Despair and Ecstasy

Dateline: 1991
Location: Bowling Alley on the Mainline in Pennsylvania
Event: Anthony Vaganosʼ Birthday Party

Heading into the bowling alley after my mother dropped me off outside, I walked in and said hello to my 2nd-grade friends. But my attention as a 9-year-old was
diverted to a flickering screen. Some older boys were standing in front of an arcade cabinet where animated characters were engaged in bloody combat. Being a red-blooded American male, I was captivated. I watched the violent ballet to the point I was totally oblivious to Anthonyʼs mother calling me for my turn to bowl. As I was being caroused away, I looked up at the title of this game: Street Fighter II: The World Warrior. Eventually, I would convince my parents to allow me to own the game on Super Nintendo. I think this was the first time I realized I was interested in international affairs. The characters in the game were from countries all over the world and their stories surrounded fighting one another so they could climb the ladder of the tournament to fight one man, M. Bison (or Vega in the international editions of the game.) M. Bison, the leader of the Shadoloo organization, responsible for murders, terrorism, arms trafficking, and human experimentations resided with his lieutenant Sagat in the only uncolonized country in South East Asia, Thailand. I had wondered what was so special about this place that these marauders would find a haven here. I discovered it in spades.

This country serves as a “safe” place where white people from the West can go to experience a little danger, like a carnival haunted house.

Want nitrous? 50 Baht.

Want a “massage?” 150 Baht for 30 minutes or until completion, whichever comes first.

Want forged ID cards? 200 Baht.

Want a ride from a whipped, chained, and starved elephant? 600 Baht.

Selfies with drugged tigers? 800 Baht.

Want to see 10-year-olds beat the shit out of each other? 2000 Baht for VIP ringside seats. 

Want to watch women expel various objects from their vaginas or want alone time with a ladyboy? Skyʼs the limit.

For those with darker proclivities, rumor has it that if you ask the wrong people in the right alley, for $25,000 USD Cash, you can walk into a room and put a bullet in someoneʼs head.

Whatever diversions or perversions a tourist needs, craves, or desires can be found around Khao San Road.

My experiences in Bangkok left much to be desired. Everywhere I went, it felt like I had a tattoo on my forehead that directed people to attempt to take advantage of me. Thailand trusts foreigners about as far as they can throw them. Since their national sport of Muay Thai is about elbows, knees, feet, and hands kinetically making bodily contact, that is not very far. There are special sections and prices for foreigners at temples, some shops, and sporting events. There is a duplicitous nature here. Few people keep their word, even fewer deliver what they promise. It seems as if the plethora of temples serve as a kind of a penance for all the sin that occurs in the city. 

However, perhaps why they disregard foreign interests is because over the course of centuries, they have been invaded and have been invaders; the tide of empires has ebbed and flowed across their land. But, they are incredibly pragmatic as they continue borrowing from outside the kingdom. Their temples feature stupas, tall spires, in Sri Lankan and Cambodian styles. They wear western clothing.  They even drive on the left side of the road, as I am certain Anna Leonowens would appreciate.

I think it speaks volumes that both Vietnam and Thailand are two countries of which I have no desire to return. 

As I walked the streets of Bangkok, the lyrics from an old musical about chess filled my head:

Not much between despair and ecstasy….
Can’t be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me.