By now, I'd have expected to be somewhere in Cambodia, having traveled throughout Laos over the past couple days; I'd be on my way to Vietnam afterwards without a care. Pretty straightforward.
Then fate coughed, or tripped, or flatulated, or something equally negatively-toned, undermining my carefully-laid plans; arrival in a small town in northern Thailand was followed by a sudden realization that my VISA credit card was missing. Houston, we have a problem.
Houston had plenty of resources to fix their problems. Me, I had about sixty Baht (a little under two U.S. dollars) in my wallet, and absolutely no clue what to do. I'd met an Aussie guy on the way over, and he graciously let me use his phone, with which I informed VISA of the situation. They promised to send an emergency replacement card, which, I was told, would arrive Monday. It was Thursday night when I made the call; I'd have to spend three days surviving on 60 Baht if I was gonna pull it off. With little choice, I agreed.
The next several days were nothing short of miserable, with events transpiring to confound my every move. My last real meal had been a breakfast on Thursday morning, before leaving Chiang Mai; I wandered through Chiang Rai without a map or a clue, trying to figure out what I was going to do. The money would disappear quickly, I knew, and I'd have to plan wisely. My first thought was a wire transfer through a Western Union bank. With this in mind, I headed for the bank. There, I was informed of the process, but by the time I'd gotten on the internet and gotten the ball rolling, the bank had closed. The hours on the door were listed as 8:30 am to 4 pm. I decided to find a place to sleep and come back first thing in the morning.
After the internet cost and purchasing a slice of banana bread to sustain me for the day, I found shelter under a small pavilion on the outskirts of town, stretched out on the wooden bench, and went to sleep. It was surprisingly comfortable.
I showed up at the Bank the next morning, only to find it closed - the bank hours, I realized, were Monday through Friday. I was wandering in the scorching heat trying to figure out what to do, when a much graver thought occurred to me: Monday was the first day of the Thai New Year. The Songkran Festival, an annual tradition, would last three full days, during which everything would be closed - most notably, banks and post office systems. My heart sank at the realization. Hunger was tearing at my stomach; I reflected on the fact that I'd planned on being in Chiang Rai for one night, and I'd probably end up staying for at least a week.
I sat down on a bench outside a small bookstore and pulled out a small packet of EasyMac, left over from grocery shopping in Australia. I soaked the noodles in a canteen, poured cheese on top, and ate them cold, with the foil package as a bowl and the empty cheese container as a spoon. It was cold and disgusting, but to my empty stomach it was a steak dinner. I walked away feeling greatly refreshed.
By Saturday night I was in a hopeless spot. My last Baht had gone towards more internet, to follow up on the money wiring situation, and to a bottle of water (I was severely dehydrated.) I observed weekend-market stalls being assembled along the road; crowds were starting to show up. And at that moment, sitting on the steps of Bangkok Bank of Chiang Rai, I had one of the better ideas of my life.
I tuned up my guitar, which had been sitting idly next to me, regarded as an annoying piece of luggage to haul through the heat on an empty stomach, and situated myself on an empty portion of curb. I flipped my hat upside down and started playing and singing. (Those who know me know I can't sing at all, which goes to show just how desperate I really was.) Either I'm a much better singer than I thought I was, or God was answering my many prayers (I suspect that latter) because within a half an hour of playing, I had collected over 400 Baht in my hat. I was absolutely stunned. I packed everything up and ten minutes later, I'd located a cheap guesthouse for only 90 Baht a night. And the owner graciously offered to let me just run up a tab there - meals included - and pay it off when I had the money. No more sleeping in the street, which was a huge relief.
Moreover, the hotel was across the street from a Christian church, so I was able to attend Easter services. That was awesome. I didn't understand a word of the message, as it was in Thai, but the pastor seated me next to a guy who spoke enough English to make himself understood, and I was, through him, given enough information to follow what was going on. (In a strange twist of fate, it came out in conversation that his daughter attends UNC Chapel Hill. When he told me, I said "Tarheels National Champions" and he nodded vigorously, smiling broadly and giving me a thumbs-up.)
So the last five days have been massively stressful, and I'm still not out of the woods. I have to procure a visa to Vietnam, which costs about one hundred U.S. dollars, and takes several days to process. Moreover, I've got to schedule a flight to Hanoi, the city from which my plane to the Philippines departs - another one hundred dollars. I don't know if my credit card is actually going to arrive ( I had to send it to a post office, for lack of permanent address) and I'll need enough cash from getting wire transfers to last me the next two weeks, until I can get a more permanent place in Manila. Just thinking about it is giving me a headache.
But there's good news! I decided to give a shot at more guitar-playing, and set up last night in Chiang Rai's night bazaar. I used the same method, overturning my hat, tuning up, and belting out as many tunes as I knew. Cat Stevens, Green Day, Coldplay, Switchfoot, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer, The Eagles, Smashmouth... you name it. I also played some catchy chord combinations and made up words to sing along, knowing nobody would know the difference:
Won't you goooooooooooooooo
With meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
If you don't you'll never know
Why there's a pineapple tree
Other such nonsense came out, but it turned out to be a good idea. It saved my from repeating myself ad nauseum and kept a steady flow of cash. At one point a missionary visiting from Miami to work in an orphanage showed up and talked to me for a while, which was immensely encouraging. He prayed over me as well, an effort which was not without significant effect; when I returned to my room three hours later, fingers worn to the bone, I counted my earnings.
Just short of 2000 Baht.
I was completely stunned; I hadn't expected a haul anywhere near that large. And though the next several days are rather tentative in terms of timing, I plan to milk the street performances for all they're worth, hopefully earning enough to pay for my visa to Vietnam by tomorrow.
More info coming, as it comes to me.
Left to right: Chiang Rai Night Bazaar where I played my guitar sets; the hotel room I stayed in for two weeks.
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