Last Thursday night I rode the train down to Bangkok for a wedding. A number of the people on the train were traveling to be with family (living family and family graves) for the Lunar New Year. I was on my way to a wedding.
The train came to rest in Bangkok around 6:00 AM. If I’d really thought about where I was and where I was going, I would have hopped a taxi. By the time I’d ridden the underground and transferred to the sky train I had spent as much as I would have for a taxi. At that early hour in the morning, the taxi would have been a good deal faster.
I showed up at my friends’ hotel room around 7:00. They kindly let me dump my stuff there and take a shower. We then made a run to the U.S. Consulate. I got twenty something visa pages added to my passport. The process was quick, painless, and free. My friends’ business also went quickly, though at greater cost.
We grabbed breakfast outside on the street. I had kebab wrap and fresh squeezed orange juice. Bangkok does have some things to offer that cannot be found in Ubon.
I spent the remainder of the day hanging out with friends. In the late afternoon most of us went to the wedding rehearsal. The pastor was a dictator. It was his way or find another church fast. Apparently he’d warned the bride ahead of time.
The pastor reminded me of some of the experiences I’ve had with medical doctors here in Thailand. Doctors here don’t seem to like it when I ask questions. They prescribe drugs. I take drugs. No questions.
After the rehearsal we went to a food court that has just about everything. I had enchiladas. The enchiladas were pretty good. Ironically, the rice was quite miserable.
To save on hotel costs, I crashed with the groom for the night.
The next day was one of beautiful relaxation that included a blueberry bagel with cream cheese. I don’t think I’d eaten a bagel in two years.
In the evening I thought the service went well. During the service I found the pastor’s dictatorial attitude even more intrusive. He corrected some things that were in no need of correction. Where the empty ring box is placed really doesn’t matter.
The reception also was nice. I sang a song in English. I decided I kind of like singing for people who don’t know what I’m saying (the bride was Thai, the groom was Dutch). They thought I did great. The sound was good, but I botched a few lyrical lines in part due to some intentional (friendly) distractions. Try taking a bouquet of flowers while playing a guitar and singing.
I’m back in Ubon. No more bagels.
