I’m traveling, naked, in a place I know nothing about.
Well, if I figured out the scheduling deal on WordPress, I am. Otherwise I’m back and it’s two weeks later and it’s 2013 and I’m probably feeling like I’m pulling these things around with me everywhere thanks to what promises to be some gnarly jetlag:
(Elephants being an apt metaphor for this particular imminent jetlag hell, because after hanging out in Bangkok and chilling at the beach, I’ll be at an elephant sanctuary in the mountains north of Chiang Mai. Boom.)
Anyway, I’m assuming this scheduling deal is going to work, and that I’ll be en route to these ponderous pachyderms when this sucker goes live. So let me talk about that.
I say “naked” because I don’t have a keyboard within reach (I’m planning on a two-week tech vacation, too), and I don’t have any fiction-knowledge of the places I’ll be seeing. We’ve been planning this trip for months – hotels, travel in Thailand all lined up, money changed before we left, and I even packed my bag several days in advance – but I didn’t read a thing from Thailand.
I bought one Oxford World History Series book, but it was so dull I only got through about 40 pages, which covered about 1500 years of Thai history, so it was real in-depth. My traveling partner girlfriend and I rented a few Thai movies, a couple of which were good but most of which were mostly confusing. I’ve read Buddhist stuff here and there from Thai monks, and Brits and gringos who trained in forest monasteries there, but that’s what it is.
But no fiction. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything by a Thai author. And this makes me feel naked as newborn babe. Even last year when I went to northern India and Nepal to visit the Big Four Holy Sites of Buddhism (more on that anon, perhaps) – a purpose both so foreign to me that they were almost unimaginable a year before – I felt relatively comfortable before I went. I’ve read dozens of stories and novels of, about, and from India over the years, and I know a fair number of Indians and Pakistanis, and I thought I knew what I was in for. Of course, what I found was a bit different and definitely MORE than what I’d expected to encounter, but that’s a different story that not having a clue. Reflecting on the various places I’ve been over the last decade, I find that I’m constantly comparing them to one another, even before I get there. Still hours outside Delhi last November (2011), I remember thinking, “It’ll definitely be flatter than Medellin, maybe more like the Chaco in western Paraguay, but of course with Mexico City amounts of buildings. Probably even more than that. But still with that third-world wood-smoke smell. I’ll probably see some Arundhati Roy courtyards and some Salman Rushdie paters familia and some Vikram Chandra bad guys.” I landed and it was a little like all those places and all the books I’ve read, but nothing like anywhere else I’d ever been in way, WAY more ways. But, because of what I’d thought about going into the country, it took a few days for India to sink in past all those crap assumptions I’d built up for years through novels and movies and travel to different places.
So it isn’t a bad naked that I feel without my clothing of expectations and assumptions and pre-formed ideas. It’s actually rather exciting. It’s new and different, and I’m hoping that Thailand will start to sink in immediately. I’ve been trying to stay away from comparing what I expect my arrival Sunday to look like, and I hope by the time you read this and I’ve been there a week that I’ve let it all go and let it all in.
I’ll let you know what kind of success I’ve had when I get back.
Header image: Venus at Her Mirror (The Rokeby Venus), by Diego Velázquez