| Blogs > swallowtsui > Hopping Swallow 鍋爐焰焰 |
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On the road with you three (a series of stories) Ending of the road: Ranong, Thai/Burmese Border Town. Characters: 3 persons that can be archetypical me, DVC and a crazy young dreamer who names himself as Realist. Ranong rains crazily in September. Rain for 30 minutes then sunshine for five, such and such. The rain comes out of a sudden so does the sun win over the rain. Quite often we are caught by the rain. That day, I lose D and R, and I have to straighten up to ride my bike back to our villa. On the way, a downpour strikes and I have to take a shelter in a roadside pavillion, where several Thai motor-taxi drivers are there already. Realist always reminds me to tend to the everchanges of landscapes, colors, and everything natural. "You are handicapped if you cant see well. Why you dont wear your glasses?" He repeated this to me on Karon beach of Phuket, where we use to hanging out from dawn to noon while D is still sleeping - we two stretch our bodies first, then do some jogging on this 5-star beach claimed by Thai tourism, then take a shower braving the wave. "Can you see the ripples? long-tails? the shades fo the faraway hills...?" R pours a string of questions with a bewildered eye, while resting down on the left of me, hands holding up his jaws. I just answer idly, "I am a minimalist. I like minus and disgust adding up things to my body. And, to see well we need not a pair of good eyes, but good imagination." I look at him, morning sunshine in my eyes. Very few ppl on the beach in the morning, except the two of us. Usually I smile to the two or three passers-by, if i see them looking at us nicely to envy a pair of such harmonious beach lovers. Almost everyday, a Thai silky bed linen vendor peddles by, greets us warmly and gently, "hi, how are you?" R exchanges with him, asking about his business. The vendor, having the dark skin like every other Thai, bearing a real smile like most of Thai, unfolds his things - very big and exotically patterned - for us. They fly in the sea breeze and we narrow up our eyes to see. "Enjoy your day!" we never buy anything from him but he always does so and says so heartedly. At this moment, R would becomes blue. "I feel sorry. I really want to buy from him the bed linen, such a nice guy. But it's too expensive for me, you know..." I just stare at him with a penetration mixed of thorough understanding and kind of hate that I cant change anything...but I agree. Such intricateness go on until he tells me, "Look, Dvc." Then I see a half-smiling D walks by our beach towels. "O D!" I call out in a usual, high-tuned, intimate way. He makes a decent bow, his style of being polite and cultivated, and soon dip into the sea. R and me will never see Dvc on the beach again. R says he doesnt understand D and D never explains himself well, just to make a detour jokes that the audience dont understand. I understand, his age and wisdom make him like this. We are acually fallen behind him. ... Rain still on, walahwalah, I look at the sky like R looking up to tell the weather, but I cannt figure out when it would stop. I want to ask the drivers but cannot speak Thai. Pointing up to the rainy grey sky and to my wrist, though I dont have a watch on it, I gesture-ask them. They smile and say something I dont understand. It's getting dark. I need to explore back to the villa in this strange city, a bit risky, though I know it would be safe, very safe. I settle down on the wooden bench and feel happy to find out the truth why there are so many pavillions on roadside when I look out from the bus going up to the east north from southern Thailand - they have plenty of sudden rains. I begin to fell into sleep with the music of the rain, thinking how to go to the Immigration or tour agencies to get or buy a visa to Burma. Muddy,jet stream running down from the mountain river sweep aside our rooms, the sound is good for soothing nerves, we three all agree this while we take a sip of the leaves we bought in Bangkok - I have to beg for it because D&R think it's a waste I take that. The nature soften us down... My sleep in the pavillion is sweet. One driver's engieer booming wake me back. Rain slows down, a mini open-roof bus pull down and three go off, one girl of them makes a phonecall in the box as soon as she land on. Soon her mother come with a motorbike and full gear of raincoats and they disappear into one of the many bungalows or villas. I have to find my way back to the river-side villa which enjoys a view of the powerful river and mountain, as well as a public hot-spring where we join the locals, fully-dressed, for the great steam bath. I use my hand to rub away the water on the bike seat. A deep breath, I gear up along with the whislting cars, trucks. Very high speed, them and me. Again, suddenly, after ten minutes something, the rain comes again. I keep riding, rainwater rolling inside and outside me. I dont want to cry but I feel exhaled. Last morning, I was squeezing on a motorbike with R and the driver. Lunatics. Very powerful rain dropped on us. At first R held D's umbrella over my head, still the rain attacked us. We were all wet but cool. I had to rest my hands on his hairy legs and he had to occasionally hit my waist from the uneven up and down. However, no way we feel close, we just feel cool. D declared to us, I would not go out to be caught by the rain. Then we three deliberately lose each other on the way back from the hot spring until R stopped to fecth me and proposed a visit to the local market. We have the same like to stroll in the mobile market, a display of spicy, colorful food, handicrafts, local people's way of life...We smell, look, try immediately. Generally R becomes very excited if he finds a nice drink and dish. He would lift it up to my nose and urge me to take. I try and nod my head, "MMMMMHH!" We invite D. Yet D prefers museum and his only favorite fm the market is banana. "D only eats banana", we joke. "Thais have a magic use of rubber bands in the market, they use less plastics then Chinese." ... "I dont know whether I can carry on and you are fond of me as well as my stories." ... |
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yes, temp monsoon. yes, i feel i was a stranger here. Gee! dvc, you said you wanted to enter the story, in these stories, you must know motorcycling at 40-60km/hr (otherwise, me and R would complain); you are a very good swimmer in the wild sea, it's right out in the sea another guy told you about the Bangkok coup; you must know to cycle hard along with another motorbike. What else you must know? No way dvc's corpse would be found, there's no leftover of tsunami but warnings: a big dvc tortoise for display, every minute he will be awakened! I touch your cell, smell your blood, sigh and walk to my surf board. You are grounded, DVC!
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Wonderful! You are the one (this moment) making me laugh, then rest down to smile. My hero of wit, a muscular dvc!
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dvc, pls write yr story as challenged by yrself abt our meeting, set in bangkok, Kok San Road, a backpackers' wa/onderland, free souls' toppling branch. i want to learn fm you the techniques and imaginations. BTW, i made tongues like that in your pic. "-)
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