The Chiang Mai Airport isn’t much bigger than the one back home. However, it’s much more crowded.
What scares me is that every creature here seems to know exactly what to do and in which direction to go.
Unlike me.
I need to find something to do. I need to get rid of this feeling of being an abandoned child. It annoys me.
I line up at the currency exchange counter. It takes about ten minutes to change a hundred dollars. In exchange, I get about three thousand Thai baht, which rustles quietly in my palm.
The five hundred baht bills are pink. There’s a guy with glasses and a side part looking at me from them. I don’t know who he is, but I guess he’s some big shot here. The Thai script looks like mating worms, and I think it would take me about ten years just to learn the alphabet.
Enough with the longing! Courage, Tiberiu!
Do something!
I see a guy in uniform nearby and ask where I need to go and who I need to kiss up to in order to get a visa to enter Thailand. The man points me to a counter.
Another counter? Everything works on counters here?
But I worried for nothing, it’s simple! I fill out the form. Fortunately, it’s not written with worms.
“Welcome to Thailand!”
The smiling man reads the form, compares my details with those in my passport, and in less than two minutes, I receive a beautiful stamp on one of the passport pages. It doesn’t hurt, but on this occasion, the Thai state relieves me of two of my pink bills.
Now I really don’t know what to do next. I’ve already exhausted all my ideas.
I go outside. This bustling crowd of people and cars has a way of scaring me. In front of the airport, there are a million flags of all colors. Honking in many tones and a downright Chinese language. Here and there, I hear a bit of French, but I can’t pinpoint exactly from which direction.
It’s horrifying!
You’d think a species of joking extraterrestrials has captured all these people, put a chip in their heads, and now commands them from a distance.
“Either it’s an alien chip,” I mutter thoughtfully, “or there’s hot pepper somewhere. It’s not good, man! What kind of mess have you landed in?”
In this country, it seems like everyone is either coming from somewhere or going somewhere.
Movement! Movement!
More movement!
Everyone is plugged in. I think I’m the only European parasite who doesn’t have problems with time. Free time flows for me. Minutes pass by unnoticed. I don’t even have a mobile phone.
My fingers are trembling. My knees are trembling. What a sorry excuse for a man I am… Actually, I’m not afraid, but I feel nauseous. Maybe I should eat something.
I go back in and head to the information counter. Yeah… counters!
I find out that the first flight home is only tomorrow around noon. Damn! What am I supposed to do here until tomorrow afternoon? I want to go home! I want it now! What do you mean, “tomorrow, at noon”?
Apparently, I have enough time to explore this airport until there’s nothing left of it.
I quickly devour a hot dog and a coffee. I buy a pack of Thai cigarettes and a lighter, then go back outside and admire the flags. Why did they put them there?
I smoke. Nicotine numbs me. Nicotine is good. Now I don’t seem to be afraid anymore. I just have an inexplicable feeling of unease.
I slowly blow out the cigarette smoke and try to come up with a plan of action.
The Thai cigarettes are just like all the cigarettes I’ve smoked in the last thirty years. Bad.
The same tobacco brands were in the store, the same packages… even the lighters are still Made in China. There’s no difference. ‘Marlboro’ is still written on my pack. The frightening pictures on the packs are approximately the same. The picture on my pack is of a doctor operating on a cancerous tumor.
I sigh and put the pack in my pocket.
Lord, if you love me, let me alone in a room with the sadist who chose to put these pictures on cigarette packs. Just five minutes, Lord, and the room should be padded so no noise gets out. Am I asking for too much?
“ASTONISHING!
The author of the famous pictures of cancerous tumors on cigarette packs was found beaten to a pulp in a padded room at an airport in Thailand.
It seems the victim was systematically beaten.
The Thai police quickly found the culprit.
It’s a 44-year-old European who was loitering around the airport.
The trial begins in three weeks.
The suspect has requested in writing that all jury members be smokers.
We’ll be back with details.”
I smoke another cigarette disgustedly and suddenly realize how hot it is outside. I take off my scarf and put it in my pocket, then take off my leather jacket. Then the sweater. I’m left with just a shirt, jeans, and of course, winter boots.
I start to somewhat understand why everyone is looking at me strangely.
What am I doing in Thailand until tomorrow afternoon with these clothes? I’m going to roast! It’s only ten in the morning and I’m already melting from the heat. I’m sweating all over.
I left at minus 25 degrees Celsius. It’s at least 25 plus here.
What’s the difference?
I start to wake up. I become myself again. The fear has passed.
“What do you say, boy?” I negotiate out loud. “Look at the sun. Look at the warmth you longed for. Isn’t it a pleasure to be here?
Really… These Thais are happy and they have no idea! Do you really want to go back to the North Pole? Seriously?
And what will you find there? Hotels? You can find hotels here too! Taxis? There are plenty here too. If you go home, you’re making a big mistake. That fag, the bartender, was smarter than you. At least he spent ten days in the warmth, on the beach.
Why can’t you? You can find planes to go back next week. And the week after that. What’s the rush?”
I sit on the curb and think hard. The minutes pass, and I sweat from all my joints. So I decide.
“I’ll stay! Whatever happens!”
Once the decision is made, I walk through the airport like everyone else. I’m on autopilot.
First thing:
I buy a T-shirt, beach shorts, flip-flops, and shorts. And a fanny pack.
Second thing:
I go to the bathroom and quickly change my clothes. I make a big package out of my old clothes and leave it in a corner of the bathroom. In case a Thai crazy enough to go to Europe finds them, he can take them.
Done! Case closed.
From now on… to the beach!
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