Thailand: The Red-Eye Preamble; First Day.

The preamble to my arrival in Thailand was a 24 hour marathon of either airports or the economy section of one of three jets it took me to get here. There was a certain amount of dread affixed to this notion of requiring three different jets to get to my destination because I know myself very well, and what I know with regard to jet travel is that I have fitful experiences bereft of any sort of restfulness.

Leaving behind the arid and oven-hot climate of the Middle East I arrive at the airport in Thailand, dim-witted from too many gates, too many negotiations with customer service, and no semblance of rest. I'm immediately struck by visions of Japan as I go through customs - they even have the cartoon customs mascots in Thailand just as they do in Japan at Narita International Airport. Taking my surroundings for face value and with little thought involved, I could provide close analog with my present surroundings and Japan entirely. Of course, it's not that simple, nothing ever is.

I emerge from the airport with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Inside I have enough clothes for four days, toiletries, a computer and a book. The lack of checked baggage and baggage claim has already made this gamble worth it, I think to myself, shouldering the other strap and walking to the Public Transport area of the parking lot. This is when I realize that despite my preparation with lodging, reading about the climate and surrounding areas, and reading about the culture, I did not study one word of Thai language. In what would turn out to be an on-going trend for the remainder of my first day in Thailand - I arrived in Thailand at 8 pm - I stumble through dialogue with the lady at the Public Transport booth. Luckily, this is not her first experience with a self-centered American who did not study any Thai language, and she hails a cab for me.

I slip into the back seat of the cab and clumsily utter the address of my apartment in Bangkok. I'm met by a blank stare from the rearview mirror and so I repeat the address, more finely this time, and with a change in intonation for certain syllables. Still nothing. I heave a sigh of resignation and hand the driver my directions. He nods quickly and tears out of his parking spot. Instinctively reacting to the jarring of the taxi, I reach for a seat belt and don't find one. Despite the chaos that would envelope me for the next seventy minutes of the taxi ride to my apartment, I enjoyed the experience for what it was. And what Thailand driving etiquette is, I can succinctly describe in this way: a matter of self-preservation, with no particular adherence to driving laws, should such things even exist here. There is no gradual braking, no blinkers, no gradual acceleration. Everything has a certain timing to it with regard to traffic, and that timing is frenetic.

On the other hand, I am surrounded by the ephemera of my Bangkok experience. There is a rush of lights, temples, and greenery, all of which were so starkly absent from my life in the Middle East. Acknowledging the ephemeral nature of past experience, I am attempting to nail it all down with the very words that I type. I may not be much for taking pictures, but I can write. And write, and write, and write. Or type. 

This entry is the first of many chronicling my experiences in Thailand, and I will do my very best not only to bring an accurate portrayal of this country to you, but also flesh out the experience entirely with some sort of meaning: lessons learned, mistakes made, or otherwise. 

The taxi driver and I quibble over the final expense of this ride. The meter says one amount, the driver says another. Finally, we agree on an amount in between and I receive my first lesson in Thai economics: everything can and will be negotiated. My apartment is on the seventh floor of a seven story building, which feels lucky to me for reasons I can't justify. The property manager, whom I shall call Steve, meets me at the complex entrance and shows me to my room. As I recall, Steve took great care to break everything down for me, but it was a fruitless endeavor - I was entirely too exhausted to adequately retain information. He gives me a quick crash course in common Thai phrases, zero of which I remember even after he has left me alone in my apartment. 

My apartment is small, simple, yet chic. The resounding theme is black and white, only interrupted with occasional orange furnishings. The bathroom includes a western toilet but with a hose and nozzle attached to the base of it, presumably to rinse off one's nether regions following the bathroom engagement. The shower is less a stall and more a random designated area on the bathroom wall to mount the shower head, plumbing and controls. In all of my worldliness - or lack thereof, since there is no sarcasm font - I have been in this apartment for three days and still cannot understand how to turn on the water heater, so I enjoy cold showers. And I truly do enjoy them.

Following the cold shower, I eat two hard boiled eggs and wash them down with a small box of green tea I purchased from the 7/11 within the apartment complex. Indeed, the complex has its own 7/11. I floss, I brush my teeth, and I flop onto the bed. The thought occurs to me that with so much in flux the past day and a half, I welcome the certainty of sleep. Though I will experience so many new things and have already, sleep is guaranteed. It seems that once my brain is done considering this, I immediately drift to sleep.

I wake up three hours later, wide-awake. I'm in Thailand.

A Retrospective Look at my First Three Months in Iraq

Tomorrow afternoon I depart from Iraq and will inevitably find myself in Thailand, where I will spend the majority of my one month vacation. What follows is a retrospective evaluation of my time in the Middle East thus far. Perhaps this will be edifying to some.

The very first thing I must make known is this: local Iraqis are some of the genuinely nicest people you may ever find yourself privileged to meet. It is true, they would quite literally give you the shirt off of their back. When I spent time near the Persian Gulf, local Iraqis brought dates to us on base and they were incredibly delicious. It almost seemed as if beneath the skins of these dates was a sort of succulent liquid as opposed to the molasses texture I experienced stateside with medjool dates.

The second thing I will make known: we as Americans, by and large, are spoiled. It is a matter of privilege that we are able to complain about the things we do. When the phrase "first world problems" is uttered, it is succinct. We do suffer from problems, and perceive them as problems, but often they are not true problems. Surveying my Facebook feed, seeing the day to day complaints, I'm not completely capable of embracing these gestures. 

Now I will briefly describe my experience with Kenyans and Nepalese Gurkhas, who provide our security team where I am located. When either of these nationalities are my patients, there is seldom a complaint - even if a painful procedure is being performed. This is in stark contrast to much of what I observed when practicing medicine in the states. Furthermore, there is a basic gratitude expressed by both Kenyans and Nepalese on a daily basis which does well to extract such livelihood out of me. It is indeed infectious. Kenyans especially strike me as so basically innocent in their ways that I find it hard to become impatient or upset with them, even during moments of extreme language barrier.

The temperatures here have reached as high as 126 degrees fahrenheit, primarily when I was near the Persian Gulf. These are doubtless to be perceived as gaudy temperature numbers, however I must inform that the complete lack of air moisture makes these temperatures entirely bearable. Whereas I've found Atlanta's high 90s heat with 70% or higher humidity oppressive, I have few complaints about the weather here. The weather is sneaky, however, in that sweat evaporates off of the body before ever being noticed and thus occult dehydration has been known to take place. 

It has rained once in the three months I have been here, which persisted for all of perhaps five minutes.

Finally, I will say this: though it would seem I've been bearish on Americans and even the developed world abound, I still sympathize with the post-industrial lifestyle. Though the things we complain about have changed, the residual stress has not. It is simply different things which we see as stressors now, but they are nonetheless formidable. Instead, I might say that living here has radically reduced my residual stress. I have very few things which would serve as stressors. In my three months here, I have been consistently happy with every passing day, and cannot recall a single day in which I felt sad or depressed.

All told, the time went by quickly. Following my vacation I will log another ninety days in the Middle East and then depart for another month-long vacation, attending college online all the while. If anything, I can readily perceive that this is a significant foothold in my life, and its direction may forever change following my stint working here.

July 12 Update: It's About Fitness.

Greetings once again everyone. Pardon the intermission, but I've been busy making travel plans, working, doing homework/essays, and working. By the time I have arrived at a juncture in which I could blog, I felt the desire to do so had already left me. Not so tonight.

I acquiesced to strength training recently; particularly, I am employing Steve Kamb's NerdFitness routine: Superhero workout. If you're defiant at this particular moment and refuse to click the link, I'll include my workout here:

Workout A

4 sets of squats, 4-8 reps. I began at 160#, as I am just a puny runner. 

Three weeks in, and I am repping 190#, looking to increase to 200# this weekend.

3 sets of chin-ups, max reps. I began with a line that looked like 8, 6, 6. My most recent "A" workout yielded 12, 10, 8. 

4 sets of overhead press, 4-8 reps. Again, I'm a puny runner. Started repping 80#, I'm now at 110# with my most recent line being 8, 6, 6.

Workout B

3 sets of deadlifts, 4-8 reps. Began at 140# as I had never done deadlifts in correct form. I'm now repping 190#, recent line: 8, 8, 7.

3 sets of bent over rows, 6-10 reps. Started at 120#, currently at 150#. Line: 10, 10, 8.

4 sets of bench press, 4-8 reps. Began at 140#, currently at 160#. Line: 8, 6, 5.

400m sprints, with 200m walking rest periods. This is less to do with interval training and more to do with maximum exertion running for speed training. I've never really employed sprints in my routine but I'm glad I did.

I enjoy this new routine for many reasons. First, I'm getting strong at a nice pace. Second, my routine takes no longer than 30 minutes typically and works my entire body due to the use of stabilizer muscles in nearly every routine. My plan is to do this routine for three months and then switch over to Crossfit: Endurance.

I will need to be more mindful about wasting muscle this time. I believe I wasted a lot of muscle in my hardcore cardio years and now I'm having to make up lost ground.

Time for some progress pics!

Week 1, June 30.

Week 2, July 5.

Week 3, front profile, July 12.

Week 3, oblique profile, July 12.

All told I've gained about three pounds and the knee pain which had lingered for years has subsided as I anticipated with the strengthening of my quads and posterior chain. With vacation for an entire month upcoming, I am unsure of what sort of access I will have to barbells. If I do have access to a gym with barbells, I'll continue the routine and continue with the updates. 

That's all for now, thanks for stopping by and namaste!