"Something Amazing..."

...It was said so many times in these few days of my trip, that it just doesn’t make sense to call this experience anything else.

Sometimes lack of vocabulary brings out the simplest forms to describe situations, it reduces the chance to complicate things, and actually lets one go back to the days when everything was simple: our feelings, instincts, face expressions, even thoughts.

Dejana left around one or two to go to the airport, to fly to Vienna, where a few people in the interview will eventually decide where life is going to take us; I went into town to go to the bus station, where a few people in an improvised lounge of a bus will eventually become part of my life. Before getting on this bus I was still doubting myself, thinking what I’m actually doing by going to some city, not knowing anyone, not knowing what I’m gonna do, just traveling for the sake of traveling. These moments of doubt kept on coming back to me later while I was having the best time, and made me realize how many times life questions you with choices that are not necessary. We are taught to put everything into perspective, which makes us question if what we want to do is really what we should be doing. I guess it is all part of the process that allows me to look back now, and say it was meant to be…

It was one of those double-decker buses, with normal seating arrangement upstairs, and something that resembled a living room downstairs. When I got on the bus the lady instructed me upstairs, but I didn’t naturally; I paused for a moment to see what happens, and so did Ariel. The lady and the driver started to complain, but once they figured who they were dealing with, soon enough they gave up. If we had gone upstairs, the story I’m about to tell you, would probably be a very different one. What I like about situations like this one, is that there is no long introductions, you cut the crap pretty fast, and the conversation just flows as if we knew each other since a long time, but just haven’t discussed some topics yet. Just to make things clear, the so called living room cum chill out lounge is still part of a Thai bus, which meant that the light bulb died yesterday, the aircon is being repaired while driving, the second driver is sleeping with one leg resting on your shoulder, and the toilet is almost incorporated in the scenario. It’s meant for ten people, well thank god only a few Yugos ever travel by bus here…

After a short session with Ariel I figured he had one of those pasts, similar to “ours”, lived in Israel, went to the States for a few years, studied, traveled, worked in bars, but also did some “proper” jobs and now he left all that behind him to find a way how to live a different life. A life more meaningful to him. A short pause of silence followed, I thought of reading something, but soon enough two eyebrows like the wings of a crow came out of the shadow. His eyes hiding beneath them, his accent really rough, the questions very direct. Ruben is his name and it means: behold...a son. The next few hours I talked, and mainly answered, sometimes smiling inside thinking in my simple knowledge, that I am being interrogated by an Israeli, or a Jew, as I used to generalize before I made this experience. We went from the Ottomans, to Tito, to good old Fidel, to Israel’s past and future, to all religions, to books. Now and then a tiny girl by the name of Nily, would peak behind his shoulder, and would stare at me, sometimes asking a question or two, but mainly listening. She listened before she spoke, and didn’t go into details if it wasn’t necessary, but always said what needed to be said. Not to mention, that later on, she will be the one to leap into a big waterfall, having four boys following her.

I tought Ariel was sleeping, but after these few hours of talk with Ruben, he suddenly rapt up the whole conversation in two sentences, after which I knew that he sleeps with one eye and one ear open. The fourth member of the crew was Moran; well the sugar comes last. This man smiles on every picture, and looks like he is lying down and chilling even when he is standing. His hair needed a seat for itself, his smile needed sunglasses. During our time together, his name evolved from, Moran, to obviously moron, to my wing man, to ma man, to Stalone, to the dude… The man is one big complaint, but every complaint was followed by an example of a true gourmet, followed by an example of pure enjoyment of a moment.

So here we have an Israeli Jew who finished the army and became a lieutenant, deeply in love with an Israeli Christian girl; an Israeli who didn’t go to the obligatory military service, but instead went to the States to get an education, and an Israeli that finished the army, but all he can think of is his moms kitchen, watching soccer with his dad, and of course ladies, but no ladyboys. This combo gave me a great insight to the complexity of this country and its people.

They took me into their group and soon enough we were leaving Chiang Mai to go to Pai, nothing to do with Pi or Phi, but just as mystifying. A village in the north east of Thailand, not yet known to the travel agencies. By now I had my camera out. We were laughing most of the time, not knowing that our first adventure was taking place as we were going along. Through bargaining with legs and arms, and inspecting different buses that will take us to our final destination, by “sheer coincidence” we decided to trust a guy that played us an Israeli track of some famous band while driving us to the bus station… these Thais look dumber than they are.

We get into the mini van, and seconds before departure, Massimo, the Italian traveler whose wrinkled face told stories of the past 30 years spent living in the backback across India and Thailand, joined us with his “partner”. The partner was a quasimodo, a freak of nature, a ladyboy, but nothing like u see in the pumping bars of Bkk. This gender bender experiment was a wreck, used up by life, somewhere in its forties. Massimo, the innocent trooper, only meant good I guess, and told us that he couldn’t get rid of his stalking creature anymore. Everytime he tried, it started crying, and being really upset, so… We departed, and after 15 minutes we stopped for a break, a classic shit break, got some water and chips, while the quasimodo served her Italian lover some coffee. The Italiano shared a few of his countless hilarious stories from his travels, like shitting in the middle of a bus in India, when the driver refused to stop. This story was great input, knowing that we will be stuck with him for the next four hours, on a bus. Within half an hour we were out of the city and surrounded by a jungle, not the BKK concrete jungle. I could fill my lungs with air again, without fearing that I am creating a lobster in my lungs by feeding it city toxins. Finally, moving your arm from your bare skin didn’t make a clammy sound of unwrapping a serious piece of bloody meat from a plasticfoil.

For some yet unknown reason, the quasimodo moved to the front of the bus close to the driver. Ariel and I were right behind them with Rubin, Nily, and Massimo in the next row. Moran with his legs stretched over three seats occupied the back. Suddenly I heard Moran’s amplified laughter; I turn around and he is there clapping hands and waving his camera, telling me to take pictures of a great moment. Massimo passed out, and was basically hanging in Ruben’s lap. First he got comfortable on Rubens shoulder, than lap, than he almost lied down on the couple; it seemed as if he was trying to assume the fetal position in Ruben’s womb. We were head banging of laughter. Every time we tried to wake him up, his eyes lit up like two massive light bulbs that were just about to pop out. So we moved him to the side, sat him up, but soon enough he fell over again. We laughed more, until we realized that this guy is not asleep, he is unconscious. I began talking to him in Italian, slapped him around, but got no reaction. Fuck. He couldn’t really talk, only some weird inarticulate shit came out of his mouth, along the lines of: I’m weak, she put something into my coffee. This was one hour into the ride, we had three to go, not knowing what’s gonna happen to him. At one point of time in his hallucinations he started talking about bombs; I thought to my self, out of all the things u can fuckin’ hallucinate about, why fuckin’ bombs when there are four Israelis and one Croatian on this damn bus.

Well we got to Pai alright, we told the Quasimodo to fuck off after it tried to “help” carry Massimos bags. We carried the trippy Italiano into a guesthouse where we locked him into a room from outside, and told the guesthouse owner not to let anyone in, not even if they claim to be his mothers or wives. Apparently this is a common scam here, quite fucking hard core if you think what would have happened, had Massimo been alone. This of course just brought our travel posse closer, and we analyzed the story a few times over again. We even met Massimo again the next day, the last thing he remembered was the gas station, crazy.

For the rest of the adventures I will have the pictures talk for me, but before I finish this, there is one more great detail I have to share with you. Before getting on the bus from Pai, to go back to Chiang Mai, over a road that felt like driving through a house of a snail with hills, me myself and I and the crew decided to have a banana shake, and a pineapple shake with ice on top of it. It took only 45 minutes and the bus had to stop for something I called the gang bang puking ceremony. I was dying of laughter as I was leaving my soul in these mountains.

On the way back from Chiang Mai to Bangkok we made a stop on the same spot where we had stopped a few days ago, that now seemed timeless. We sat down on the same table, and now words were not as necessary as then. It was clear to all of us, everything happens for a reason.

In these few days I didn’t just travel to Pai, I traveled to Zagreb, Karlobag, to Vienna, E3, I went back to some old stories, and I made some new stories. I spoke the truth all of the time, except for once, of course alcohol was involved, but I don’t think this mattered. Since I was hanging with my Israelis, and everywhere we showed up, we did as a group, one night a Scottish guy started talking to my Israeli crew and me. After a few buckets of a mix of rum, coke, red bull, and ice, and a steadily growing level of stupidity he says to me: I have never met Israelis before, so tell me how is it for u when… for a split second I had the stupid grin on my face, and soon enough I gave him a one and a half hour lecture on the army, and how everyone goes traveling after it, the ranks, the food, building the sukka, Sukkoth, Yom Kippur, the pessah, barmitzva, en macav, the respect for the family, the love for one another, the customs, mom’s humus. I was proud, I think my new friends as well.

For sure I was lucky to have met these guys, I could have met anyone else, and I would now have a completely different picture of Pai, of Israel, even of Thailand; but I met them, and a beautiful world has been created in my mind. Literally, something amazing.