S’mores

It was still humid out, but the sun had set and the overall temperature had dropped from “sweltering” to “bearable”. Fireflies danced in the darkness, flashing their lights in a mesmerizing display.

The only other light came from the small fire that was happily burning its way through several small branches that had been fed to it. The fire was sitting in a wide metal dish atop four stubby legs. Every now and then I would toss another small branch into the pit, and the flames would flare up in appreciation.

Normally sitting around the fire like this would be like shining a beacon for all the bugs to come homing in and begin feasting on our flesh, but a couple citronella candles burning around the fire helped dissuade some of the biters, and a liberal application of repellant helped deter the rest. I sat back in the wooden recliner, satisfied that the fire was well fed, and took a swig from a glass bottle of cider that was gently sweating on the armrest, the condensation pooling around the base of the bottle.

“So explain to me these “s’mores”,”

I looked up at the girl sitting across the fire from me, her long blonde hair tied up in a loose bun at the back of her head.

“Not sure there’s much to explain. It’s a traditional camp-fire snack. Chocolate, marshmallow and graham crackers in a sort of dessert sandwich.”

“It sounds odd.”

“I thought so too when I first heard of them. But if you do it right…well, try one and see for yourself.”

Summer shrugged and speared a marshmallow on the end of a long, thin toasting fork. She held the mallow over the flame, slowly turning it.

“I’m glad it isn’t too buggy tonight.” I mentioned, spearing my own mallow and waving it in the general direction of the fire.

“Me too. I hate bugs.” Summer didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on her marshmallow.

“Really? I would have thought you’d be all about them.”

“Well, some of them. Butterflies. Dragonflies. Cicadas. They’re kinda cool.” She blinked as a firefly flashed briefly right in front of her face. “Oh yeah. And these guys.” She shook her head. “I don’t think anyone likes the suckers and biters though.” She pulled the marshmallow from the flame, it’s natural white colour having been replaced by an almost uniform tawny brown. “Now what?”

“Take your graham cracker and chocolate and rest the marshmallow on top of them. Then take the other cracker and make a sandwich,” I glanced at my own marshmallow which had taken on a charred appearance. “Dammit.”

I pulled my fork from the fire and scraped the burnt candy off of it as best I could with a graham cracker, taking care not to get any on my skin. Burnt marshmallow is like napalm; very hard to get off and burns like a motherfucker.

“Mm!” Summer gave out a short exclamation. “That’s really good!” She had taken a bite of her s’more, a little marshmallow still on her lips. Her cornflower blue eyes were opened wide as she took another bite.

“You see what I’m sayin’?” I asked her, spearing another marshmallow on my fork for another attempt.

“Yeah! Oh man, Autumn should try these. I’d bet she’d really go for it,”

“You can also substitute chocolate chip cookies for the graham crackers if you want to really want to go wild.”

Summer cocked an eyebrow.

“I think you’re definition of “go wild” is quite different from mine.”

There was silence for a moment whilst I focused on not burning my new marshmallow whilst Summer began to put the components of a new s’more together.

“I, uh, I met one of your cousins last week. Whilst I was in Thailand.” I said, eyes fixed on the end of my fork.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Said his name was…what was it? Varsha? Borsha? Something like that.” I pulled the fork from the flames. The top of the candy was singed black, but the rest was salvageable . I squeezed it between two graham crackers, letting the heat from the marshmallow melt the chocolate, glueing the whole sandwich together.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. The Thai’s call him Nâa Fon. Crap, he didn’t rain on you the whole time, did he?”

“Nah, no, no.” I took a bite of s’more, the melted chocolate oozing from the sides. “‘E was jus’ geh’in started. Fel’ kin’a nice ac’ually.”

“That’s good. He’s a good kid. Bit of a wet blanket, you know? But his heart’s in the right place.” Summer pulled her marshmallow from the fire, producing another perfect gradient from white to tan.

“Yeah, he did seem to be a bit of a sad-sack. No offense.”

“None taken. Hey, you should meet his brother, Nâa rɔ́ɔn,” Summer took a swig if her beer. “Funny guy. Real dry sense of humor, y’know?”

“Really? Huh.”

“It’s hard, you know, for us in the tropics,” Summer took another swig of her beer. “In the temperate zones, Spring is Spring, Autumn is Autumn, etcetera, wherever you go. But the tropics vary depending where on the globe you are.” She sat back and sighed. “It’s a real high workload. So I can sorta forgive those guys for being the way they are.”

“Huh. That’s wild.” I drained my cider and tossed the bottle in a bucket full of empties.

Summer smiled and waved her beer back and forth.

“Ah, it’s an occupational hazard.”

She drained her own bottle and stood up. The fire had burned back to just glowing embers at the bottom of the pit now. It was still hot, but no longer provided much in the way of light. I speared another marshmallow, and held it over the embers. It started to puff up almost immediately.

“Hey man, this was fun. I’ll have to make s’mores next time I get together with my sisters.”

“Yeah! Let me know how that turns out.” I pulled the marshmallow from the fire. A perfect tawny brown. I poked at it with my finger. “Ah! Hot.”

“Ha! Sure thing. You have a good one.”

“You leaving?”

“In a sense,” she smiled, a smug, knowing smile. “It’s gonna be a while before you see my sister. Let’s just say that.”

“Yeah, you do like to hang around for a while, don’t you?”

“Hey man, so much to see, so much to do. There are beers to drink, barbecues to attend.” She gestured to the dying fire. “S’mores to make. Who wouldn’t want to stick around?”

“I guess I get that,” I teased the marshmallow, cooler now, off the fork and popped it in my mouth. Sometimes you just want a toasted marshmallow.

“Do you think you could cut it out with the humidity a little though?”

She laughed. “Hey man, I told you. Time and Place. We are what we are.”

She waved and faded from view, like a lingering sunset.

I stood up and went to get the hose that was hanging by the back door of my house. As I was spraying down the embers, I noticed that the air wasn’t quite so muggy as it had been. It would be easier to sleep tonight. I grinned at a passing firefly, who blinked slowly in return, then headed back inside the house.

*

Thailand

A perspective upon leaving

Thailand is a curious country. Steeped in tradition, yet embracing an ever encroaching modernity, it is at once both the ancient kingdom of Siam and a country that is rapidly becoming more than just a backpacker’s hot-spot.

This is most evident in Chiang Mai, a relatively small and laid-back city. Here you can still get a decent meal for under $5 and sample all the best Thailand has to offer (save for the stunning, picturesque beaches of the south). Temples are everywhere, Tuk-Tuks and scooters fill the streets and you can easily score a bargain at any one of the dozens of markets.

But whilst you turn your head one way and see street vendors and massage parlors, turn it the other way and you’ll come face to face with an ultra-modern Samsung Store. Cars are rapidly becoming as common as motor scooters, and cell phones are as prevalent here as in any western country. The cell service is pretty decent too.

Sure, people still live in crumbling old concrete apartments or, further out of the city, traditional wooden houses, but you are just as likely to run into an ultra-modern condo or boutique apartment block.

It is like a dimensional fracture; small areas where the reality of an old, well-worn city is being overwritten by a version of Chiang Mai that is sleek, modern and state of the art.

Bangkok is similar; as i said, it seems like there is a new shopping emporium or housing complex popping up on every other block. You would think there would be a saturation point; how many mega-malls can one city sustain? But for a city as large as Bangkok, and one that draws in as much business and wealth as it does, that point is still to be realized.

The thing about Thailand is that whilst it is only just now pulling itself into the modern world, it has the advantage of the modern technology that it can incorporate into itself as it does so. By contrast, a country like America, which became “modern” back in the middle of the 20th century, hasn’t kept up with advances, and so it’s infrastructure is aged; it cannot boast some of the modern conveniences that a city like Bangkok is already providing.

Of course, Thailand has the opposite problem; it is adding technology and services at such a rate that the infrastructure can’t keep up; giving rise to problems like Bangkok’s fearsome traffic congestion, or electrical systems that resemble a bowl of khao soi noodles.

Thailand can be considered a country of duality then, a country where Long Tail boats sail along side modern speed boats, Tuk Tuks putter along next to Grab (Thailand’s answer to Uber) Drivers in modern SUVs, where you can get a bowl of boat noodles for 12 baht (approx 30 cents), an hour massage for 300 baht ($10) and then stroll into an air conditioned mall and purchase a Rolex or the latest iPad. A country where you can go to the nearest Buddhist temple for blessings and prosperity, and then hop on their WiFi to check your emails.

And yet it all works. Thanks mostly to the apparent Thai attitude of “by any means”. This is seen in the street vendors, hawking their wares. The tuk-tuk and Long Tail drivers, touting for fares. (Indeed, any Thai driver; for to get behind the wheel in Thailand means to be prepared to do whatever it takes to get to your destination).

It is seen in the infrastructure, it is seen in the markets, it is seen in the cities. Whatever it takes to keep moving forward, the Thai’s will find a way.

So come, visit. Enjoy their hospitality, for they have lots of it. Take advantage of the low prices and beautiful scenery. Come sample the food, the markets, the night life.

But be quick. Because Thailand is moving steadily, and with determination. And it would be in our interests to keep up.

*

Krung Thep

“One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble…”

There’s a lot that Bangkok has in common with Los Angeles. The name, for starters. Although Bangkok’s true Thai name runs to about 168 letters, everyone knows it as Krung Thep; literally “The City of Angels.”

Both cities have large, diverse populations (Los Angeles at about 4 million, Bangkok decidedly denser at 10 million), and with that comes some crazy congestion. Both cities are infamous for their traffic problems (and consequently their air pollution); a result of rapid expansion and little city planning.

And of course that census doesn’t include the millions of visitors both cities attract from across the globe, both from tourism and from corporate ventures.

The main thing both cities have in common is their size; they are ridiculously massive. Los Angeles comes in at over 500 square miles; Bangkok a little larger at just over 600 square miles. It’s too much; I cannot wrap my head around a city that big, it becomes too unwieldy an entity.

As it so happens, I don’t really care for either city anyway. Too big, too many people, way too much traffic. Especially in Bangkok, where the rules of the road are taken as an advisory rather than cold law. We were walking to dinner tonight and there were dozens of motor scooters driving up on the sidewalk trying to bypass the gridlock on the road. And trying to cross the road? Let’s just say it’s a good job Bangkok is a city of Angels. You’ll need one.

Still, it is a vibrant, up-and-coming city with a deep, rich history. Everywhere there is development and new mega-malls, apartment complexes and corporate structures seem to be popping up on every other block. But there are still reminders of the city’s slightly grittier past, the red-light districts, the street food vendors, the massage parlors, the thousands of tuk-tuks. And beyond them, the vestiges of the Kingdom of Siam; the Grand Palace, The Temple of the Morning Light, The Giant Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho. And winding its way through it all, the Chao Phraya River; the ancient trade route between Asia and the rest of the world.

There is a lot to be said about Bangkok and, indeed, about Thailand itself. But I think I’ll leave that for another night.

For now, I’ll just leave you with Bangkok’s full name…

Krungthepmahanakhon Amonrattanakosin Mahintharayutthaya Mahadilokphop Noppharatratchathaniburirom Udomratchaniwetmahasathan Amonphimanawatansathit Sakkathattiyawitsanukamprasit.

Try saying that three times fast!

*

Random Haiku

It’s not the impact,

But the ripples spreading out

That entrances so.

*

Written whilst watching rain, stuck in traffic in Bangkok.

SCUBA

It’s a different world, beneath the waves. You descend slowly, air escaping from the Buoyancy Control Device (BCD) in a stream of bubbles, pausing every so often to equalize the pressure in your sinuses with a quick pinch to the nose and exhale.

The last time I went diving was in 2010 in Australia; almost ten years had gone by, but it was like riding a bike. I had obtained my Open Water Diver PADI back in 2006, and had used it several times in the following years; mostly in Thailand and in Australia. But then life got busy and the opportunities to go diving didn’t really come up that often.

But when my wife and family offered, for my birthday, to pay for a diving trip whilst we were in Thailand for my sister-in-law’s wedding, I jumped at the chance.

The dive trip set off from the floating pier in a Long Tail boat, one of those narrow wooden vessels where they mount a car engine on one end of a pole and a propeller on the other, and steer by swinging the pole. It was a half-day fun trip, just myself, a couple doing a training dive and two instructors.

There had been a storm forecast, but the skies were blue and the sea was gentle. My instructor and I dropped into the sea on one side of a small island, and descended down to about 18 meters below the surface. Down there you aren’t buffeted by the waves and the currents are gentle. We started out in the “muck”, a desolate flat area that, nevertheless, had an interesting array of life. From Longfin Bannerfish to nudibranch and several crabs, there is a lot to see if you know where to look.

As we got closer to the island, the coral reefs sprang up. Along with an abundance of boating, careless tourism, and general pollution; my instructor had told me that the big tsunami of 2004 had devastated the reefs and they were only just in the last 4 or 5 years starting to properly re-establish themselves. Coral Reefs are incredibly delicate eco-systems that take years to grow and do not suffer punishment easily.

But, despite their poor health, they were an abundance of life. I’m not even going to begin to list all the things I saw down there, but highlights included Eels, stingray, box fish, puffer fish, a rare pipefish, and shoals of fusiliers; literal walls of fish.

Life is so alien down there, like the weird, ethereal jellyfish, or the strange razor fish that swim in formation, their heads pointed down. Or even the bizarre megafauna that is coral itself; colonies of millions of tiny little creatures that bind together to create domes, tubes, tendrils, to resemble plants or resemble nothing at all. The peculiar sea urchins, that just look like balls of spikes. And in between, fish of every shape and size and color.

And in between it all is yourself, a giant, lumbering, ungainly shape. Truly it is you who is the alien here, the air-breather floating in between walls of coral, a leviathan in their micro-world.

Sensation is muted here. Sound is dulled, more vibration than anything else, save for the rushing air passing through the rebreather and the escaping plume of bubbles. Colours are muted too, and visibility reduced. The water is warm, comfortable and apart from the near constant taste of salt in your mouth, you almost forget it’s there at all. You become an entity unto yourself, a self-contained world observing the greater world around it. You are (almost) alone with your thoughts. And yet your every breath takes new significance; not only because this once taken-for-grantees resource has become limited and finite, but also because the very act of breathing alters your buoyancy. A sudden wrong move, too deep or too shallow and breath and you could go crashing into the reef, destroying habitats and killing the very coral itself.

And so, by necessity, you live in the moment. Every breath is calculated, every movement is considered. Your senses are focused on both the majesty that surrounds you and on your very being itself. It is both at once enlightened tranquility and a crushing, exhausting trial of mind and body.

We return to the surface slowly, pausing at 5 meters depth for our bodies to reacclimatize to the surface pressure. When we finally break the surface of the sea, the world comes crashing back; sound and air and colour. It is a relief to be free from the crushing grip of the mask, to be free of the rubber bit of the mouthpiece. But also a shame to be leaving that world of alien majesty, that riot of movement and rich, intense life behind.

But only for a minute. A bottle of water, some pineapple and a quick change of dive site later, and off we go again!

I love diving, especially here in the warm waters around the west coast of Thailand. And I hope it won’t be almost ten years before I descend to the depths once more.

*

Friday Night Haiku #37

A stiff ocean breeze,

The sun sets over the sea,

My beer gently sweats.

*

Rules for navigating Chaing Mai’s roads

*smacks you* THERE ARE NO RULES, FOOL! IT’S EVERY PERSON FOR THEMSELVES!

*achem*

Helpful hints and Tips for navigating Chiang Mai’s roads.

• Thai’s drive on the left (mostly) like most civilized countries do, so remember that when crossing the street.
• Actually, crossing the street is just one big gamble, probably better not to risk it.
• Mopeds/motor-scooters/small motorbikes are everywhere (and I mean everywhere.) Be mindful of your surroundings.
• If you need to get around the city you can catch a Tuk-Tuk, or, better yet, hail down one of the thousands of Red Trucks. For a flat rate fee of 30 baht (about 1 US Dollar) per person, they will take you anywhere you wish to go.
• Traffic lights are generally obeyed, but be wary.
• If you choose to rent a moped etc, you’re on your own.

*

Walking with Elephants

Today we all headed up to the mountains to visit the Blue Daily Elephant Care Sanctuary. It’s kind of a cliché to go visit Elephants when you visit Thailand, but when you consider the sort of lives the average elephant has had in Thailand up until very recently, along with the sheer charisma and majesty of the creatures themselves, then any fear of being a cliche becomes irrelevant. (Or should that be “irrelephant”?)

Example: the first elephant we met today was a 2 month old infant called Maya, and her 18-year old mother. Despite only being 2 months old, Maya already weighs over 300 lbs and is as capable with her trunk as any adult. (Although She has no teeth yet, so cannot handle solid food…much like a human baby!)

There is a disconnect between the rambunctious, innocent play of an infant when coupled with a creature that can knock down a full size adult human if they’re not paying attention; but it is a disconnect made of awe and wonder.

We spent the rest of the day feeding and walking with the 6-strong herd, headed up by a big bull. Asian Elephants are smaller than their African counterparts, but no less impressive, especially when you stand next to one. Their thick, calloused skin is covered by dense, springy hair, and they are covered in mud, which the elephants cover themselves with both as a cooling measure and as sun-block. They are curious and inquisitive, but also as ready to be fed as any livestock or household pet.

Our afternoon excursion took us to a small waterfall where we bathed the herd. Another moment of wonder, to see these giant beasts frolic and splash like a group of kids at the pool. One of the younger elephants, a four month old, would fully submerge herself and then pop up behind one of the adults. It was startling to have this large mass suddenly erupt from the depths less than two feet away from you.

When they were done bathing the elephants hauled themselves up onto the bank to reapply a coating of mud. Whilst they were doing this we explored and bathed in the river ourselves. The water was cool and refreshing, and it felt nice to just be there in the river, bathing as people have done for thousands of years. (Although there was a fair amount of mud in the river from recent rains, so the visibility was nil…so there was no way of telling what might lurking in the plunge pools!)

After we returned to the camp, we fed the elephants again and then headed back to town, exhausted from the long day and exercise up in the mountains.

Elephants in South East Asia were extensively used in lieu of heavy machinery, particularly in the logging industry. When the government cracked down on logging, a lot of elephants and their handlers (Mahouts) were in need of employment. So they turned to tourism, giving foreigners rides, putting on shows and more. In both logging and tourism the methods of breaking an elephant in to respond to commands has traditionally been cruel and barbaric. In the last 10-20 years or so, however, there has been a push to rehabilitate old working elephants and to re-educate the Mahouts in their methods. There are now several Elephant Sanctuaries where the emphasis is on allowing elephants to live natural lives; but under controlled conditions. Wild Elephants can be destructive pests to farms; sanctuaries allow these ravenous beasts to be fed and exercised without being the destructive forces of nature they are capable of being. The Eco-Tourism such Sanctuaries generate help sustain the communities around them, and the Elephants get to lead a more relaxed existence, protected from those who want their ivory or wish to continue illegal logging.

You cannot help but be enraptured by these gentle giants; their inquisitiveness and charisma make them seem very people-like.

Thomas, for one, was a bit overwhelmed by the Elephants, not so sure about getting close to them, but he petted a couple of them, and he helped to feed them. I am glad he got the opportunity to spend time with these amazing animals, even if he might not fully remember the experience when he is older.

It was a special experience, albeit an exhausting one; we were all quite worn out by the time we got back on the bus and most of us slept on the way back to Chiang Mai!!

If you do ever visit Thailand, please consider visiting one of the Elephant Sanctuaries to both educate yourself and experience these magnificent animals in their natural environment. A happy elephant truly is a sight to behold.

*

*

Sweat

There is a certain quality to the humidity in Asia. It’s very distinctive, though I’m not sure I could tell you why. Maybe it’s an atmospheric thing, or a geographic thing. It’s a sort of smell, or a particular kind of sensation. I’m not sure I could really explain it, or even if it’s just something im making up in my head. But when I disembarked off the plane at Narita airport and the wall of humidity hit me I thought “yup. I’m in Asia.”

Sorry for being offline for a few days folks (any of you who noticed/cared). Long distance travel does a real number on me physically and also really skews my perception of time.

I am in Thailand for a couple weeks to attend my sister-in-law’s wedding. It is the Ultimate destination wedding; we are literally on the other side of the world from home right now, you almost can’t get any further away without leaving the planet.

And of course we brought Thomas with us. On the one hand I am excited for him to experience new places and cultures, but on the other hand, my son is developing into a creature of routine and schedule and nothing completely destroys a schedule like long distance travel.

Out first flight was from DC to Tokyo; approximately 14 hours. That’s rough on most people. For an almost-two year old, that’s a nightmare. We booked him his own seat, and he slept a little, but Thomas is pretty big for his age and, like his old man, not really the right size or shape for being crammed into an economy seat for most of a day.

Still, apart from one meltdown in the middle of the flight, he managed to hold his own, Thanks in no small part to repeated viewings of Moana and Daniel Tiger, and regular snacks.

A short layover in Tokyo was followed by an 8 hour flight to Bangkok. At this point I don’t even know what day it was, and I’m pretty sure I had less than 2 hours sleep in the previous 24.

Fortunately we had a hotel booked for the night, and we slept pretty soundly, apart from Thomas waking up screaming at 3:30 am, probably because it was dark and he didn’t know where he was.

The next day was a quick hop up to Chiang Mai and the rest of the day was spent chilling at the guest-house waiting for the rest of Megan’s family to arrive.

I might go more into my thoughts and impressions of Thailand in another post (it is one of my favourite countries to visit), but for now I will say that I am exhausted, and it is Humid.

The first is because of jet lag, both my own and Thomas’ (he woke up screaming again last night and was inconsolable for hours. Eventually snacks and Daniel Tiger won him over. I wonder if the creators understand how important their show is to people.) Also our exotic English Blood is very enticing to the mosquitos here, I got lit up at breakfast and Thomas is getting bitten to buggery too. He’s napping with the help of some Benedryl at the moment, but the bites aren’t helping his mood.

However, as long as there are places to go and sights to see, he is happy. Hopefully we’ll get his sleep schedule settled quickly. All things considered, he is doing remarkably well with the jet lag and new environs. I think being a traveler is in his blood. He comes by it honestly, at any rate.

What he does enjoy is being in our child-Carrier. We bought one in lieu of a stroller (Thailand isn’t really stroller-friendly) and he’s quite happy to be strapped in and hauled around on my back. He attracts a lot of attention from the locals (the Thais love kids) and I think he enjoys that too, to some extent. For my part, I like having him in it too, though it does mean I’m hauling around 30lbs all day, and as I said, it is very humid, so before long I am sweating like a sinner in church. On the bright side, however, this will help me lose a little weight, hopefully.

Just loving life over here.

Well, that’s enough from me today. Stay tuned for more Thai adventures.

*

Barge

The Chao Phraya River stretched from Nakhon Sawan, where it emerged from the confluence of the Ping and Nan Rivers, all the way down to Bangkok and out into the Gulf of Thailand. It was one of Thailand’s main arterial waterways and, despite advances in both road and rail transportation, was still a critical cargo route. Large Barges could tie up direct to the great cargo vessels in Bangkok Harbor and then transport anything and everything up River to the Northern Provinces, and back again. Often a single tug would tow several large barges at once; a train of large floating vessels providing a vital chain of commerce to the peoples of Thailand.

He had chartered space on one of the barges headed up-river, that had been the easy part. The hard part had been trying to convince his giant robotic companion to use it. Her usual arguments of “flying would be quicker” were shot down by his usual arguments of “trying to keep a low profile”. When she countered with the argument that she could travel under the water and still be there in a fraction of the time, he had argued, successfully, that neither of them knew the way, and navigating under the water would be more difficult. She had begrudgingly conceded the point and had agreed to be “shipped” north. He was satisfied; in truth, he had wanted to spend some time and take in the sights and sounds of this beautiful country on their journey. He was in no particular hurry to get to their next destination.

The journey out of Bangkok had been slow, marred by heavy traffic, but once they were clear of the city, the pace picked up a bit. The Barge Train was both home and workplace to several families, all of whom were fascinated by this foreigner and his unusual cargo. The children especially took interest, several times a day they would come whooping and hollering along gangplanks and over rope bridges strung between the barges, to gawk and stare at the giant doll-like machine and, once the alien AI had picked up enough of the language to converse, to ask all sorts of questions. Where they came from, where they were going, what was space like, what their favourite foods were…anything and everything. Both Man and Robot tolerated them with good humor and answered what questions they could.

The man in charge of the Train was called Kob, or at least, that was what everyone called him. He was a small, portly man with thick muscular arms and an easy smile. He spoke English almost fluently, which was a great relief to the Man, as his Thai was rudimentary at best.

He was leaning on the railing of the front barge, watching the world slide by, when Kob strolled on up to him.

“Sawat-dee kráp, Khun Ek.” Kob greeted him, using the nickname they had given him. “Khun Ek” – the Main Man. Or, depending on how you read it, “Mr. X”.

“Sahwhat de crap Kob,” he replied, mangling the accent.

“How did you sleep?”

“Pretty well actually.” This was true. Although there wasn’t much room on the barge (they typically didn’t take on passengers), a space had been found for him in one of the aft cabins of the barge he had chartered space on. A simple mattress had been given to him (along with a mosquito net) which wasn’t much, but compared to some of the places he had slept since embarking on this journey with his companion, it was like a four star hotel.

“I am glad to hear it. It will be several days before we reach your destination; you must rest whilst you can!”

“I feel like I’m taking up space. Are you sure there isn’t anything I could help out with?”

“You have already paid your passage, and there isn’t much an unskilled hand could contribute to. Maybe I could convince my wife to let you help preparing the dinner!”

“Ha, maybe.”

They were silent for a moment, just listening to the chug-chug-chug of the Tug as it strained against the flow of the water. Several weeks of rain prior had swollen the river, and they were trying to pull several heavily laden barges against the strong flow. The going was, needless to say, slow.

The barge shifted and the head of his companion popped up from inside the hold. Perched on her shoulder was a small child, a girl of about 5 or 6.

“What city is that?” The robot asked, indicating the large urban center on the West Bank.

“Ayutthaya!” The young girl cried out.

“That’s right Lek!” Kob smiled. “That is Ayutthaya, one of the ancient capitals of Siam. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, because of all the ancient prang towers and wat ruins of the old city. It is an island formed by the Chao Phraya and Pa Sak rivers. It is very beautiful city, you must go some time.”

“Aw. I want to see the ruins.” His companion sighed. “Could have got a great view if we had flown by.” She continued, pointedly emphasizing the word.

“Yup. Would have got a great view of the Thai Air Force chasing us all the way to the gulf. Besides, why would you want to miss out on the river experience?”

“That’s easy to say from the deck.”

Kob laughed. “It is as we like to say, Tukta: “dai yang, sia yang”,”

The robot cocked her head.

“”lose something, gain something”? Am I translating that right?”

“Close enough. You lose your freedom of movement but you gain security, peace of mind. The river. You would not experience it like this any other way.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Kob shrugged. “Give it time.”

The Man was about to say something when the barge shuddered, and there was a large clanging, crunching sound from the front of the train. And then: silence.

Kob stood up straight, cursing in Thai.

“That is not a good sound.”

He snatched a short-range radio from his belt and said a few terse words into it. The reply was frantic, stressed. Kob took off in the direction of the Tug. He followed, noting as he did that the cityscape had started to pass them by in the opposite direction. The whole train was being forced backwards by the flow of the river.

“What’s wrong?!” He shouted.

“Engine blew! We lost propulsion!” Kob was already skillfully crossing the ropes to the tug, shooting into his radio all the while.

“Damn. We could lose days at this rate.”

“Not to mention,” his companion added, rising up slightly higher from the hold, “We now have a run-away barge train on a major traffic river. Even if we don’t hit any other boats, colliding with the bank could be catastrophic.”

He looked up at her.

“Is there anything you could do?”

“I could try to stabilize the train, keep it from floating backwards. But…”

“But what?”

“It won’t be very “low-key.””

He frowned. He had been doing so well to keep under the radar. Ever since that altercation over the Atacama Trench he had been ultra careful to avoid run-ins with the authorities.

“Or I guess we could just let them anchor the barges. That would be the safest thing, though there is no guarantee when we’ll get moving get again.” She shrugged, almost unseating the small child still sitting there.

He sighed. “Do it. I was hoping to take my time, but we can’t afford to waste it.”

“Agreed. Tell Kob not to drop the anchors.”

She gently cupped the small child in her hand, lay her on the deck, and then stood to her full height. He was already making his way to the front, so he didn’t see her long “hair” extend out to either side of her, glowing and whirring slightly as the anti-gravity drives built in to the two “pigtails” sprang to life.

“Kob! Kob!” He had almost fallen in to the river trying to cross over to the tug, and was shaking from the effort.

Kob glared at him uncharacteristically.

“Not allowed on the Tug, please go back.” He replied, his English faltering.

“Please, don’t drop the anchors. My friend will try to pull us.”

Kob looked confused, then surprised and startled as the large shape of the robot glided over the top of the tug, reached down to grab a tow rope from the deck, and then took up a position ahead of the train. The radio was shouting, a cacophony of different voices from all over the barge train. Kob shouted something in Thai, and then looked at the man.

“Can she do it?”

The man shrugged.

“She’ll try!”

His companion took in the slack and then started to pull. He could feel the wind of the thrust produced by her anti-gravity drive units, accompanied by a high-pitch whine and a faint roar of rushing air. The tug creaked under the strain, and he could feel the whole train shudder. He glanced over at the river bank. It was still moving in the wrong direction. It was getting awfully close too.

The radio crackled, and he could hear his companion’s voice on it.

“It’s no good. The flow of the river combined with the mass of the train is too much. I can’t produce enough thrust.”

He glanced at Kob.

“May I?” He nodded and passed the radio over.

“Are you at maximum?”

“No. But I’d risk tearing the Tug apart if I was.”

“I guess that’s that then. Good effort kid, but I guess we’ll be stuck here for a while.”

“There is another thing I could try. But it’s…”

“What?”

“Really not subtle.”

He sighed. “I think it might be a bit late for that. What was it? “dai yang, sia yang.””

“What is she going to do? I am going to have to drop anchors very shortly.” Kob asked.

“I’m not sure. But I trust her.”

“I hope that trust is well founded.”

He looked at the Thai man, his face resolute. “It is.”

His companion has abandoned her tow rope and maneuvered behind the tug.

“Let our more line!” She called over the radio.

Kob signaled to the bridge, and the heavy winches unspooled more rope. She wrapped the excess line around her torso in a makeshift harness. Then she did something he had never seen before. Her pigtails cracked open along seams that, up until this point, had been invisible to the naked eye. From within the “hair”, a bright blue glow could be seen. It was getting brighter as the seams grew wider, but before it became blinding, she had sunk beneath the surface. The water was cloudy, muddy, with limited visibility. All he could see was the bright blue glow of her twin tails.

There was a sudden clang and the tug shook. He peered over the side. He couldn’t see anything, just the glow.

All off a sudden the whole train shifted, and he was thrown off his feet.

“Did we hit the bank?!” He shouted.

“No!” Kob replied, pointing. He looked up and saw that the city of Ayutthaya was once again passing them in the right direction. He glanced into the water. There was a twin plume of bubbles shooting out from underneath the Tug, like a jet ski, only larger, and accompanied by a pulsing blue light.

He spoke into the radio.

“You were right kid…not very subtle at all. What are you doing?”

“Over-clocking my AG units. I’m using the water as both a propellant and a cooling measure. It’s not very efficient, but we are moving in the right direction I assume?”

“Yes. Nice work.”

“Thanks. I have no idea where we are going, so tell Kob that his pilot is going to have to steer like normal.”

“Will do.”

“One more thing. I can only keep this up for a short period of time. Current models are suggesting I can run at this level for 148 minutes. After that my AG will burn out and it’ll take significant time for the repair system to get them operational again.”

“I’ll see what we can do about getting the tug running again.”

“Thank you,”

He waited a moment.

“So what’s it look like down there.”

“I can’t see a damn thing. I wish I was back on the barge.”

“I don’t want to say I told you so but…”

“Then don’t. Just get that Tug fixed.” She snapped back, not unkindly.

“I’m on it.” He signed off with a chuckle.

He tossed the radio back to Kob.

“Tukta is very impressive. I, too, am wondering why you didn’t just let her take you to your destination. It would have been a lot quicker.” Kob told him, eyes wide.

“Well, it’s as you said Kob. We wouldn’t be able to experience the river any other way.”

“That is very true, Khun Ek. Very true indeed.”

The Barge Train continued on its way north, a lively convoy of commerce and community heading for the northern provinces the way it had been for generations. Except this time, the locals noted, the Tug had had some kind of neon LCD system to it’s hull since they last saw it. It shone, bright and blue, like a Bangkok nightclub, pulsing in the deep waters of the Chao Phraya.

*