Thailand!

After unloading my gear at the hotel and showering off the days grit I still had a few hours of sunlight to explore the small city of Satun in S.W. Thailand. It is the landing point for the ferry from Langkawi Island and the old section of town where I'm staying is crumbling, quiet and rustically quaint near a bend in a river. Stripped bare, my bike seems to float with almost effortless pedal strokes down the narrow moped choked streets. Although the area is still predominantly Muslim, I'm starting to see more random Buddhist shrines standing on posts in front of homes like gilded, ornate mailboxes. Buddha mail, full of prayers, delivered on the smoke of incense to the whole world. I pass a school that is spilling its students out onto the street. All girls and they sparkle in their uniforms. Some look like girlscouts in that green polyester not-quite-military style shirt and shorts...patch on breast pocket included. Other girls are wearing immaculate white button up shirts and bright blue skirts. They all yell "Hello!" as I pass and laugh at my "Hello" in response.
The black clouds ahead are rapidly approaching and as the first dime sized drops fall I realize I have mis-timed this ride. Two minutes later I'm sitting under an awning which is a snack shop for the after school crowd. The sky has unloaded like I've never seen. It's not pouring, it's waterfalling. A solid sheet of water, like a pane of glass, is hanging from the edge of the awning. As I try to order a cold drink I begin to understand that Thailand will be more challenging to travel through than Malaysia. I speak absolutely no Thai and down here no one has bothered with English either. I point to a bright green syrup sitting on the counter, then to a bucket of ice and then to the blender. Blank stare. The womans daughter offers assistance and after a performance of blending an icee/slurpee/margarita that Marcel Marceau would have been proud of (I even added blender sound effects), I ended up with a coke on ice. When I finished my coke and got up the nerve to try again, I barely discerned the word capuccino and eagerly said yes. As I watched the nescafe hit the ice cubes in the blender I imagined the frapuccino I would soon enjoy. When the drink came, the grape flavored bubble tea sized tapioca balls at the bottom were a bit of a surprise. And while not totally horrid, I thought that this should never be attempted at home. It was while I was chewing my capuccino that the terrorists showed up.
People had been warning me about S. Thailand and the islamic separatists since Singapore. Over the past few years bombs have been going off sporadically as well as targeted shootings. A few tourists have been killed accidentally by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Thai government has responded in a typical heavy-handed way and the violence continues although in limited areas. So I was surprised, after only four hours in the country, of running into trouble. But here they came...the little shop was suddenly rushed by 8 or so eleven year old girls dripping wet and crowding around me pointing and laughing. They were enjoying the odd sight of a farang on this tiny side street and the opportunity to practice any English phrase they could remember. From "What is your name" to "I love you" the conversation moved briskly from the mundane to the intensely personal. What really made them howl, jump into the rain, or literally fall into the river of the street, however, was having me repeat sentences in Thai. God only knows what I was saying but the bubble-tea-capuccino maker was laughing just as hard as the girls. After many breakdowns of language, and comprehension, the girls told me that they all drive mopeds. As I looked at them, smirking incredulously, a little kid not quite tall enough to sit up straight on the seat came blowing by on one and popped an unstable wheelie as all the girls screamed their approval. Pouring rain, slippery flooded streets, no helmet, child driver...no worries. Suddenly Malaysia seemed like Peoria. The girls, after exhausting their English phrases, including counting to 10 in both languages, all said goodbye a hundred times each and headed out hand in hand into the pouring rain. The shopkeeper overcharged me for the drinks and I headed back to the hotel not quite sure what to think about the place I'm going to be for the next 2 months.