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…dancing with the devil in the city of angels…

~ Ramblings, Rumblings and Travel Tales: Bangkok and Beyond

…dancing with the devil in the city of angels…

Monthly Archives: July 2011

Bangkok Smells

31 Sunday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Thailand Travel Tips and Tales, Tips

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bangkok, Markets & Shopping

bangkok smells

The aroma of countless streetside cooking fires adds to Bangkok’s unique scent.

Those of us who have been visiting Bangkok for a few decades often reminisce about the good old days and the things we miss about the Big Mango. And bitch about the changes we are not thrilled with. Gone are many of the bars that used to thrill; a bit of naughtiness as opposed to today’s explicit shows is missed by many. Twilight’s 10 pm naked gogo boy dancing always packed the house and is an event that stirs memories in many of us, too. Favorite shops and restaurants, the nonstop deluge of smiling locals, cheaper prices . . . all gone, all pleasures of the past, all missed. Even as pleased as I am with the BTS, I miss the open air along Sukhumvit, now a dark area of shadows thanks to the elevated Skytrain line.

But then bitching about what is no longer there is one of the joys of repeat visits to any locale. It’s almost as satisfying as fondly recalling pleasant memories. At the same time, some changes are for the good. Some things are not missed. And one of those, for me, is the stench of Bangkok’s streets.

Don’t take that as a positive comment about the city’s current air quality. It still stinks. Just not as much. In days gone by, as soon as you deplaned at the old Don Muang airport, the bouquet of Bangkok hit you like festering roadkill on a hot summer day. Smack in the middle of a busy international airport, the air should have been heavy with the scent of jet fuel and diesel fumes tinged with a faint whiff of burnt rubber. But those smells could not compete with the overarching aroma of Bangkok. The smell of Thailand’s capital city was too powerful, too oppressive. Airport smells never stood a chance.

Eau de Bangkok was a memorable odor. Combining the very worse Asia has to offer, it attacked the senses, an onslaught bloody enough to make a grown man cry, or at least foul enough to make a grown man’s eyes water. There was no escaping the city’s divergent odors; the sweet perfume of plumeria, the heady scent of incense from the thousands of shrines and temples, the reek of the river and canals that form an important part of the city’s transportation system (as well as a major part of its sewer system), the aroma of street side cooking on every block, weird tropical fruit that smelled as if someone had died beneath its skin, and the fragrance typical of a bustling Asian City overflowing with humanity and its offal. The aroma of Bangkok was a physical presence. It lodged in your throat like a pig wallowing in yesterday’s slop.

thai candles and incense

Cheap wax candles and inscene to make merit and to add yet another note to the essence of Bangkok

Each morning in the shower was a personal one-on-one experience with the city’s essence; you’d hack up a large glob of the atmosphere you’d inhaled the previous day. And hoped it swirled down the drain instead of growing legs and climbing the walls to attack. Yes, thanks for the memories . . . that glob of mucus made a return trip daily, and for weeks after returning home. You may have left your heart in San Francisco but Bangkok hitched a ride home in your lungs. The only way to rid your olfactory senses of Bangkok’s pervasive scents was a quick trip to Hong Kong and a slow walk past any of the open-air meat stalls of Kowloon. Then, Bangkok never smelled as sweet.

Thanks to the hunk of aromas the city was known for, scented items were, and still are, available everywhere. Incense and candles to perfume the air; soaps, lotions, and colognes were readily available to make sure people didn’t think that stench was wafting off of you. A plethora of scented items and scents to wear were on display at every store and at every street market. Shops at the airport fill their counters with fragrant merchandise. Every upscale mall had small boutiques specializing in various brands of aromatherapy for your home, body, and soul. The city doesn’t smell as bad as it once did, but every trip I make, there are more new brands of scented merchandise to sniff. Everywhere you look, fragrances are for sale. Thais love smelly stuff. Even if their town doesn’t reek as badly as it once did.

Though Thais tend to bathe a dozen times a day, cologne has always been a de rigueur part of their after-bath regime. You’d think their collective consciousness would advise drenching oneself in a scent to ward off the surrounding smells of the town, but instead locals fail to make the mistake so many Westerners indulge in. A spritz or two does the job, a light application to delicately tickle the noise is the norm. Thais know you do not use cologne to mask smells, you use it to add to your aura. Too many Western visitors think the bottle of cologne they just bought is a valid substitution for a shower. Please, take a hint. The gallon of Channel you bathed in is an offensive smell and is worse than the aroma of meat ripening in Kowloon’s sun; a personal scent should be noticed when within its wearer’s personal space, not from down the street.

patpong late night snacks

One of Bangkok’s nighttime aromas: air-dried fish and meat you should not attempt to identify.

Some personal fragrances are more appropriate for hot climes, while others are better suited for colder areas. Perfumes with a note of citrus are lively, refreshening, and the right choice for Bangkok’s hot and humid weather. Even some masculine scents, like sandalwood, are a good choice; a tinge of the exotic that still leaves a clean and fresh smell. One of my favorite is lemongrass. It too speaks of the exotic, and couples a hint of citrus with its slightly tangy aroma. I’ve found a version in shampoo available at Watson’s that I stock up on every trip. It’s refreshing to use both as a shampoo and body wash. And it’s one of those scents that immediately elicits visions of Thailand in my mind. In a good way.

My friend Noom, like most Thais, loves smelly stuff. So we often hit specialty shops at the malls when out shopping for the day. Even when it is a place we’ve visited before, he carefully sniffs every single scent before deciding on one: the same cologne he always buys. He too used to prefer lemongrass fragrances. Then, one day at a shop in Central World, a clerk told us Thais do not like lemongrass for a personal scent because it smells like food to them; they cook too many dishes that use lemongrass as flavoring. Now he avoids that fragrance and always repeats the clerk’s opinion as gospel. I still like the scent, and buy it. Whether it causes him to sniff me or eat me makes no difference in my book.

One of my favorite stalls at Chatuchak is an aromatherapy place. They’ve dressed it up like a London apothecary, and all the clerks wear white aprons. It’s really far too upscale for the Weekend Market, both in ambiance and price. But it is air-conditioned and makes for a refreshing stop, a cool little oasis to dodge the oppressive heat and crowds, if only for a few minutes. Noom likes the place too. Not because it’s a good shop to cool down in, but because he knows he’ll get to pick out an item or two and his ‘loom’ will smell like a garden of earthy delights for the next few weeks.

Cutting through Gaysorn Plaza to get to the BTS on a recent trip, just before exiting the building onto the elevated walkway, I noticed a new restaurant had opened its doors. The walls and ceiling were festooned with beige colored leaves and vines, a forest of cardboard cut out greenery. It was an enticing decor, different enough I had to pop in for a closer look. There were no customers, but lots of staff, and they were happy that I’d come in even if it wasn’t for a meal. Perhaps they realized that they were never gonna get rich off the menu, because they also had a small area devoted to scented merchandise. Which, of course, drew me in after the initial cool decor did its job.

A knowledgeable clerk was on-hand. That he was a cute little gay boy made me more susceptible to listening to his spiel. That the brand they’d decided to carry was Thann, one of my favorites, didn’t hurt either. Thann offers a line of personal products, shampoos, washes, soaps, and various lotions and creams, in several different scents including a lemongrass based scent called Oriental Essence. It’s pretty good. They add a bit of lime that gives it a special zing. They also market under the Harnn brand and their line of Oriental Herbs fragrance, also a lemongrass based scent, is divine; earthy, refreshing, masculine, and redolent of the scents of a tropical garden. It’s even better than the Thann brand. More expensive, too. All the scents in both brands are well done, though I’m not a real fan of a few of them. And neither brand could be called cheap. A bottle of shampoo alone will run you about $12.

As a reward for the clerk’s help, friendly service, cuteness, and superior taste in preferring men, I’d decide to buy a few different concoctions of the lemongrass products. But he, possibly also thinking it smelled too much like food, was busy singing the praises of a new scent the company offered: Aromatic Woods, a heady masculine mix of tangerine, orange, and nutmeg. Nutmeg is an unusual fragrance choice to add to a personal scent. Same same as lemongrass; it’s food. But works surprisingly well.

Thai Air has bought the scent to offer in their goody bag as a small tube of hand cream for their international flight first class customers. Little gay boy thought that was the big selling point. But the scent spoke for itself. It is pure heaven. I bought some shampoo, some conditioner, and some hand cream. I passed on the scrub and moisturizer. Because I’m not that gay. And I got a candle for Noom, too. Also some massage oil, supposedly for Noom though I’d end up enjoy its application more than he. But the best product, which I loaded up on, was a shower cream made with rice bran oil. It’s a creamy white lotion that lathers up in the shower and leave your skin feeling silky smooth and wonderfully scented. Come to think about it, maybe I am that gay.

Thann’s Aromatic Wood line.

Thann’s Aromatic Wood line.

Aromatic Wood is now my go-to scent whenever I visit Bangkok. The town doesn’t smell as bad as it once did. And I smell pretty damn good now, too. There’s a lot about the Bangkok of fifteen years ago that I miss. Ten years from now, there will undoubtedly be many things about the Bangkok of today that I miss too. But those memories won’t smell quite as bad.

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I Kissed A Boy

30 Saturday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in It's A Gay World

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

That's Gay

Gay Kiss

“I want to kiss you.”

“Uh, okay . . . you wanna flesh that out a bit?”

Rick was a straight buddy of mine. I mean straight. Totally. Completely. 100 % heterosexual. Trust me. I’d know if it was otherwise. He was hot. Beyond hot. Think Matthew McConaughey, only better looking. And I’m a slut. I’ve had sex with as many straight guys as gay guys. How they self-identify matters not a bit to me. If they’re up to the task, I’m all for it. But that just wasn’t Rick.

“No, I don’t mean that. Just a kiss. I just been thinking. It’s lips, a tongue, there really shouldn’t be any difference. I’m curious.”

I shot him an arched eyebrow, trying to figure just where the hell this was going. His face had turned beat red before he even opened his mouth, so I knew something was up. But the idea of a make-out session was a surprise. To say the least.

Rick and I had been friends for several years. Regular buddies, we hung out together a lot, and often hit the bars together, each on the prowl for our own version of a piece of ass for the night. In fact, we’d met at a bar. Perched on bar stools next to each other we’d started chatting, cracking sick jokes, and before the night was over had become BFFs.

“You know I’m not gay.” That was from our conversation the night we met. My mannerisms had not given me away, the fact that I checked out every hot guy who walked past did.

“That’s cool, it makes no difference to me”

He laughed. And then clarified, “No, I mean we’re not having sex.”

“Still cool.”

We bumped fists; our friendship was cemented. During the following years there had never been a question of us doing the dirty. It wasn’t that Rick was in the least bit homophobic, it just wasn’t in his wiring. And he was the kind of guy who, had his dick ever signalled the least bit of a tug, would have been all over it.

Gay Kiss

Rick was the perfect straight buddy. He didn’t overcompensate, generally treated my preference for guys with as much interest as if I preferred blondes over brunettes, but if he was overly curious about something in the gay world, he’d ask. And there was never any of the typical straight guy phobia that his gay friend might attack him some night. He was at ease in my company. The first time we hit the head together, he looked over, snorted, and said, “Ha! Mine’s bigger.”

Noting that he’d looked first, I checked the validity of his statement and shot back, “Barely. And I’m probably bigger when it counts.”

He just looked up at the ceiling, rolled his eyes while he shook his head, wisely deciding there was no possible comeback for him that would be a win-win. But that was Rick. Confident of who he was, and confident in our friendship. So the ‘let’s lock lips’ thing was a bit unexpected.

“Okay, so we’re just talking a kiss, right?”

“Yeah. But a real kiss. Full on.”

I nodded slowly, considering . . .

“But no touching!”

That one got a cocked head, the obvious being stated with just a gesture.

“No you bastard, I mean leave my cock alone.”

I laughed. And pushed it. “What about tit? Do I get some tit at least?”

His turn to laugh and he dissolved into a fit of giggles at the idea. “You’re gay! You’re not suppose to be trying to get to second base!”

“I didn’t mean I wanted to bury my face between your tits in a fit of mammary ecstasy, dude. I mean your nipples. Or at least one of them. If you want a real kiss, I mean the whole enchilada, then tit comes into play.”

His turn for an arched eyebrow. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to buy that or not.

gay kiss

“Look, it’s like with a woman. When you kiss her, I mean the get-her-all-wet-and-dripping kind of kiss, ya know how you move your thumb up to that spot just behind her ear? Well, same with a guy and a nipple.”

Now I was speaking his language. He knew exactly what I meant. But had never considered that on a guy there was an equally effective contact point. “Yeah. Okay. But we’re talking hand, not mouth, right?”

Geeze. This was getting to be more difficult than negotiating a first timer’s stab at bottoming. “Yes, one finger, maybe two,” I assured him (slightly disappointed). “You mean now? Because if I lean in you’re just gonna start laughing. Or do you want me to just sneak up on you some night and plant one on you that melts you into a little orgasmic ball of pleasure?”

Rick rolled his eyes, not as big of a fan of my confidence as I was of his. “No, now. Just give me a minute.” He took a deep breath, concentrating on the floor, getting himself reigned in and under control so that he wouldn’t start laughing. And could enjoy, or at least fully experience, what was to come.

I moved in.

“Wait!”

Geeze.

“I want you to kiss me. I want to know what it is like to be kissed by a guy, not what it is like to kiss a guy.”

A bit exacerbated I started thinking, “In a minute you’re gonna know what it is like to have a guy’s cock crammed down your throat.” But he had a point. There is a difference. Not the guy thing. About kissing as opposed to being kissed. I’d never considered there was a top and bottom in kissing, too. But, at least initially, there is. Shit. So much for the fantasy of forced head.

“Okay, dude. Now, do you want me to rock your world or not?”

He shook his head again. I knew my statement would be enough to move things along. And ensure he wouldn’t start giggling.

So I kissed him. And it was good. He was good.

I was great.

gay kiss

It wasn’t a tentative peck, he was fully committed and gave tongue as good as he got. Our bodies were pressed together. And his tit responded well. With the attention of just one finger. Possibly, because I knew it’d go no further, it was one of the greatest kisses of my life. One that seemed to last a lifetime. Finally, I pulled away. And looked at him. In the eye. And then below the belt. Just in case.

Rick smiled knowingly and wagged his finger at me. “No. That didn’t happen,” he said taking a deep breath. “But that tit move? That was awesome.”

He was pleased. With himself. And with the kiss.

“And?”

“You need to shave.”

Huh. Kissing a guy is a lot like kissing a woman. You give it your all. They melt. And then make some flippant remark about personal grooming. I gave him a ‘fuck you’ smile and made note that if he ever decided he wanted to try bottoming, payback would be in order.

Normally, a straight buddy of mine would never get away with a kiss like that. I mean that wouldn’t be the end of it. Every opportunity I’d have for years to come – preferably in mixed company – I’d remind him about the time we made out. Fucking with your friends is what friendship is all about. But I’ve never mentioned that kiss to Rick since that night. It was . . . special. It meant something. Not something gay. Not something sexual. Just: something.

Rick and I are still friends though we don’t see each other as often now that we live on opposite coasts. He does read this blog though. And I’m sure his face turned beat red when he realized what I was writing about. I doubt if he’ll mention it the next time we talk. But I’m sure that right about now he’s smiling. And nodding his head.

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I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy: Double Standards

29 Friday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Dancing With the Devil, I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy

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Tags

Bangkok, Money Matters, Transportation

Hot Asian Guy

“I angry!” my bar boy friend and current love of my life, Noom, informed me.

Not that the scowl on his face wasn’t easy to read. When Noom gets pissed, the wise quickly cross the street to move out of his path. My reaction is to giggle. Or hug him. Or both. He’s so damn cute when he’s mad. When he feels the need to vocalize how he is feeling, it’s only make matters worse. His pronunciation of the word angry is even more adorable. But I always get myself under control, form my face into the appropriate scowl, and shake my head, a mixture of disgust and agreement over whatever justified his anger in the first place.

We were at the Sunday Night Market in Chiang Mai, down at the end of one of the side streets, and Noom had stopped in at a small stop and rob to buy a bottle of water. The old guy running the place tried to charge him the going price for a market night filled with touri. And Noom was incensed. Forgetting his entire cultural upbringing, he unsuccessfully tried to argue with the old guy. And then angrily stormed out, pissed at the world. “I Thai!” he wailed at me. Then in case I wasn’t getting it added as explanation, “I not Falang!”

All the Thailand guides, both print and on-line, will tell you the absolutely worse breach in etiquette in Thailand is to lose your temper and raise your voice (conveniently forgetting that an insult about the King – a vastly worse sin – can land your ass in jail). The guides go to great length to explain about face, sanook, and a bunch of other faulty reasoning to justify their warning and to ensure you never show your anger while visiting the Kingdom. Well, Frommer’s has never met my boy. If you want to see anger personified, you just need to see Noom when he feels he has been done wrong.

That night I led him down the street to water, hoping the next spot would offer Thai pricing so I could make him drink. Fortunately not too far away, just inside a wat’s compound, an old lady was selling bottles and slipped him one at the properly discounted locals’ price. But Noom was still fuming. I pulled him inside of the temple with the excuse I wanted to take a few photos. Really, I know Noom is incapable of visiting a wat without kneeling before Buddha and spending a few minutes deep in conversation with his god. And I trusted Buddha to calm the boy’s ass down. A few minutes of prayer worked its magic and we finished our night’s shopping with Noom in his normal happy, cheerful mood.

Hot Asian Guy

Back at the hotel, the indignity he’d suffered briefly raised its ugly little head again. He does tend to stew over perceived slights. With no Buddha available to intercede, I relied on my second best trick to liven the mood and started tickling him. Noom is extremely ticklish and dissolves into a hunk of laughing muscle. If he was a woman, he’d pee himself. (And if you want something to be indignant about, what a bitch it must be to be a woman and not be able to laugh without losing control of your bladder. Being a woman sucks worse than being Thai and not being shown proper respect from your countrymen.)

That wasn’t the first time Noom told me he was angry. Nor was it the first time I didn’t need to be told. Every time it has always been over the same thing: a fellow Thai not treating him in the manner Thais are supposed to treat each other. At least in Noom’s book. That always means he has been charged, or tried to be charged, the inflated Farang price for something. That it is my money doesn’t matter. Because when we are together my money is his money. He doesn’t get mad when it is me getting overcharged though. That’s acceptable. That’s Thailand. But watch out when he’s the one being gouged.

A lot of touri never know there is a double pricing standard in Thailand. They can’t read Thai, so the signs alerting locals to the lower price for Thais at admission booths all over the country never raise a flag. Frequent travellers to Thailand and expats are well aware of the two tiered price scheme. And it pisses a lot of them off. Personally, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t view it as being charged more but rather that as a local they get a discount. Seems fair to me.

As a touri, I have more money and can afford the higher price, which is often quite cheap anyway. And while I can somewhat sympathize with expats, I still get tired of their bitching about it. They had to know that they’d routinely be charged more than locals before they moved to Thailand. Right? Did they really think that would change just because they’ve lived in the country for ten years?

Hot Asian Guy

Though the double standard doesn’t bother Noom when it’s me paying the higher price, occasionally he’ll try and get around it on my behalf. Usually when it comes to an admission fee. He’ll try and buy two ‘Thai’ tickets. It never works. And he never gets upset. He just shrugs his shoulders as if to say, “Well, I tried, whatchya gonna do,” and that’s the end of it. When his rep is on the line, it’s a different story.

For years Noom always wanted to meet me at the airport when I’d arrive on a trip. I always put him off using the possibility of a flight delay or a long line at immigration as an excuse. I’d tell him after a long flight I just wanted to check in at the hotel, take a much needed shower, and catch a few hours of real sleep before seeing him. And he always accepted that. Truthfully, after a long flight and the start of my holiday the last thing I want to deal with is a pissed off Noom. And I know, thanks to the taxi drivers at the airport, that’s exactly what I’d get.

Flying back into Bangkok with Noom when we’ve been away has always proven to be a strain. His body tenses up as soon as we get in line for a taxi. By the time we get to the ‘where you go’ girl, he’s shooting daggers out of his eyes. He knows the taxi driver is gonna try and scam us. And just gets that much more angry when it happens. “He Mafia!” he’ll tell me, pissed, boiling, seething with anger as we’re led to the taxi. “I Mafia, too!” he’ll claim loudly enough for the driver to hear. Dunno if that is supposed to be effective, but it never seems to work. The stupid driver always tries to negotiate a fixed fare. Noom settles the matter in Thai, the words I understand enough to tell me it’s better I don’t understand the others.

Being scammed by taxi drivers at the airport used to piss me off too. It was an insult that they thought I was a first time visitor and would stupidly fall victim to their ruse. For a while I took great delight in playing a small version of Scam the Scammer, acting ignorant and asking a million questions when they announced a fixed fare to see how far I could get them to drive down the highway before turning on their meter. It never amounted to much more than a few baht, but I always checked it off as a win.

I used to take some revenge by not tipping those who tried to scam me, too. But I’ve come to realize, it’s pretty much a standard practice and not personal. And it’s never much in real money either. Their fixed fare is seldom more than 100 baht above what the metered fare would be. Now I just laugh, point, and say, “Meter.” And now I only hold back on the tip if the driver cops attitude about having to use the meter. But Noom takes it personally. And gets angry.

Hot Asian Guy

Around town is a different story. He doesn’t get angry over fixed fares, he just refuses the ride. Usually, because it’s just easier to do so, I let him handle flagging a taxi down and telling the driver where we are going. Catching a taxi in some areas, or going to certain others, always means a fixed fare. I’ve tried explaining this to Noom. And tried explaining I’d rather pay a few extra baht that stand curbside in the heat, humidity, and diesel fumes while he finds a driver willing to use the meter.

It’s taken a while, but he’s finally recognized the reasoning for the fixed fare if you want to go, for example, to Pratunam during rush hour. Which is pretty much anytime during the day. And even though it’s logic I’ve explained to him, now that he knows, when we hop into a taxi and agreed to a fixed fare, he explains it to me, “Too mut traffic.” Right. Thanks for that.

Even though he understands and knows that drivers picking up fares around Patpong at night have to pay extra for the right to do so, Noom refuses to pay their fixed rates. When we come out of a bar on Soi Twilight late at night, if I have my wits about me I make sure we head toward the opposite end of the soi. Then we can catch a metered taxi on Rama IV. Otherwise we have to trek through the streets of Patpong, down to about where Tawan is before we can catch a metered taxi.

I’ve tried telling Noom it’s late, I’ve been drinking, and I’d rather pay the extra baht than walk five blocks, but for him it’s the principle. So I suffer. And get a bit angry. Until I remind myself I’m on holiday. In Thailand. With Noom. I cant stay upset for long then.

We avoid the whole taxi problem by using the BTS a lot. Noom is frugal with my money and approves of public transportation. He tries to convince me to use the bus, but I always shoot back, “No. Limo.” He laughs. Message received. So in Noom’s world the BTS is always preferable to a taxi. It took several trips between the Nana area on Sukhumvit down to the Emporium via taxi and then the same trip by BTS to convince him the cost was the same. It wasn’t until I pointed out two fares were involved in the BTS ride that the math made sense to him. Now for that trip he always flag down a cab, and then patiently explains to me why it costs the same as the BTS during our ride. I’d hit the boy if I didn’t love him so much. But that’s about a well deserved bitch slap, not about being angry.

Hot Asian Guy

So Noom gets in a huff occasionally, whenever some Thai fails to acknowledge his rights as a fellow countryman. When that happens, I’m tempted to let him stew just to see how long he can stay mad. But as cute as he is when he is angry, I like him better when he’s his normal smiling self so I always end up doing whatever it takes to make his pain go away.

There’s a lot that pisses me off back home, but when I’m in Thailand, I’m on holiday and can’t help but have a good time. But on one trip I did lose it. I was the one who got angry for a change. And it was an unusual enough occurrence that Noom needed to find out why. I explained. He kept grilling me. I explained again. He wanted to empathize but couldn’t understand what I was upset about. Finally he decided I just needed instruction, “In Thailand,” he schooled me, “we no get angry.”

Ah, Got it. Right. And I’d thought that Thai double standards only applied to two tiered pricing.

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Monk Shot! #25

28 Thursday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Monk Shot!, Travel Photography

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Bangkok, Monks, Photography, Wats

Wat Pathum Wanaram monk

Soi Dog and Monk @ Wat Pathum Wanaram

Buried behind the wiharn at Wat Pathum Wanaram, a small village of monk quarters, student housing, and villager residences offers a peak into Bangkok’s somnolent rural past. An old neighborhood now encased between ginormous shopping malls, the wat offers visitors an oasis of serenity, a chance to cool down, rest, and reflect before heading back out to the bustling streets for yet more shopping.

Bonus Shot: Wat Pathum Wanaram Merit

28 Thursday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Bangkok, Travel Photography

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Bangkok, Photography, Wats

Wat Pathum Wanaram merit

Lotus, Orchids, and Incense @ Wat Pathum Wanaram

Nestled under the elevated tracks of the BTS between Siam Paragon and Central World, Wat Pathum Wanaram was often a frequent stop for me when strolling through the area. The small shrine area just inside the compound’s dusty pink walls offered a quick photo op that spoke of tranquility amidst the surrounding area’s hustle and bustle. I took this shot on one quick visit years ago, before I discovered how much more the wat had to offer its visitors.

Wat Pathum Wanaram: An Oasis of Serenity In A Chaotic Neighborhood

27 Wednesday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Thailand Travel Tips and Tales, Wats of Thailand

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bangkok, Wats

Wat Pathum Wanaram Doorway

Doorway into Wat Pathum Wanaram

Amid the hustle, bustle, and crass consumerism of Bangkok’s Siam district, nestled between the Siam Paragon Mall and the not so quick jaunt to Central World Mall, nestles an oasis of serenity, a meditation wat offering visitors a chance to cool down, relax, and reflect. Wat Pathum Wanaram isn’t a big secret. It certainly isn’t one of the ‘off the beaten path’ hidden gems the adventurous touri seeks. But then again, maybe it is.

Often overlooked, the wat doesn’t offer the majesty of the Grand Palace, the draw of a giant reclining Buddha statue, or even the bustle of merit making on display at the Erawan shrine, just down the street. A quick peak into its street-front courtyard may elicit little interest. But delve deeper into the compound and you’ll discover a quiet oasis of contemplation. And a peak into rural Thai life.

Originally known to locals as Wat Sra Pathum, Wat Pathum Wanaram is a royal temple that sits on a vast lotus pond, now dried up, built by King Rama IV in 1857 because he wanted a temple near his new palace that could be dedicated to his consort. The wat served as a royal retreat during the time of King Chulalongkorn, and houses three highly revered statues that were brought from Vientiane in Laos. On the wat’s grounds a royal repository enshrines the remains of His Majesty the King’s father, His Royal Highness Prince Mahidol of Songkhla, and some of the remains of Her Royal Highness the Princess Mother.

Wat Pathum Wanaram monks

Novice monks at work.

The temple, in the white wat/red roof style of architecture, is visible from busy Rama I Road, tucked beneath the shadow of Bangkok’s elevated Skytrain. Through the gated entrance, a small outdoor shrine dense with incense smoke is nestled to your left while a large tarp covered meeting area takes up most of the graveled drive to your right. Visit at the right time of day and novice monks fill the area performing janitorial duties.

On the other side of a row of stately trees, a white wall separates the wat’s ubosot featuring murals painted nearly 150 years ago, a large white chedi, and an ornate wiharn containing a Buddha image in the popular Mara Vijaya posture.

Many visitors go no further, but that is a mistake. The wat’s jewel is hidden away down a graveled path running along the Central World side of the compound. Past a series of classrooms on one side and a small soi leading deep into an area of monk quarters on the other, the path leads you to a tranquil forested meditation center. Nine rai of the wat’s 15-rai plot of land is set aside as a green area for visitors to meditate and for people studying dharma at the Sala Phrarajasaddha Dharma Centre.

The cool, thickly planted area is intended to represent a forest, significant to the life of Buddha. “I would say the forest is an important part of Buddhist temples for it helps create peace and tranquility,” says Chao Kun Thavorn Chittathavaro, assistant abbot of the temple and the director of the dharma centre since it opened in 1990. “Lord Buddha was born, became enlightened and passed away in forest environment”, he says.

Wat Pathum Wanaram dragon

Dragon Guardian

Red brick walkways meander between palms and tropical flowers, overhead, lines of small flags alternating in the colors of the National and King’s personal flags flutter in the breeze. The path, lined with carvings of elephants and roosters, opens to clearings of gold-leafed laden statues of Buddha and revered monks. A small shop offering religious items for sale to the faithful is tucked away next to an imposing set of bronze Buddhas. Hidden further back is an immense open sided prayer hall guarded by golden dragons perched on red posts, replete with gold Buddhas and glass encased religious relics, and dedicated to the memory of the late Princess Mother who lived near the temple in Sra Pathum Palace.

A haven of serenity for those who are seeking peace amid the noisy and busy city of Bangkok. The clamor of shoppers and gridlocked traffic is left behind, replaced by a gentle breeze, serenity and lush vegetation. Whichever god you honor, the meditation garden of Wat Pathum Wanaram surely speaks of his existence.

Wat Pathum Wanaram’s open-air prayer hall

Wat Pathum Wanaram’s open-air prayer hall

However, the tranquility the wat is known for was violently shattered on May, 19, 2010 when the Dharma Centre at the temple’s heart became the last refuge for Red Shirt protestors after their encampment outside the wat’s walls was broken up by government forces. The temple’s grounds had become a sanctuary for more than 200 people, mostly the elderly, women and children, when on Monday it was declared a safe house, a no-weapons zone, a designated refuge for those who wanted to leave peacefully from the nearby protest site. But then shots rang out a little after 6 in the evening on Wednesday, purportedly fired from the elevated BTS walkway fronting the wat. When the firing stopped, two demonstrators and four civilians were dead, including a volunteer nurse.

Red Shirt leaders blamed the government for the killings, the government said unidentified snipers who had been active and obstructing security operations around the Rajprasong intersection where the main body of protesters had encamped were at fault; the infamous Men In Black.

Wasan Sairassamee, who along with colleagues was working from a tent set up for medical personnel near the entrance to the temple, said he heard gunfire from where government soldiers were positioned. “We saw heavily-armed soldiers moving to the BTS track. At around that time, more demonstrators rushed into the temple,” he reports.

Wasan stated that he and his fellow volunteer nurses for the demonstrators initially decided to hide inside their tent. ”But when we heard gunshots coming from the soldiers’ direction and saw a demonstrator fall down, a volunteer from our tent rushed out to help,” he said. The hail of gunfire continued after the injured protester was pulled to safety.

Wat Pathum Wanaram Buddha

Wat Pathum Wanaram Buddha

”We ducked and lay low for about 10 minutes until the gunfire stopped,” Wasan recounted. However, he said when a female nurse stood up, she was shot and died instantly.

A governmental committee’s initial finding on the tragic event stated three out of the six people who were killed at Wat Pathum Wanaram probably died as a result of actions taken by the military. More recent reports lay blame completely with government troops.

Since the events of 2010, an uneasy peace has descended on Thailand’s capital city, and tranquility again is the rule within Wat Pathum Wanaram’s complex. Despite its recent past, the temple continues to be a symbol of calm, a sanctuary of peace in an otherwise chaotic neighborhood.

Bonus Shot: Wat Pathum Wanaram Alley

27 Wednesday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Bangkok, Travel Photography

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Monks, Photography, Wats

Wat Pathum Wanaram monk robes

Monk Robes In The Morning Sun @ Wat Pathum Wanaram

A series of brick walkways meander through the back portion of Wat Pathum Wanaram, passing monk quarters and student housing. Hard to believe a tranquil scene like this is nestled away just a few minute’s stroll from the packed, ritzy Siam Paragon Mall.

Older Is Better. Live With It

26 Tuesday Jul 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Dancing With the Devil, The World of Thailand's Gay Gogo Bars

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Gay Bangkok

shirtless asian male

“WTF?”

Mark was dumfounded. We’d just stepped outside of DJ Station for a bit of fresh air after spending the last hour packed in the disco surrounded by partially naked guys dancing their asses off. And within the space of five minutes, I’d attracted not one but two admirers. The first, after a quick smile and a brief kiss, had slipped me his phone number signalling me that either meeting him back inside the club or later would be cool. Now the second guy had his arms wrapped around me, the two of us melting into the wall I’d been leaning against. Mark was incredulous. And standing by himself. He was the hot young stud in the alley but the local boys were instead flocking to the old guy. It just wasn’t right.

Still early in the late night, with Bangkok lit up in neon like the gaudily painted whore that she is, Mark and I had left the girls, the trio of dykes we were traveling with, to do whatever it is women seem to need so much time to accomplish, and had hit DJ’s without them. They’d be joining us later. Their tardiness possibly being nothing more than a need to make an Entrance. The club was already packed, though it was still early enough in the night that it had not yet filled beyond capacity as was its norm.

Stripping off his shirt soon after entering the disco, Mark made his own Entrance, his nicely defined chest glistening from sweat brought on by too many bodies crammed into too small of a space, his torso carefully shaved to leave an enticing hair trail designed to lead eyes downward, a promise that despite his overall shortness in stature he was not short where it counted. And he’d already amassed a high body count of local gay boys more than willing to move to the beat next to him, warm smiles greeting his warm body, both offering a night of pleasure.

As a friend, Mark was pleased to see I was having as much luck as he, though I’d kept my shirt on and was offering nothing more than my existence. As a fellow male on the prowl it worried him a bit that I seemed to be having as easy of a time at it as he, too. That Mark spent hours at the gym to ensure he ranked in the top tier, while I avoided the gym like Lindsay Lohan avoids sobriety, my lack of a hot bare chest seemed to matter not one bit to the local crowd. But since he had numerous partners to pick from, it wasn’t a problem. Just confusing. At least until we stepped outside.

Scoring both another liplock and another phone number, I pushed my new piece-of-ass-to-be back inside the club, concerned about my travelmate’s well-being, proving I’m much more sympathetic to others than most would believe, at least when I give a fuck. “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Look, I know some guys find you attractive. But come on. Tonight, we’re like this,” he said positioning his hands at the same level. “It should be like this,” he explained, rising one hand a foot higher.

Understanding his confusion, I laughed, agreed and said, “Yup, I can’t figure out how you are managing to do as well as you are.” I may be sympathetic but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to fuck with a friend’s mind when the opportunity presents itself.

Mark shook his head. Still dumbfounded, and settled the matter with a simple, “Fuck you.”

shirtless asian male

“WTF, dude?”

Dave was not gay. But still wanted his beauty appreciated. Even in a gay gogo bar filled with nearly naked guys eyeing potential customers for the night – which Dave had no plans on becoming one of – he felt that he should have been the #1 choice.
Dave is a hunk. A dreamboat. Tall, dark, and handsome. Pure male perfection. And he was right. The boys should have been all over him like flies on summer roadkill. But instead they were all buzzing around me.

We’d coasted into the Barbeiry on Suriwong, not our first visit together to Bangkok, nor our first visit together to the bar. Though overall, we hit far more girl bars than boy bars, Dave had no problem with joining me in watching the city’s working boys strut their stuff on stage. What attention he did get made him a bit nervous. But he liked the initial attraction. But hated telling a boy who had his eye on him that he wasn’t gay. They never seemed to understand. Not gay didn’t mean no, or at least they didn’t tend to take no for an answer.

Still, between the two of us, Dave felt he deserved the most attention, even if it went no further than that. And that wasn’t happening. Temporarily taking my eyes away from what the guy who’d sat himself next to me was pulling down his shorts to show me, concerned about my travelmate’s well-being, proving I’m much more sympathetic to others than most would believe, at least when I give a fuck, I asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“Dude, come on,” he said. “I know guys find you attractive, but shit, I should be getting more play than you.” It wasn’t like guys hitting on me was something new to Dave. Though I had eyes only for Dave when we were together, frequently when we were out and about he’d point out some guy who was busy cruising me that I’d totally missed. I wonder how many nights of bliss I’ve missed by concentrating instead on nights with Dave. In any case, on this night, my fans were hard to miss. Dave wasn’t pleased. And was a bit jealous.

shirtless asian male

The young, handsome, and hot have no trouble finding a guy who’d love to make all their dreams come true, even if only for one night. Even in Thailand, their natural beauty is enough to ensure a sizeable selection of potential bedmates. But then that’s the beauty of Thailand, the potential for sex is rampant. Even when your years of being the hot guy of the night are a decade or more behind you. The boys in Bangkok haven’t any problem with older gents. Many prefer them. Not just the money boys or the guys who ply their trade in Bangkok’s numerous gogo bars; most of them are straight, anyway.

A lot of Bangkok’s gay boys appreciate older guys. It’s not so much the daddy syndrome, but a realistic view on life coupled with the Thai cultural phenomenon of ‘taking care’. If you want someone to take care of you, an older guy is a better prospect. His years of experience almost guarantee he’ll be more respectful. And, possibly more importantly, his years building a career almost guarantee he’ll be well-off and able to provide the life Bangkok’s gay boys are expecting to become used to.

There are plenty of guys in SE Asia, who like their counterparts in the Western world, prefer an older bed partner. Not so much for financial reasons but rather simply sexual ones: some guys get off on daddies. Bless them. But from experience, you’d think that would apply to the majority of guys in Thailand, They all seem to have a daddy fixation. But like in the West, the true daddy aficionados are in the minority. The majority of Thai guys looking for a daddy are looking for the accompanying sugar. I don’t care, the result is just as sweet.

Not understanding that to Thais there is always a promise of more than just a bout between the sheets, Mark and Dave both felt being younger and hotter should give them the leg up. Reality was proving them wrong. A hot bod versus a large wallet is no contest. That the latter was attached to a not too bad looking guy made it an easy decision. One that wasn’t sitting well with the younger, hotter guys. WTF, indeed.

Sure, in the long term, money is going to play an important role. But in the short term, when it’s just a quickie to pass the night away, sex is king. Sure the Thai guy you hook up with may be hoping you’ll become his meal ticket for life. But unless you fall in love, you can easily get away with nothing more than a night of lust.

Hit the disco, a club, or the internet, as an older gentleman you’ll be deluged with offers from hot bodied Thai guys. And that’s not even counting the moneyboys. Bangkok is an older gay guy’s wet dream; it’s just too easy to find a suitable partner for the night. For the younger, hotter visitors though, Bangkok can be a nightmare; there’s just too much competition from older guys. In Thailand, old guys rule.

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Sawatdee and welcome to the new and improved Bangkokbois Gay Thailand Blog! Okay, so it’s not necessarily improved, just hosted on a new site. And it’s not just about Thailand, though that still is the main focus. And it’s not all gay either, unless you’re not and then you’ll think it’s pretty damn gay I’m sure. All of the penis might tip you off. Which means if you are not of the required legal age to be looking at penis other than your own, you should leave. And go tell your parental units they suck at their job.

But it is a blog and one out of three ain’t bad. Besides, Bangkokbois Pretty Gay Mostly About Thailand Blog For People Of Legal Age is just too wordy. But so is Dancing With The Devil In The City Of Angels, which is really the title of this blog.

As cool of a title as that is, Google just ain’t sharp enough to figure out that means this blog is mostly about Thailand. And pretty damn gay to boot. The penis part even Google figured out. Which is a good thing. ‘Cuz Bangkokbois Pretty Gay Mostly About Thailand With Lots Of Penis Blog For People Of Legal Age, I think, was taken by someone else.

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