Kraaazy Kao San Road

Routine can enrich our lives, bringing great focus and clarity, and can provide the power to manifest the dreams toward which we strive. It is ironic that many travelers use the escape of their routine as one of the major excuses for choosing to travel, whereas I have repeatedly recreated routines in places where I have established myself. Without this virtual anchor, I feel lost drifting in the vast ocean of existence, buffeted around by the crashing waves of chance and circumstance. Across Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and China I drifted for a couple months without purpose or focus, except to keep my eyes open and have fun – both of which I believe I adhered to, though I discovered how such a spontaneous existence created a life where finding a bus or searching for toilet paper could consume a decent percentage of the day. (and as a friend succinctly said “That which we focus on, becomes our god”, so is this what I want to manifest – the god of TP and bus schedules?). In contrast, a focused routine can be filled with many small acts that in aggregate bring a greater sum of happiness and work toward a greater cause.

Thus here I sit, yet again, in another quaint and predictable internet café in Khao San, then world-acclaimed, and Lonely Planet Guidebook approved backpacker ghetto of Bangkok. So how did the last two weeks here magically disappear?



Routine consists of waking at 6am to the sounds and smells drifting up in through my tiny window from the street vendors preparing the charcoal braziers on their little push-carts. I then read or open up my laptop to work on cleaning up the best of the 15,000 images that I’ve taken since April (this is taking MUCH longer than my overly optimistic mind predicted – surprise, surprise). Next, I wander over through the tangled Thanon Rambutri, passing by the vendors with signs boldly stating “WE BUY EVERYTHING” (surrounded by tacky clothing, used shoes, outdated guidebooks, and other nick-nacks that only a budget traveler could figure out how to utilize) -- my destination, after stopping for a bottle of super-freshly-squeezed-OJ, is the “Namaste” yoga studio beckoning like a tranquil oasis in the heart of the smoggy churn. After an hour of stretching, OM-ing, and generally sweating out at least 3 liters onto my mat, I shower, and head upstairs to the 4th floor tiny gym, dodging the anxious but friendly ladies offering a morning Thai massage (for about $3.75 US) with promises of “Maybe!” or “Later!”. Pump some steel while jamming out to MTV Asia – often listening to many back to back US artists as the US music scene is taking over the world – and then take shower #2 of the day before heading out into the blazing sun and sticky air that inevitably require shower #3 happen sometime before climbing into bed. Occasionally I change around the order of the yoga and the weight-lifting, and have yet to decide whether I hit the steel with a calm and relaxed mind, or whether I put the “power” into Power Yoga after angsty rock videos and bench presses. Regardless, it has become an absolutely treasured ritual to then go to the health-food Mecca of May Kaidee’s Vegetarian Restaurant, where Mz. K teaches cooking classes in the morning, often stuffing the students with a plethora of tasty treats, while singing and dancing to silly traditional songs.



After most of the classes I’ve invited one of the yoga-goddesses along for a meal – it has been quite a long time since I’ve been in the dating scene and I do admit that my eyes wander in class…. For all you single guys out there (and I hope I don’t get TOO much stigma and flack for saying this…) you should reeeeeeally consider going to yoga simply to experience being the sole guy in the midst of a sea of athletic and open-minded women stretching in all sorts of impressive postures. The two weeks here have managed to manifest into a lunch-time dates with a couple foxy and interesting lady-friends, even including the instructor Ja – a happy, strong, and interesting Thai lady who I’d secretly been admiring since the first class.



Things did not head down the romantic route as seemed possible from the start, but instead was a wonderful way to get another perspective on the multifoliate jewel of Thailand. Way better to pick up potential dates in yoga than in a smoky bar, yes? PLEASE understand that this is just one of the MANY little joys of devoting yourself to a lifestyle of yoga – for it truly is enriching on so many levels, such as strength, flexibility, relaxed mind, etc etc. Aaaaaaaanyway, back to the story …. ;->

After 2 hours of sweating, and then stuffing my belly to the bursting point, I head back to my tiny room in a quiet back alley near the Chao Phraya river, and attempt to crash out for an hour or two while continuing to pour sweat as the little fan merely circulates the hot and thick air in the blazing oven of my second story room. More delirious than rested (and wishing there was a hammock under a large tree by a lake), I head over to the Phra Thumen park where jugglers abound in droves, throngs, flocks, or pods – chucking, spinning, whirling, and throwing innumerable size, shape, color, and weight of objects into the air.



Jugglers tend to be a social bunch, both from a practical need of wanting to observe and borrow the skills which another talented soul has strove for innumerable hours to master, and also from the desire to interact with other kindred spirits of the same bizarre, fringe, fun, wacky, upbeat, and generally ostracized personality. So we all stick together. Over the last two weeks I’ve picked up a whole host of new poi moves, while also getting back into club juggling, playing with my yo-yo, astro jax, and now have a long list of other toys to pick up some day.



Later in the evening, after the 6pm daily airing of the Thai National Anthem has welcomed in the transition of the light wherein jugglers find it more challenging to catch the fast moving and dimly lit objects (be they balls, clubs, or large juggling knives), a different crowd of performers take over the limelight – a group of strong, flexible, and focused break-dancers as committed as the juggling posse. These guys are incredible! Handstands, back bend walkovers, funky balancing postures, and generally impressive dancing to the beats of Thai hip-hop. One of the guys, a friendly fellow named Gof who welcomed me in and offered to teach me some moves, pulls a helmet out of his bag – “oh oh” and here he goes, gracefully and powerfully pulling off a whirl of head spins. I’ve come to realize that one perfect synthesis of yoga and weight training is this crazy artform, and plan to search out other breakdancers along the travels and learn another trick to pull out of my magic hat.

Having made so many friends, I somewhat reluctantly purchased the bus and boat ticket to the jungley island party/dive Mecca of Ko Pha Ngan, consoling myself with the knowledge that most of this crew will still be here when I return with a whole bunch of new tricks, and reminding myself that things really are fun and amazing wherever I go since these are the focus and guiding principles of my journey.

Ah well, so the routine comes to a close for now, and transforms to that of packing, moving stuff, sitting in a bus (or plane or boat) for a long period of time, anxiously trying to figure out where the heck I am in the destination city in relation to where I really want to be and trying to avoid all the rip off artists that want to bring me somewhere else, hopefully get there intact, and unpack, crash out, and awake to begin the cycle anew. Things should again stabilize on Ko Pha Ngan and can create a new routine from out of the ashes of the old.