Thailand: A Paradox, A Paradox...

Bangkok

I slowly reach to turn on the bedside lamp and read the clock squinting against the light. 5:30am. The cool morning vanishes rapidly in Bangkok, so I decide to get up against my instinct to stay put. I turn off the egregious A/C and slide open the deck door. Dawn is breaking over my little Thai world, my little soi in a modest neighborhood where everyone is stirring but there is no sound except a bird literally whistling in the bamboo beyond.

I put on a cotton shift, slide on my sandals and walk the four flights to the Rio desk where the night clerk, a young Thai man, is chatting loudly with the equally young Thai day clerk ( new, hired away from the 7-11 just weeks ago ). I pass the night guard, an older Thai man, his blue uniform looking surprisingly crisp after an all night shift, and head down Soi 6. It's a half block to the corner but I smile every time I walk it. In the morning, there are tables set up for breakfast and lunch against the far wall. After dusk, on that same spot, the garbage truck parks and local residents cart their trash in large wicker trash bins to be dumped against the same far wall where under blue flourescent light, the garbage workers sort all the trash, separating out recyclables and god know what else.

I look up to see the full moon not quite ready to set in the west, it's light soft against the sky. I am after yogurt for my breakfast. And, as one of the many paradoxes in Thailand, I have a 7-11 around the corner. Inside, the music is blaring but the A/C feels so good that I factor it out of my mind. I get a English language Bangkok Post ( no International Herald Tribune to be certain ) so that my monks can read from it aloud today in class to practice comprehension and diction.

I take the long way back home, down the main road sidewalk. The shopkeepers are setting up for the day: soda of all colors in glass bottles being iced for the increasingly summerlike days; preparing congee, a Thai breakfast of rice and milk and chicken balls flavored with ginger, a little bit of peppers and several condiments I don't understand yet for workers who will walk down this street on their way to work; lining up fruits of all kinds--dragonfruit, papaya, mango, tangerines, oranges, bunches of thumb-sized bananas. The street isn't noisy with traffic yet--no motorbike roars or tuk-tuk sputters. Not yet. It is one of my favorite times of day.

Back in my little studio, I prepare my oatmeal and yogurt adorned with a lone mini banana and sit down on my deck to watch the sun rise over the city.

I watched the same sun rise in Hua Hin just two days ago. The scenery is different. There are no cocoanut palms in Soi 6. Not a one. But I'm coming to like the city of Bangkok with all of its paradoxes.

The sun is fully up now. Time to prepare for my monks. Class begins at 9a.m.

Good evening to the West. Namaste.
M.C.