Curry for Breakfast

Jan. 29

I’m starting this around 9:30 a.m. Bangkok time, and so for most of you reading this, it’s 9:30 p.m. on the East Coast.

I traveled somewhere between 7,000 and 93 million miles and I don’t have to reset my watch. Is that great or what?

I’m using wifi in the lobby because I can’t get it in the room, and there is a Thai pop music show on television in the background. I know I’m somewhere else.

The hot water supply, although still mercurial, seems to be holding up.

It could be the result of jet lag, when my system can’t feel the difference between day and night, or it may be that curry for breakfast is more fitting than the average farang may expect.

The breakfast buffet has the usual Euro-American fare: eggs, toast, bacon, ham, etc. But yesterday there was red curry and today green. Also rice, papaya, pineapple, cauliflower with broccoli.

Life is good. So is the curry.

Also cheap—in the good sense.

An expensive draft beer in this neighborhood costs about $3 American.

Yesterday we got back on the BTS Skytrain and retraced our route to the station called Saphan Taksin where we met Larry for dinner the other night. This time we were bound for the Central Pier. We got onto a water taxi, a boat full of seats, and went to the royal palace.

Sights on the bank make the ride alone worth the trip.

Whenever you get to the palace, guys hawking tuk-tuk tours tell you it’s closed, but they’ll give you a ride for 100 or 200 baht and bring you back when the gates reopen. The itineraries usually include a shopping stop.

We bid a guy down to 50 baht to go to the Standing Buddha and the Lucky Buddha. That’s $1.50 for a ride of several (maybe four or five) kilometers.

He got us to the Standing Buddha, where we stayed for maybe half an hour. As we were promised, it’s big—about 150 feet high. A man was stringing saffron drapes over Buddha’s shoulders. There was incense, along with recorded chanting, but it was a real church. People were down on their knees lighting incense and offering flower buds.

There was a cat wearing a cape sleeping at the Buddha’s feet.  Just so you don’t have to take my word for it, that’s the photo of the day.

On the way out, the driver pulls the tuk-tuk over so fast that he hits the curb. “I want to take you to a Thai factory.”

I used to visit factories for a living. They can actually be fun, but not today. He shows me his wrist watch, as if that’s going to be an incentive.

I don’t want to buy anything. I don’t want to look at clothes or rubies or watches. I show him on the map where I want to go. He can’t take me to the Lucky Buddha unless we go to the factory. 

OK. It’s back to the palace.

The palace was, in fact, closed. But that’s all right. The palace is semi-boring. The place I wanted to see is the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. The Emerald Buddha sits on a golden pillar on a shining golden altar, adorned with such intricacy that I can’t imagine all that is worked into it—vines and demons and saints, I guess. 

The effigy of Buddha itself looks to be about a foot and a half high.

It is indeed green. If it is covered truly covered in emeralds,  that is pretty impressive even if it is on the same scale as the Infant of Prague. (Editor’s note: The Emerald Buddha is named for its color. The figure is 66 cm high and is made of jasper.)

There were tour groups shoving us aside and blocking the walks on the way to the place, but the temple was not as crowded as I feared. We stood in the back for a couple of minutes. Joanna was underwhelmed.

It was hot outside by New Jersey standards. The cold snap was ending. It was in the mid-80s Wednesday and a bit cold for the locals. Thursday hit 90 or so, still mild for the Thai, but for the farang standing in the sun was a bitch. Even Joanna was feeling the heat, and that surprised her because she’s from Hong Kong.

We had some fruit juice and hid in the shade, then tried to hire a tuk-tuk to carry us three blocks to the Reclining Buddha, which is in a temple complex next to the palace. The first guy wanted 80 or 100 baht. The second guy asked for 60 and took 50.

We spent more time stuck in traffic than riding, but it was worth it for the break. 

They charge 100 baht for a ticket to the complex. I normally resist paying an admittance fee to enter a church, but have done it a few times before. Compared with Westminster Abbey, $3 to see the Sleeping Buddha is a real bargain. You don’t get royal tombs, but you do get a free bottle of water.

The Buddha is huge and brassy yellow, except for the eyes, which are white with black pupils. The feet are huge and symmetrical. We couldn’t see the writing on the underside. They were screened from view, and a sign said the Buddha’s feet were under reconstruction, out for half soles and lifts.

The things that impressed Joanna the most were the decorative motifs on many of the pagodas and buildings. They were stylized florals set piece by piece. Some of these buildings are more than 200 years old. 

She was amazed. How did they do it? How long did it take? There’s not a piece missing. What kind of adhesive did they use? What an achievement of maintenance.

They are impressive, and not only for their age. The variety of colors blends into a harmonious whole. But then, that may be the point. After all, these are the creations of Buddhists.

The outside walls facing the street take more punishment, it seems. There were many spots filled in with cement where the original mosaic pieces had been lost. A few stone flower petals had fallen onto the sill at the foot of the wall. “I take it all back,” she said.

We had stepped off at Pier 9 for the palace, but the Sleeping Buddha is closer to Pier 8. To get there, we took a detour through a cavernous warehouse complex and down a lane where people store things like their portable cooking carts for street food and their personal possessions. There are signs that people may live there.

We found our way to a pier, stood in line in the heat for a boat, and finally got back to Saphan Taksin at rush hour. We were exhausted from walking in the heat, and really needed to get back to the hotel. But it wasn’t as bad as I feared. We were able to board the first train at Saphan Taksin and also at the transfer station, Siam.

When we got back to the hotel, Joanna took a nap and I checked e-mail.

We went to the American Bar and Grill, about 100 paces from the hotel, for dinner. I had meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Joanna had a Philly-style cheese steak made with Australian beef. 

When we ordered a side of asparagus, Tom, the owner of the bar told us that the kitchen uses only locally grown vegetables delivered three times a week from a specific market in his end of town. We had met Tom the night before, when we stopped in for a few late beers. Tom is an ex-pat from New England, who has a Thai wife, as many ex-pats do, and home schools his children.

That cheese steak might count as exotic for Joanna. The first time she tasted one was only a few years ago, when we were in Philadelphia. She has had maybe one or two others since then.

As exotic, certainly as curry for breakfast.

Be well, all.