor. Dove-coloured current rises from it, rings of smoke interlace in arabesque - ghostly and grace - round wires and disappear elusively beneath straw pic with bamboo and two gold fishes...
Z: (breaking the muted hum) Good morning.
M: (continuing to stare at the dark grey screen of the turned-off TV): ... you locked me in my room (uttered in a pensive tone like the rustle of last year's leaves... or the jingle of empty beer can driven with wind along endless blocks of tenements)
Z: Ehm, what? Locked?
M: You didn't want to go out with me - that is the explanation.
Z: Of course, I did. Golden beach, shiny stars, roaring sea. Since you refused, I had no other choice then to perform boring work instead.
M: Nah! You left me sleeping and escaped to seedy Pattaya.
Z: No, the phone book lying crumpled on the floor next to your door spoke about the incident more than clearly.
M: It means I was right! You placed book outside my door to vindicate yourself!
Z: Who said...
M: But it was a silly vindication as I was supposed to throw it from inside and the door was supposed to be closed, yeah?
Z: .... it was outside? It lay below the cofee table in your room. And how do I know? Well, I peeped into your room on my way back from the pubs. It wasnt locked...
M: They cleaned my room since that.
Z: In the middle of the night when I was going back? Hardly - they cleaned it in the morning. I met the cleaning woman in the corridor.
M: Why didn't you peep in on your way to pubs???
Z: Because of undentified flying objects.
M: If I was sleeping, I could not throw it! If I was not sleeping why would I throw it????
Z: Elementary, my dear: My knock woke you up. You were angry. You grabbed the first thing that was at hand. You threw it at the intruder. And went to sleep again.
M: Aha! And they clean in the morning, you met the woman in the morning, so you were absent all night long! I wanted to go out with you! I fell asleep dreaming about it!
Z: I returned in the dead of night. Peeped inside. Went to sleep but awoke early in the morning (another heroic deed). Went for breakfast, met the woman. Clear?
M: And you want to say I could throw a book or something? I didn't take off boots even! Trying to be ready as soon as you would come to me!
Z: Oh, my heart breaks.... Especially with the thought you could have thrown a smelly boot at me.
M: They were on me! And I can't understand why you peeped in my room?
Z: Why? To check if the effort of book throwing didnt kill you.
M: Nah! You spied on me!
Z: Well, I am supposed to spy in Thailand, am I not?
M: ON ME?
Z: Let's call it a bit of training.
M: You left me on my own there, in a strange hotel, in unknown country, everybody could come in... The rest I don't want to imagine even...
Z: I left you in a comfortable bed, with a caring (English-speaking!) staff all around, enjoying a bit of privacy. The consequences could have been only peaceful rest and sweet dreams.
M: They could have added something in my drinks... or put under my cover...
Z: Paranoia is surely a good qualification for a spy, but everything has its limits. What is biting you? You are alive, arent you? And the beach and sea are still there.
M: You deprived me of romantic evening!
Z: But bestowed you with more sleep than you ever had in your life!
M: You were hanging in pubs without me... And I was sitting in my room alone...
Z: No worries, I havent drunk them dry. I limited myself to fresh banana juice.... Did you say sitting?! SITTING?! Your vocabulary regarding postures is a bit mixed up.
M: Yes, sitting! Sitting and crying... Coz you deserted me. Touch my pillow, touch the carpet by my bed - they are still wet with tears!
Z: How come the cleaning woman didnt change them?
M: Becoz she didn't touch them! She removed the ashtray, aired the room... and flied away.
Z: And I flied in, so be merry, my friend, be merry.
M: She was singing something... picking flowers and dragons...
Z: Of course - she was singing about sweet flowers to survive the cigarette and booze smell, and she was singing about beasts because that was the sight that greeted her inside.
M: I don't remember what she was singing about, it was in Thai, I think.
Z: So was it you picking the flowers? From the vase?
M: Nah! She was! From the carpet in front of TV
Z: And leading a dragon on a dog leash?
M: Nah! The picked them too! Little snakes- like creatures! And composed a bouquet...
Z: Snake bouquet? Cool! So you were throwing flowers at me as well? Oh no, presenting them to me as a gift by way of throwing...
M: I didn't throw anything at you! I would not throw something to a pub... Flowers were in the morning.
Z: Ehm, how did they end up on the carpet then?
M: Who?
Z: "Who"? Personalized flowers?
M: Flowers?! They were growing there.
Z: Oh, I see. Your carpet is a flower bed, your ceiling the bluest sky...
M: I can't say nothing about sky, I don't remember.
Z: Okay, now I believe you were sitting all night long. And take my comments about a long, healthy sleep back...(but her sentence gets interrupted in the middle)
M:
I dream that a pain in my heart at last stopped
My heart is a bell of porcelain in yellow China
On colourful pagoda hangs and soft chime it drops
Enamel blue sky and lost souls in crane flocks exciting
And elegant maiden in robe of luxurious silk
Embroidered in gold there're hornets and flowers and dragons
She - crossed-legged and thoughtless and so inexpressibly meek -
Attentively listen to quiet and careless clangings
As the quiet and careless clanging of the imaginary bell mingles with the sharp and merry clanging of the cups and teapots being brought to the hotel guests, Z turns away and strolls out of the room silently, in search of hot, dark-brown brew to bring her companion from flowery fields and soaring pagoda tops back to dull solid ground.
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
© MacRua, Zuzana, 2005
photos © unknown
