Bangkok: Being Led
My first day in Bangkok plays in my mind like a movie scene. And I’m both impressed and confused at my aptitude in getting around, even more so in the way I went from a state of total fear to release, to uninhibited. Within two hours of arriving in Thailand, I was sitting on the wooden boat seats of the ferries on the Chao Phraya River, the easiest and cheapest way to travel to the Grand Palace. I hid in the corner amongst traveling strangers overcome with tears, not so much by the beauty of the river and the temples along the way (though they were beautiful), but by the fact that this was a main form of transport for these people, that I was only a speck in their reality, that I was alone and not lonely, that I was bursting with excitement and eagerness and desire — so many feelings that I’d forgotten.
I spent hours walking through the grounds of the palace, the surrounding shops and markets, the blocks of temple after temple and streets full of armies of guards and passport checkpoints. This place was sacred. They were not about to let the insane amount of tourists mess it up. Thank God. Because it was crawling with people. I mean, you were shoving your way through bodies with each step. But I was too enthusiastic to mind, too enthralled by the doors that led inside the sanctuaries, where you’d find Westerners staring in confusion and awe, and Thai men and women and children on their knees, feet pointed away from the Buddha, foreheads to the ground, silent in the midst of the chaos.
I took a seat in an area where foreigners were allowed to pray (the temples were typically segregated: Thai here, others off to the side), and tried to appreciate what I was witnessing, knowing that I didn’t, that I couldn’t really, but soaking in their faith, anyway. I walked through as many as I could. But after five miles, I was sunburned and my clothes were soaked through with sweat. As I drug myself back to the river, I passed through one of the guard stations and couldn’t find my passport anywhere. Picture a red, sweaty tourist fumbling through her bag with the same elephant-patterned sarong covering her legs to tour the temples as the last six women. He asked me where I was from, if I was traveling alone, and told me to pass, smiling at me and side-eying his comrades to make sure they didn’t notice, a true testament to how much of a mess I was.
Just 3 things I learned that day:
- Google is not necessary for every move you make (asking real people works just as well in getting around; they are so willing to help).
- Bangkok has absolutely the best street food in the world. In fact, I think this is on another list on the internet somewhere, but I’m vouching for it again here.
- Jet lag is real. All plans I had for Koh San Road that evening were dismissed when I passed out in all of my clothes at 7:30 at night.
At 3:30 in the morning I woke up ready for my day, and there was no going back to sleep. My laptop was still open from trying to book my flight to Chiang Mai the night before, but my card hadn’t been working no matter how many times I tried. I’d even tried my mom’s card in a panic, but that wouldn’t go through either. When I looked again that morning, there were no flights available. All of this should have been my first sign. But in an hour or so with some help, I found a flight and reserved a hostel. I’d be leaving Bangkok in a few hours, and my heart felt heavy already.
About 30 minutes before I planned to leave the hostel and trek to the airport, a woman I’d met briefly the night before came downstairs and told me about a huge mall she found, agreeing to take me. I only had about 30 minutes to make it across the city on the BTS to a bus to the airport. So with all my stuff, we rushed there (meaning we walked literally 1-minute away) where this spectacular mall was nestled, and I hadn’t even noticed it. I began to realize how much of Bangkok was hiding in plain sight, waiting for me to discover it.
June rushed to the BTS with me, and I was sad to see her go when she got off at her stop and I kept going to Mo Chit. She was a photographer staying in Bangkok for work, and one of the sweetest and friendliest women I’d ever met. She was also the first person I’d had an out-loud conversation with since I’d left the States, and I realized for the first time that I was longing for that, realized in her absence how much I enjoyed her company. There was this tugging in my gut telling me to stay in Bangkok, and it was growing with each passing train stop. The closer I got to my destination, the more I tried to push it aside.
I arrived at the Mo Chit platform with 15 minutes to spare, and the first thing I saw over the railing was a massive lake and miles of park. In the midst of such a crowded, urban city, it was shocking. It was perfection. I’m sure I actually gasped. I sat down on the side of the train station and ripped out my laptop, trying to find WiFi to see if I could change my flight. The connection was spotty and I knew I had to make a decision, or I’d never make it to the airport in time.
I kept thinking about something my niece, Kelsie, had told me before I left… “If you feel a pulling to go somewhere in Thailand or to stay somewhere longer, go against your plans and do it.” (Sidenote: go go go read all about her solo-trip that inspired my own at lifeinleaps.com). I knew that this was exactly what she was talking about. I did not want to leave Bangkok yet. The city that I entered had changed. No, I had changed already. What had appeared frantic and terrifying now looked like a metropolitan paradise. Ahh, our perception. So I texted her, and she said she knew exactly what I meant. She said forget the flight, you can’t change it now. Forget the $50. Stay.
With my 12 lb. book bag on my back and my smaller bag across my front, I started down the steps towards the park, conveniently right next to the parked bus that would take me to the airport. The man at the counter said it would be about a 20-minute ride, so I still had time to make it… “It’s leaving right now,” he said. I had to decide then.
I walked into the park and I started to pray. I didn’t know what to do. I asked for a sign, for some small spark of intuition that would give me an answer. I stood in the entrance of the park, looking forward into the green trees, then back at the airport bus, knowing in my heart that I wanted to stay in Bangkok, stay in the park, but fighting with my head, the rational part of my mind telling me that it was insane to just bail on my flight and my hostel and stay. You already paid for it. There are other places to see. You don’t even have a room for tonight.
In about 3 minutes, I looked up and saw two backpackers, their pounds and pounds of stuff, their carry-ons, and their flight pillows, walking into the park from behind me. They looked like they’d just made the same decision I was pondering.
I turned around, and saw that the bus was leaving.
I smiled to myself. I was staying. And I was relieved.
Let your faith be strong. Your faith will keep you going in those moments in between steps. When your faith is strong, you don’t look in fear at the journey ahead, wondering if you will get all the guidance you need, or if you will get to where you’re going. You know you will, so you take the simple steps, one at a time, that lie ahead. You take them in joy, because you know you’re being guided. You have faith that the simple steps you are led to do will take you to your destination. You are being led, each step of the
way.-Melody Beattie
One of my favorite days of the entire trip was that day in the park. I paddled a duck boat down the lake with my packs riding shotgun, and got one-too-many stares from locals. I walked through the strangest obstacle courses and out-door gyms and playground set-ups that I’d ever seen, exploring every single one. I sweated my ass off carrying around every thing I owned, and then I finally settled down on a muddy bank between two trees, my yoga mat the perfect blanket and wrote.
That night I went back to the same hostel, spent my evening with June, and found the most badass night market to explore. I knew whole-heartedly that I’d made the right decision and was exactly where I was supposed to be. If I hadn’t been on my way to the airport, I would have never even found Chatuchak Park because I wouldn’t have taken the train that far. If I hadn’t seen the park, I might not have actually said fuck it and stayed. It was all perfectly placed; it was always supposed to happen that way. I was being led right back to Bangkok all along.
Because the Universe knows what we want before we even do.
And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. -Paulo Coelho
And we are being led there, whether we go willingly, or kicking and screaming and clawing (and wasting money on flights).
♥
Originally published at to our depths .
