A Day in the Life of a Vagabond

Ko Samui, Thailand
After going to bed at midnight thinking that I would sleep all through the night, I woke at 5:30am ready to start the day. I began by reading a book I received from a co-worker back in my working days (a week and a half ago) about a veteran who goes back to Vietnam to investigate a murder that allegedly happened 30 years ago. The setting of the book is preparation for when we go to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in a few weeks. I like to read books that are appropriate for the region. The best example would be The Sun Also Rises by Hemmingway if you are going to the Running of the Bulls, which I did a few years back. I was reading on the porch. It was relaxing out there as the air hadn’t heated up quite yet. On the chair next to me was a gray and white cat that had been there since I arrived. He took little notice of me. Moments later he sprung to life and got into pouncing position. Darting across the walkway, he leapt on its prey—a gecko. Proudly, he scampered off with the lizard wriggling in his mouth.

I reclined in the white plastic chair on the porch as I wrote in my journal. The surrounding cottages and flora remind me of my trip to the beach resort town of Atacames in Ecuador. The dwellings are all white with tile and exposed aggregate porches. Their roofs are single peaked, made of corrugated metal. Exotic plants (at least to me) line the walkways as shade is provided by coconut trees. The only sounds this early in the morning are a few cackles from the birds high in the trees and the whirring of the air conditioning units. Very peaceful. The noises from the main road a few blocks away cannot be heard. As a morning breeze picks up, all I can see are the other cottages and the cat who, like me, is just trying to relax and enjoy paradise.

I made my way down the main streets of Ko Samui to find sustenance. Ever since I read a book that took place in Thailand that spoke of banana pancakes, I always wanted to try them. We found a place that made them and they were delicious.

Continuing down the road with no real agenda, I passed a shop that offered Thai massages. Again using the 30 hours in transit excuse, I figured I owed it to myself and my body to get a massage. The masseuse spent an hour on my back, shoulders, and legs. At times I had no idea what body part she was using. I know she used her hands, but I think I got some elbow, palm, a foot or two, and maybe even a knee. It was very relaxing and afterward they offered a cup of green tea on the balcony as the moment of euphoria was enjoyed.

Though I had been to the beach several times already, I hadn’t really spent much time there nor had I gone in the water. The golden sand was soft as I excavated a crater to sit in and read. The width of the beach was maybe a hundred feet or so, but it stretches on forever in either direction. Well, not forever because it is an island. The air was pleasant and I just watched some of the local children as they carelessly played with a ball in the water. I found myself in the water moments later. The warm gulf water was waist high even after walking far out into it. Looking back at the shore, I imitated swimming like a jellyfish, as I tend to do in the waters of tropical islands. I think about things as I float. Mostly it’s about how fortunate I am to be able to do all the amazing things I have done. I think about the people back home and how, though I miss them, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but exactly where I am.

Before I left San Diego, my co-workers threw a surprise party. We played a game where I showed, using props they provided, and told them what I was going to do on this trip. It was called the “The Life of an HR (Human Resource) Temp.” The previous has been a “Day in the Life of a FORMER HR Temp.” I would go on to talk about the evening and how we survived a bumpy ride across the Gulf of Thailand in the pouring rain on a speedboat filled well beyond capacity and how we experienced a Full Moon party on the island of Ko Phangan until 6:30 the next morning and how frightening a motorcycle taxi can be unless you’ve just been through much worse. But I think I will save that for another time.

Just another day.