Captain's log: Day 1

After many tumultuous days in transit, I have finally arrived in a sleepy Thai mountain town called Pai. In case you haven't heard, Pai is almost unreachable by vehicle. I strapped on my back pack and hiked 10 miles into the jungle, swinging my machete the whole way. I was confronted by a gibbon (vicious monkey with large fangs) who flung his excrement at me until I surrendered my Nature's Trail granola bars. Sweaty, riddled with bug bites, and wreaking of the gibbon's last meal, I stumbled into the bus station hours later. I was escorted to a large red 1970 city bus that sputters oil in all directions. My bags were tied to the top, beside a cage of disgruntled squawking chickens. I was forced to elbow my way onto the vehicle, which was packed full of impatient locals. The bus normally holds 20 people, but on this day the head-count was 35. I sat sandwiched between the window and a small wrinkled man with no teeth who spat bits of tobacco onto the seat when he laughed. We lurched forward onto the gravel road, which is known for it's 765 turns as it winds up the mountain. On steep inclines the engine would cut out, letting the bus roll backward off the trail, until the driver could coax the ignition back into function. Tai people are known to have weak stomachs and after half an hour, many of them could not contain the contents of their stomachs. With heads hanging out the windows, my view of the mountain was obstructed. The temperature steadily dropped as we climbed up in altitude. The old man beside me took to snuggling underneath my armpit, grumbling in Thai when I did not readily accept him. Four hours later, we pulled into a small town whose streets were lit by strings of Christmas lights and littered with street vendors selling an assortment of brightly coloured bags and several flavours of noodle soup. At the bus station, I picked up my bags (which were now covered in chicken feathers) and headed toward a pay phone. I dialed the number of the girl who was supposed to direct me to the guest house. The dull ring in the receiver was interrupted by a voice that sounded of years of cigarettes and Long Island Ice Teas.
"You here?"
Yes, I am. At the bus station.
"Follow the man with the Tiger on his face. Don't let him see you, just go where he goes."
With that, she hung up. I stood with the phone in my hand, wondering what the hell she meant. I sighed and reached for my phone card. I needed to call Laurie to let her know I arrived safely, but was not entirely sure of what I would say to her.
"I love you the most, too."
As I stepped out of the phone booth, I was hit with an incredible hunger. Realizing I had not eaten since I stepped off the plane, I began my search for something decent to eat. I wandered the streets, watching the lanterns lit by locals float into the sky. I smelled Pad Thai and followed the scent to a small stand with piles of noodles and vegetables waiting to be cooked. I placed my order and looked around for a place to set my bags. My eyes passed over parked motorbikes, lazy dogs, and landed on a bench across the street. There was a Thai man sitting there, smoking cloves. He turned his head and as his face entered the light of the street lamp, I saw the sepia tattoo on his cheek: a snarling tiger. Great, so I found the mystery man who I was supposed to follow, but now what? He wasn't going anywhere, but I felt compelled to keep my eyes on him. I abandoned my Pad Thai and slowly moved across the street to stand by the bench. He took a long drag, blew out his smoke, and crushed the butt into his palm. Before I could make it to the other side, we has already making a bee-line for the bar on the corner. I quickened my pace and kept on his trail. I asked myself repeatedly, what am I doing? As the man with the tiger slipped into the bar, I followed. Red light spilled over me and my ears were filled with a heavy drum beat and soft violin. A woman wearing layers of skirts and long flowing hair held a gold lotus in each hand. Inside the lotuses were lit candles. She danced and twirled the fire around her body, in time with the music. She was so entranced with the vibrations of the instruments that momentarily, she lost control and set her hair on fire. Someone in the crowd quickly put it out with a scarf and she continued with her dance. I took a seat at the bar and let my eyes follow the colorful art on the walls.
"Can I get you a drink?"
The raspy voice was right in my ear. She laughed as I turned around, full of confusion. I let out a chuckle hesitantly, more confused than ever. The voice had come from a young girl with freckles speckling every inch of her exposed skin. She raised her eyebrows and asked again if she could get me a drink. Yes, I'll have a beer Chang.
"I'm glad to see that you found Pu. He didn't see you, did he?"
No. I take it Pu has the tiger on his face.
"Yeah. Awesome, right?"
She explained to me that Pu has had a paranoia of the paparazzi ever since Princess Diana's death. He thinks that any white person with a camera is out to ensure his demise. If he had seen me he would have attacked me, pulling apart all of my belongings until he found- and destroyed- my camera. Apparently it takes a while before Pu will trust any Falang (foreigner). I realize later that she hasn't introduced herself. I know that her name is Shelley, but she speaks to me like she knows me. She tells me that she has a feeling we'll be best friends. BFFs, in her words. She explains that we'll have a secret handshake and use our psyches to communicate. She has yet to explain why she didn't just come to the station to pick me up. I furrowed my brow and thought very hard about that question, hoping our new ESP would kick in. After the band finishes it's last notes, she tells me to grab my bags. We walk into the cold night air and my travel-exhaustion kicks in. She swings her leg over a large motorcycle and pats the seat behind her. I situate myself on the back, not sure if my bags will balance. She kicks it into first and peels out of the main drag.
"You better get used to this. You're going to be driving me around from now on."
I'm going to need a helmet, I think to myself.
The wind cuts through my t-shirt and burns on my knuckles. We follow a winding road, out past the mango trees and into the country night. The mountains loom all around and the stars have never been so clear. I point out Orion and Shelley shows me how the moon is tilted like a bowl in this hemisphere. She pulls into a hidden driveway and parks behind a group of banana trees that are tied with a hammock. We walk to a bungalow and she tosses me the keys.
"This is where I leave you. I'll be back in the morning for breakfast. I still need to debrief you."
I'm still standing outside when I hear her motorcycle back on the road. The country air smells sweet and I take a moment to remember why I'm here. I have three months ahead of me, full of possible adventures. Tonight is just the beginning.