<<< budu boy >>>: Thai Boy’s Diary

Hello. I am a Thai boy, haha, shut up Cekmi, you are not babyish enough to be considered as a boy, but heck, it was so funny because almost everyone in Thailand thought that I was a Thai boy and, to a horribly ironic extent, a money boy! Haha. I am a 31-year-old money boy. Anyone? Haha.

Oh my God, my birthday’s 8-day backpacking adventure to Thailand recently was really haunting. I was overwhelmed by the bizarre experiences and findings in Thailand that when I came back to Malaysia, I was dawned with a totally fresh perspective about life and friendship. Despite my huge fights with my Chinese travel-mate, Derek, which finally left me alone in the middle of Bangkok city, it hardly affected my free spirit to continue exploring the beautiful land and to have more fun with each and every discovery I made. In fact, I found greater pleasure when doing it alone, and truthfully, my solitary exploration provided me with broader perspectives about so many little things that I wouldn’t possibly grasp when Derek was around. So let’s not focus on these unattractive fights because that’s another story altogether. But Derek has unfortunately become part of my story lines, so be it. To tell you about my adventure in Thailand, I have to tell you these hideous facts.

Had Yai: The Assault and Insult

My first stop in Thailand was Had Yai, the commercial centre of Southern Thailand and a popular weekend destination for visitors from Malaysia. It is located 1300 kilometres from Bangkok and about 50 kilometres from Pedang Besar on the Malaysian border. After 9 hours of midnight bus ride from KL, I reached there early in the morning, only to be assaulted by travel agents who rudely pushed me around to get into their dusty tuktuks. I gave in to their forceful demand which later infuriated Derek since, according to him, I shouldn’t have followed the agents so easily. He was right because I was too gullible when it comes to traveling and I could be loosely tricked. It was my second overseas trip and, conversely, Derek had been traveling to so many foreign countries, including some of the major European cities, so he must have experienced a lot of things that were still alien to me. Having realised this, I wanted him to guide me. Well, this was my first mistake.

At this point, Derek and I had to make an important decision whether we should stay overnight in Had Yai or proceed to Phuket at once. I explained to him that we shouldn’t waste spending our night in Had Yai which, judging from my first impression, failed to turn me on and so I suggested that we should go to Phuket right away on that very morning. I looked at Derek for approval, but he looked untroubled and, to my shock, let me make the decision by my own since, according to his wisdom, “You have done the research and you should know what’s happening here better than me.” I was quite disturbed with his playing-safe response since we were travel-mates and we should work like a team and therefore make mutual decisions together. For me, both of us should be responsible in all situations that we were about to endure. In addition, he was not supposed to blame me if things went wrong since we were backpacking, not on some kind of well-planned tours, so there would be a lot random decisions to be made. But surprisingly, he blamed me for not planning our travel well and consequently put me in a very difficult situation.

“You are the lecturer, but your level is here,” he said, showing me his right hand below his stomach. I was so offended by his judgmental attitude and brutal honesty that I directly told him that his remark was terribly insulting that he shouldn’t attack on my profession since it had nothing to do with traveling to Thailand. I started to smell trouble.

At last, we bought the bus ticket to Phuket at 8.30am, spent only few hours in Had Yai, decided not to explore the potentially terrorized city, only tasted its battered bus terminal that looked abandoned for years. After exchanging ringgit Malaysia to Thailand Baht, which was far more expensive than we had thought, we quickly got into the bus, leaving behind shattered Had Yai with bitter memories of assault and insult.

Sucking Journey

The 10-hour daylight journey to Phuket was tiresome, but I entertained myself by admiring the greeneries proudly lining along the road and being amused by the constant sounds of bus screeches and human cries and all that, ignoring the endless complaints from Derek who repeatedly bragged like an old broken machine, saying that he would rather be on a much more comfortable MAS flight from KLIA to Phuket International Airport rather than riding a bumpy bus that painfully swelled his smooth ass. I smiled and pitied for his physical and emotional depression, and started to think that he is such a spoilt, pampered rich boy who does not possess the right spirit of backpackership that takes great pleasures out of haphazardness and inconvenience. Such a nuisance, so I thought. But I reminded myself that I had to be stronger and bear with this possible trouble-maker since he could be part of the challenges that I had to face while traveling, hoping that it would add to my future excitements. I prayed that I was right.

After being on a long 500-kilometre ride, we reached Phuket Town around 6pm. It was drizzling. Oh no, another bad decision of mine – I came at a wrong season. Derek must be mad again. I looked around the bus terminal for a transport to Patong Beach, the very place where I would spend my birthday’s eve that night.

“Don’t follow any agent!” Derek suddenly reminded me. Thanks Derek, now you are the decision-maker. We ended up riding a tuktuk which I found thrilling since I could feel the breeze of the island while I mesmerized myself with the beautiful sights along the journey, a typical Cekmi. While I was regaling myself with newly-found beauty of Phuket, Derek interrupted: “You know the hotel we are going to check-in, right?” I nodded, expressionless. It was such an irritating interrogation, knowing that this was my first time there, so how could I possibly be expert about everything on the island? Yes, I did conduct my so-called thorough research about Phuket, but I might not know all about the details, and when I was on the island, I preferred to explore it and challenged myself with the unknown. The fact that he totally depended on me and possibly blamed me for all wrong things was absurdly unacceptable and fucking annoying.

Phuket Dream

Keeping away the torment from Derek, I was still able to get over-ecstatic with the dangerously-constructed hilly roads and disorganized composition of Phuket that I found it almost pathetic for not being able to share these beautifully old charms immediately with anyone who could appreciate my queer sensitivity and poetic romanticism. I couldn’t share it with Derek who seemed to think that Paris was more elegant than Phuket Island.

I tried to recall some facts about Phuket: It is located in the Andaman Sea, 885 kilometres from Bangkok, the “Pearl of the South”, Thailand’s largest island covering some 810 square km with tropical vegetation, long sandy beaches, limestone cliffs and forested hills that make Phuket a magnificent holiday resort.

Wow! Here I am, on one and only Phuket Island, on my birthday’s eve! What an exotic destination to grace my new age with, to commemorate my mother’s suffering 31 years ago, to look back at my life and be proud of it, and to look forward at my future life, and be able to say, there I was, on the Phuket Island, alive at 31, thanks mommy, ya be da be doo…

I cried happily in silence, looking at Derek for a hint of slight understanding, but he was sad-looking, probably sulking over the fact that he was riding a primitive transport, not a posh taxi with a good-looking chauffeur in Barcelona.

My pre-matured, disoriented happiness was suspended when I finally arrived in Patong Beach and checked-in at the hotel called Chong-ko. For the following three days and two nights, I would be celebrating my 31st birthday in Phuket. With Derek.