Ton Sai

My first Thai friend was a cat, a cat with a stumpy tail- related , I am sure, to the millions of other stumpy-tailed cats on this beach. I had just arrived after an all-night bus from Bangkok and an early morning boat ride from nearby Ao Nang. My first order of business was to figure out how to flush the toilet. The answer, I was sure, lay in the large black bucket turned upside down under the pipe-less sink. I righted the bucket to discover a spider the size of a soccer ball (ok, maybe a ping-pong ball). I stepped outside to contimplate my options, and this little calico waltzed right by me and jumped into my bed. I grabbed the cat and threw her into the bathroom, thinking she might enjoy a crunchy snack, but she looked at me like I was crazy and went slinking past me out the door, rubbing the entire length of her lean side against my led as whe wnt. So I followed her out, and sat watching the day grow lighter throught the trees. I thought about the large arachnid laying in wait in my bucket, and then I thought, "so what, this is Thailand." Several hours later I returned to the bathroom to find that my eight-legged invador had vacated the premesis. I never saw the cat agian, though I did see the spider several days later when it fell dead from my ceiling. How long do spiders live anyway? I could only guess that the thing died of fright after being pummeled by a thirty -pound moth that careened through my door that night, flinging itself suididally against everything in the bungalow. They do call these bungalows the "Nature Reserve," after all. A point which was driven home today when I descovered yet another creature ian my bucket. A rather irate newt (or salimander?) glared up at me when I returned from climbing today. When I set it free in the afternoon rain I descovered what I think are newt eggs in the bottom of the bucket. I am waiting to see if they hatch. The only other animals around here seem to be monkeys, and some long tailed thing that looks like a cross between a mongoose and a racoon (a moncoon?) Yesturday I recieved a shove from a monkey. It had plunked itself down right nest to me on a railing, and even leaned into me a bit. I couldn't resist, I reached over and gave its furry head a little scratch. That was NOT what it wanted, and it let me know.

I haven't really learned any Thai yet. My book is little help. I looked up the usual phrases, but right under, "how much does this cost?" is the phrase, "your notes are very flimsey." Now why would you need to know that, ever? I have learned a little Irish from my friend Roy. He doesn't seem to have nearly as much trouble understanding me, but we were just beginning to get over the language barrier by hiking climbing and kayaking together when he took off for the border, forcing me to look for new adventurouis companions.

This is a multi-cultural community. People from all over the world come to climb, and enjoy the sun and scenery. My favorite beach faces out towards a group of islands. the closer ones are rocky outcroppings with stalagtite skirts reaching out over the waves, and the farther islands are strung together by white sand beaches. I don't think I ever saw a stalagtite before I came here. Certainly nothing like these. I float on my back and catch the droplets that hurtle down from their tips.

Every night is a party here. They hand out fliers on the beach, "big party, lots of dancing." but the travelers are so wiped out after a day of adventure that they just sit, like china dolls on their woven mats, watching the fire spinners and fireworks. The other night a bucket full of fireworks tipped over sending the rockets straight into our faces. We rolled out of our seats covering our heads. Miraculously, noone was hurt.

I like the nighttime, after the mosquitos have given up their frantic feeding. I like the fishernen's lights in the distance, and I like the hurd of long-tail boats nosing at the beach, looking like cattle at the edge of the field, the water whispering at their sides, their engines dead for the night. I like the fire and the regae music, and the stars overhead. I like slipping up the hill to Bee's "Real coffee," stand for a yogurt shake, and Bee is there singing along to Nora Jones. I've grown used to this place, and I can't decide where to go next. Bee looks over my sholder as I flip through thte Lonely Planet. I ask about one place afer another, and every time his answer is the same. "Too busy." I'll stay a few days more. Bee says, "two days, two weaks." That is how it is here. People come for a day, stay for a year.