Challenge: Megan vs. Mosquitoes

You know how some people are, like, chick magnets, or dude magnets, or money magnets, or magnets for something that might somehow be cool or useful in their lives?

Yeah, I’m a mosquito magnet.

It’s not quite as cool or useful as being a dude or money magnet, but that’s my lot in life, I suppose. Poor with no dudes, covered in mosquito bites.

Dudes, call me!

I can be in a room of 100 people and the lone mosquito in the room will attack only me. Everybody else will be looking at me like I’ve lost my mind as I’m swatting at the air and yelping, ‘Is nobody else getting bit here?!’ I mean, I really love attention (um, hello, I have a blog that is pretty much solely about meeeeee and also exceptionally useful tips about what kind of potato chips I think you should buy!), but even I have my limits, you know?

In addition to the regular places like arms and legs, I’ve been bitten on my lip, next to my eyes, my ears, my fingers, my toes, and several other unmentionable places. When I was in Costa Rica, I got bit on my butt more than once as I was going to the bathroom. On my butt! In the bathroom! Is there no place sacred for you, mosquitoes?

Clearly not, as they also deem it appropriate to fly up my skirt and under my shirt to bite me. I’m always like, At least buy a girl a drink first, mosquito, sheesh. I may be a cheap date, but I do have SOME pride.

I BOUGHT THIS MYSELF. Thanks a LOT, mosquito! Cheapskate.

This is all part of the continuing theme of me being really smart (that is sarcasm!) by moving to the tropics. I hate hot weather, I hate ginormous hot-weather-inspired cockroaches, and I hate mosquitoes. So I live in a tropical climate.

I generally have terrible reactions to mosquito bites; my legs look like I have acquired some rare tropical disease wherein your legs become covered in scabby red hills, which is totally attractive (the profuse sweating in the hot weather here doesn’t help with the attractiveness, either, let me tell you) (also, I just grossed myself out with the description of my legs). I always try Tiger Balm first, but sometimes it gets so bad I have to take an antihistamine so I won’t go totally batshit crazy with the itchingitchingitchingitchingohmygodtheitching.

I’ve tried all the different kinds of mosquito repellants. Citronella is a joke, Avon Skin-So-Soft is hardly even a good lotion, repellant for backwoods camping barely does it for me, mosquito coils only make me sneeze, and the Off! portable repellent you clip on yourself just made a funny noise. In general, mosquitoes just swarm to a part of my body I haven’t sprayed or bite me straight through my clothes. (Side note: I did learn that there is 98% DEET that will also take your nail polish off. Sign me up!)

Didn't work for me!

In Thailand, mosquitoes don’t just live in the great outdoors. Oh, no. That would make life easy. They live inside, too. In restaurants. In hotels. In apartments. In buses. In taxis. They even invade the holiest of places in Thailand, the place where you go to be safe and cool, and get snacks: the 7-11s.

Bastards.

The thing is, mosquito bites in the United States are really annoying, but you don’t ever really hear about anybody getting sick from them. Technically you can get West Nile Virus, but I’ve never met anybody or even known of anybody who’s gotten it.

A great aspect of Thailand is that the mosquitoes are vicious, and I actually have known of people who’ve gotten malaria or dengue fever.

As I can tend toward hypochondria, I think I have dengue fever every time I feel a little headache coming on. My conversations always go like this:

Me: Brock, I think I have dengue fever!

Brock: You don’t have dengue fever.

Me: I might! I get bitten a lot by mosquitoes! I have a headache! You don’t know! You’re not a doctor!

Brock: You don’t have dengue fever.

Me, muttering to myself: I’m pretty sure I have dengue fever.

Turns out I have never had dengue fever, but I might someday, and THEN YOU’LL ALL BE SORRY!

Mosquitoes: 1 billion   Megan: 10 (sometimes I manage to kill them, although I always feel bad about it. I don’t know–I’m weird)

p.s. Last time I thought I had dengue fever, it actually was appendicitis and I was in the hospital for three days for surgery. SO THERE!

Challenge: Getting a Cab in BKK

February 2010: Snowmaggedon has hit the Washington, D.C. area, and everyone has been stuck inside their houses for what feels like weeks. The Metro is open for a few hours then closes back down. Buses aren’t running. I’ve dug my car out of the snow more than once, but am afraid to leave because I don’t want to have to murder the person who might steal my parking place. I would not look good in a bright orange jumpsuit.

It took me HOURS to dig that out.

Finally, after what seems like years, Metro announces they will open on Saturday and stay open until midnight. Pandemonium ensues. The bars and streets are packed with people who are desperate to get out and be with other people.

I make the trek in from the suburbs (really not that far), and I miss the Metro deadline to go home at midnight, but I figure I’ll get a cab.

Ah, the naïveté of youth, right?

Surprisingly, a cab quickly comes along and stops for me. I tell him where I’m going.

“No,” he says. “I’m not going there.”

“Uhhhhhhh…” I try to keep my patience.  This happened all the time with cabbies who refused to take me to my apartment. “It’s the law. You have to take me.”

“You want to report me to the police?” he demands.

“Well, kind of,” I say.

“Fine. Here’s my license number.” And at that point he shuts off the engine and points to his license number. I mean, really?! “I wouldn’t take you there even if you gave me $50. I don’t care,” he says.

I argue with him for a minute more, lose my patience, get out of the cab and say—and I quote—“I wish you very bad luck.”

ZING! Right?! I told him!

Flash-forward a year and it’s March 2011 (funny how time works, eh?), and I’m in Bangkok, still struggling with the cab drivers.

There are a lot of challenges involved in cabs in Bangkok. And yes, I just wrote about motorcycle taxis, but the taxicab is a whole different beast. I’ve been in them a lot recently and they’ve been on my mind.

So, challenges:

Challenge 1: Getting the cab to pick you up in the first place.

Sometimes I’ll wave for a cab, the driver will look at me, and then he’ll drive right on by. Argh. It can be quite annoying at times, especially if I’m in a hurry. I try really hard to give them the benefit of the doubt—maybe they’re going off duty!– but as I’m a pessimistic person by nature, that can be hard.

There are a lot of cabs in BKK.

Challenge 2: Getting the driver to actually, you know, DRIVE you where you want to go.

This is where jackassery starts to abound in Bangkok cab drivers.

Probably 50% of the time I try to get a cab in BKK, the driver just flat-out refuses to take me where I want to go. Sometimes I want to know why—I’m apparently more of a masochist than I like to admit, because I really do know this is an exercise in futility, and it always causes me psychological anguish (YES, ANGUISH).

The answer is usually just, “No. No go.”

“BUT WHY?” You know how you’re not supposed to lose face in Thailand? I always come very, very close to losing it at these moments.

“No.” Usually this is accompanied by a very stubborn headshake and the cab driver refusing to look at me.

At this point, I get very grumbly and grumpy and get out of the cab in a huff.

But my number one favorite excuse for a driver not taking me somewhere in Bangkok is:

There’s too much traffic.

Oh, hi, Mr. Taxi Cab Driver, you drive a cab. For a living. In Bangkok. Like, the worst place in the world for traffic jams. Yeah, there might be a lot of traffic, but I’m not asking you to drive me for free. And you drive a cab. For a living. JUST SAYING.

I WILL CRUSH YOU FOR THE JACKASSERY. Gah.

Challenge 3: Getting the driver to use the meter.

I’ve lived in Bangkok for over 6 months. I may still be a sucker, but I’m not such a sucker that I’m going to go somewhere without a meter, especially as they usually ask for more than the meter would be, of course.

I’m going to start a new campaign slogan: “No meter, no love.”

It’ll be like the “No glove, no love” slogan, except not at all.

This guy's like, 'Heh.'

Challenge 4: Getting a driver who knows where you’re going.

Me, after I’ve gotten in a cab, in Thai: I’m going to R— Road, near Blah Blah Hotel. Do you know where that is?

Cabbie: Yes, I know it.

Me: **Sitting back, getting ready for a nice air-conditioned ride where maybe I can play Scrabble on my Kindle and hopefully the stupid computer player, Al, won’t cheat (Al’s a freaking cheat and he knows words that I don’t think are really words).**

Cabbie: Go straight?

Me: Uhhhhh…yeah, I think so…

Cabbie: Turn left at Blahblahblah Road?

Me: Uhhhh…no…go straight and turn right at Blergblerg Road. What the hell?

From what I understand, a lot of cab drivers in Bangkok have come to live in the city straight from the countryside approximately 15 minutes before starting their shifts and really don’t have any idea where they’re going; that’s why they ask YOU for directions. And don’t even bother trying to show them where you’re going on a map—you might as well be showing them a manuscript in ancient Greek and asking them to translate it to a Martian language. Not gonna happen.

They kind of look like me when I was looking at this sign that said something like, "Entrance for Thais Only." HUH?

Challenge 5: Not getting screwed over by the wrong route.

A couple of weeks ago, I asked a cab driver to take me to the Asok BTS station from my neighborhood. I’ve gone this route in cabs at least, I don’t know, 40 times. I know the way to go, and every cab driver goes approximately the same way.

Except the cab driver who decided to take me for a ride.

“Excuse me, why are you going this way?” I asked (in Thai) when he took a turn that was going to take us WAY the wrong direction.

“Oh, this is the way to Asok,” he assured me.

Okay. Sometimes I don’t know everything—I KNOW THIS IS HARD TO BELIEVE—so I figured maybe it was just another way to get there in the same amount of time. That’s happened before.

Ha! God, just about every time I think I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I should just trust myself.

By the time the meter was past the amount it should have been and we were stuck in traffic with at least another 25 minutes ahead of us, I got out of the cab and took the MRT (subway) just on principle. I showed him not to screw around with me! Right?!

Another time a cab driver clearly went the wrong way so we were stuck in traffic that was painfully not moving. My friends asked the driver why he chose to go the way with traffic instead of the way without traffic and he gave us a heated lecture about how this is the country of Thailand! And there’s always traffic in Thailand! And there’s traffic in other countries, too! All the time! So shut it, stupid foreigners!

We shut it. And then we got out of the cab and took the BTS train to our destination. We showed him!

Yeah! Angry cab-riders UNITE!

 

Challenge 6: Remembering that there are good guys out there.

Sometimes things go just the way they’re supposed to with cabbie. I get in the cab, tell him where I want to go and get there in the right amount of time for the right amount of money. No jackassery. No arguing. Sometimes I even have pleasant conversations with the drivers and we both practice our respective foreign language skills and have a good time teaching each other.

Cabbies have a hard job. They have to work long, hard hours and deal with a lot of jackassery of their own. I respect that, and I definitely wouldn’t want their job.

I just want to get where I’m going without hassle, people. Is that too much to ask?

Final Score:

Cabbies: 1    Megan : 0

Really, they have all the power, don’t they?

Challenge: Riding a Motorcycle Taxi

The rest of this post is NSFMD (Not Safe For My Dad), but as he doesn’t read my blawg, it’s actually NSFPWAGTTMD (Not Safe For People Who Are Going To Tell My Dad). Nobody likes a snitch (Mom).

One of the cool things about Bangkok is the number of ways you can get around the city.

Just in this picture, you can see taxis, tuk-tuks, cars, motorcycles, and busses.

And of course, the ubiquitous motorcycle taxi.

I love you and hate you, motorcycles! (in Hanoi, Vietnam)

In Bangkok, you can usually get a regular taxi to take you where you want to go (uh…sometimes, anyway), but the meter drops at 35 baht (a little over $1) and you can rack up a decent tab just going around the corner. Believe me, I’ve done it. (I was sick! I don’t normally take cabs around the corner!)

The thing is, traffic in Bangkok sucks. Bad. It makes the Beltway in Washington, D.C. look like a speedway, and that’s saying something. Sometimes it’s just simpler to grab a motorcy and zip around the cars.

The drivers are easy to spot because they’re everywhere, they sit on motorcycles, and they wear bright vests that designate what area they’re working in. If you miss them, you’re not looking very hard.

This is part of the gang near my building.

I’m usually pretty lazy in the morning. When I first came to Thailand I refused to take a motorcycle because I was a little nervous and also thought walking to the train would be good for me. Now I realize I was a total fool.

10-minute walk to the train station?

No, sir. I’ll take the 3-minute death-defying motorcycle ride to the train station, thank you very much. And please note: I ride sidesaddle, baby, and motorcycle taxis don’t offer you helmets. Praying you’re not going to spill your tea, fall off the seat and/or crash into a car is a good way to get the adrenaline flowing in the morning! Wakes you right up!

Here’s a video of what it’s like to ride to the train in the morning:

On a motorcycle, you can zip right around traffic and give all the cars the bird in your head. You can (not legally) go on the sidewalk, which totally pisses me off as a pedestrian, but thrills me as a passenger. You can get where you want to go, and you can get there fast, provided you don’t have a horrible, disfiguring accident before you arrive.

For me, the most annoying aspect of motorcycles is negotiating a price (before you get on the bike, people!) since there’s no meter. Sometimes I don’t know how far away something is, so I get ripped off when I accept a price and then we go 3 minutes to the destination. Sometimes I know how much a ride should be and the drivers try to charge me more anyway and then ride off (without me) when I offer the correct price.

I always end up in a rage when this happens. I can’t help it. I’m not a fan of jackassery. It makes me furious.

Like I'm GODZILLA.

p.s. I have learned that there is talk about having motorcycle taxis use meters. We shall see…

My biggest smackdown in motorcycle riding was learning to ride sidesaddle. It was a big, big step because it is really, really frightening. You can see Thai women riding sidesaddle, looking all Burberry picnic (bored, for those of you not in the know), talking on the phone, balancing in a teensy little skirt on the back of a motorcycle without flashing anything, and looking for all the world like it’s no big deal. Like, Oh, hi, I’m riding on the back of a motorcycle and I could fall to my death, but who cares?

When I ride sidesaddle, I have to take some time to situate myself, usually spilling tea on my pants in the process, to the amusement and bemusement of the driver, who is waiting kind of impatiently for me. Then I have to slouch down to keep my balance, and I always keep a death grip on the bar at the back of the seat. Also, I have big ol’ feet, so I’m always worried they’re going to get caught in the wheel, and that would be a really horrible way to die. Think about it, but not too hard if you’re my mother. I try to look all Burberry picnic when I’m riding, but I’m sure I look more Jurassic Park picnic (terrified and trying not to die, though not usually running from dinosaurs).

Although there ARE dinosaurs in Thailand. Sure, they’re just statues, but they could come alive. You don’t know! Didn’t you ever see Child’s Play? Chucky? I THINK I HAVE MADE MY POINT.

Final Score:

Motorcycle Taxis: 0  Megan : 1

I mean, I haven’t fallen off one yet, right? And even though I get ripped off sometimes, I’m still smacking it down. Be nice to me, motorcycle drivers!

Challenge: Eating ALL the Thai Food!

This one is for my family and friends back home who ask me what I eat over here in Thailand.

On a daily basis, it’s not too exciting. Usually I have a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich for breakfast, although I tried for a couple of days to eat oatmeal before I realized that involved neither peanut butter nor Nutella. What kind of breakfast is that?

Pipe down, nutritionists.

Lunch and dinner depend on where I am and if I feel like going out, but if I eat at a street stall I’ll spend about $1 for dinner. At a restaurant, without drinks, I might spend $3-5. I’d say I eat Thai food about 50% of the time

Most of the food above is from Phitsanulok. SO. GOOD.

Most of that is from Surat Thani.

Mostly from Surat Thani also.

I was on a kick for a couple of weeks where I wanted to document everything I ate for a week. Then I would forget for a day and decide I needed to start over. So, you know, repeat that a few times and you get a very incomplete view of what I ate sometimes when I was away for work and Thai people were ordering things for me, which means I got the most delicious food always.

Most of that food is from Hua Hin.

What I’m constantly struck by is how much variety there is in Thai food. Back home we only see the same noodle and rice dishes over and over, so I had no idea how many different kinds of food there are.

Oh, and by the way, I’m never paying $14 for pad thai again. Are you kidding me? It’s ONE DOLLAR. people. I’d pay up to $5 if I was at a fancy restaurant, but come on! $14? Seriously? It’s noodles and some sauce!

Final Score

Eating ALL the Thai Food: 1  Megan: 0

Let’s be honest, I only branch out when I have somebody else ordering for me. Plus, I routinely crave pizza and Western food…does that make me a bad ex-pat? *Sigh* So many ex-pat rules to remember!

 

Challenge: Overcoming Introversion in a New Place

Some people are capable of moving to a new place and immediately–before even exiting the plane–they have been invited to parties, had several marriage proposals, and have been made official members of foreign families.

I am not one of those people. I am rather in awe of those people, but I also think it sounds really exhausting. I mean, talking to all those new people? Exhausting. Reading a book quietly to yourself? Not exhausting.

In fact, it's rather relaxing.

Basically, I’m an introvert. I’m not shy, I’m not socially awkward (usually—shut up!), but I’m without a doubt an introvert. Given a choice, I will normally keep to a small group of friends who I’ve known for a long time.

This makes living abroad…difficult at times, as you don’t normally know a lot of people when you move to a new place. I knew a total of four people when I moved to Bangkok, which is better than when I first moved to France, Japan, or Maryland, anyway, when I knew zero people. In those other places, I ended up making a lot of BFFs (are the kids still saying that?). (And, YES, you can have more than one BFF, okay? Stop being so judgmental!) I just took it on faith that the same would happen eventually in BKK.

Blind faith and denial, people. It’s what’s gotten me this far, and I’m not giving up on it. It’s been good to me.

Sometimes it works out.

Still, I’m older now and becoming more introverted, lazy, and set in my ways. This was a typical conversation in my head when I first moved to Bangkok:

Me: Should I go out and make new friends and explore this amazing city with them or stay in and surf the internet?

Me: Um…is that really a debate?

Me: You’re right. Internet forever!

In my defense, I also read and watched TV sometimes. I’m not a total freak, sheesh.

This was the conversation in my head a week or two after moving here:

Me: Should I go out and make new friends or stay in and surf the internet?

Me: Do you want to be sad and lonely and have nobody show up at your funeral when you die? And also have a bunch of cats and be that weird lady on the block who everybody thinks is a witch?

Me: Good point…wait. If I’m that weird lady who everybody thinks is a witch, will all the annoying people leave me alone? No, no…that’s not cool. I don’t even like cats that much. I mean, they’re okay, but I don’t think I’d want a bunch of them. So, I’ll just surf the internet for friends! Compromise, self, that’s what life’s all about!

This is my neighbor’s cat from when I lived in Maryland. I really did grow fond of her, but she was cat non grata after she pooped in my living room and I didn’t find it until the next afternoon. Bad kitty!

I’ve made virtually (ha!) all of my new friends since moving to Thailand from the interwebs. These are people I’ve actually met in real life, thank you very much. Some of them. It’s not my fault if my internet friends live in other countries! Or live in the same country, but we’ve never met! These things happen, people! It’s the 21^st century! It’s the future! Now where’s my jet pack? Or those flying skateboards from Back to the Future?

But I digress. (One more thing: A jet pack would be really handy to get around Bangkok traffic. Just saying.)

What is up with the traffic? Seriously!

My new friends in Thailand are awesome, for the record (as are my old friends in Thailand). In case you’re wondering, it’s not hard making friends when you move to a new place, but it’s like dating—it requires you to pretend to be somebody you’re not for a little bit until the person likes you. (“Oh, yeah, I mean, I love everything about Thailand! Thai food is the best! I could eat it for every meal for the rest of my life! Hooray! I’m always smiling!”) Then you can go back to being super pessimistic. (“Yeah, Thai food is great, but if I don’t get a decent pizza soon, I’m going to effing kill somebody. Like, real soon. This is not a drill, people, and I am NOT smiling.”)

For some people, making friends is not a major effort. For an introvert like myself, though, it’s an effort. It’s an effort that’s worth it, to be sure, but it’s an effort nonetheless.

My friends! They are the awesome.

Final Score:

Overcoming Introversion: 0   Megan: 1

I could do a little better and make more of an effort…but I’m kind of lazy. And seriously, I have a lot of books to read since I got a library card!

Oh yeah, and Pizza Mania actually has really decent pizza in Bangkok. Just FYI.