Luang Prabang, Laos to Bangkok, Thailand

Given how much I disliked Luang Prabang, it seemed just fitting that at the time I requested a shuttle to the airport, I couldn't find a soul. A man came out after fifteen minutes, apologized and made some phone calls. It still took awhile to come and my anxiety started to act up. I told him I'd only wait ten more minutes before I had to go out to the street and try, because I'd miss my flight.

Soon the ride showed up and it all worked out. I got some banana pancakes to go at the airport and ate them in a rush as our plane boarded. It was half empty, understandable, given the price of the tickets.

Landing in Bangkok felt wonderful. I was home to the crazy roads and infrastructure, along with the speedy drivers. Such busyness!

I went inside my old apartment complex and said hi to our security guard, who as per usual was all smiles and friendliness. My next missions involved some errand running. Hanita had been kind enough to check on my tailored clothes a few days prior before she flew back to Canada and confirmed that they were ready and in our neighbourhood. Last time they had been mailed away accidentally.

I went down to the tailor's with the little Canada sticker in the window. She ushered me in and had me try on the skirt and blazer as well as the dress. The fuchsia suit set needed to be taken in at the waist a bit as I had lost some weight travelling. Probably because I stopped stressed eating ice cream on a daily basis. The dress didn't look too flattering immediately, but it was long enough that I could wear it to work back home. 

The tailor was also quite excited that our arms were now the same colour. "Look! Same, same!" she had exclaimed. We were both excited for different reasons. I finally had some colour, and she was getting closer to my level of paleness. Skin whitener was a big thing in many of these countries and something I really had to look out for as an additive in their body washes and face creams. The mind frame was that tans were for poor farmers, the rich stayed inside and kept their skin ghostly.

Walking down the streets gave me a sense of serenity. I smiled and waved at the woman making delectable fried chicken, went past the tables set up in the back alley for the tasty red pork soup vendor. Motorcycle taxis whizzed by and people went to small carts or fold up tables to but their vegetables and fruit midday. In the neighborhood, I had a place. Foreigners in this Thai area were pretty much all English teachers working at the same school. There was no other reason to be here.

I continued down the street to close my bank account and withdraw all the cash. I had hoped I could keep it open for a future trip, but they just shut it down. I had a huge wad of cash, which I stored away in my luggage for safe keeping. I kept a bit for lunch at a familiar restaurant with a yellow awning; chili fried morning glory, a tasty treat. Other than a few students from the nearby university, I was one of their few patrons.

I trekked down to Big C, a large supermarket, so I could stock up on a few curry pastes, spices and pad thai packets. The market stalls in the parking lot were empty since it wasn't yet evening. Once inside, remembered my first reaction to the main floor of the mall complex. Like the rest of Thailand, zoning or grouping similar ideas just didn't happen. An arcade, clothing and trinket vendors, another bank, a hair salon and food stalls all occupied the small space to fill the air with a cacophony of interesting noises.

On the way out, I stopped at Dairy Queen on the main floor to enjoy their mango sticky rice blizzard, finally back in season. They had been a favourite of mine when I arrived but disappeared when mango season ended.

After managing to pack of my belongings in my travel bag and the cheap market one I had acquired in Chiang Mai, I went for a swim to reward myself. The cool water was so refreshing. There were even showers in the bathrooms so I got to be clean as well.

My next mission was one of my favourites, a haircut. Thai haircuts were revered things by us Westerners who weren't used to getting a lengthy scalp massage with our hair cuts.

I went into a shop with bright purple walls and a man with a shirt to match. The shampoo and massage got rid of any headaches leftover from Laos and lasted a satisfyingly long time. He trimmed up my split ends and styled my hair afterward. Not only did I not have to wash my own hair, I got to look and smell great for the plane. The price was equivalent to $4 US. I left him a tip as well and thanked him. It was just as wonderful as I had expected.

By the time I had finished, I sat on the bench the courtyard and read a bit as my co-workers came back from work at the school. I chatted with some familiar faces from Chiang Mai, sharing stories of my trip and listening to their holidays as well. Some were renewing their teaching contracts while others were moving back home.

Carrie and I had a good chat in her room about how rough the school was being to them lately, giving all sorts of demands and no time to complete them. They also didn't want to pay her for certain things for silly reasons.

She said she couldn't have even imagined when we left as we had exams and workbooks to correct, grades to enter, report card comments to write as well as moving out of out apartments and clearing out our desks. It had been rather rough, but I assured her as soon as her time was up, in a few days, life would start looking beautiful again.

I headed out in search of pad thai, but the guy who owned the cart had apparently been gone for weeks. I settled on som tam, papaya salad with a sweet sauce and peanuts. I brought it up to Jessica and Sam's room to visit before we left. I was happy that our last meeting wouldn't be that silly drunken phone conversation in Chiang Mai. It was weird to be absent from the most recent memories and school events since we had all been such and close knit group before.

They, Carrie and another co-worker helped carry my bags out to the curb when it was finally time for me to catch a cab. I stood there a moment longer than I had to and gave them each a goodbye hug, wishing them all the best. It had been a tough year for all of us newbies, but we made it through it together.

That was it. My Asia and Bangkok chapter had come to a close. I couldn't believe people who had essentially been my family for ten months, would suddenly evaporate from my life. We'd all go our own directions.

The cab pulled away and I watched the apartment gate disappear with a heavy heart. Nearly everything we passed down the road had memories. The market where I first got food poisoning, as well as found tons of weird things like Christmas sweaters and polka-dot teapots. The hospital where I had spent far too much time. Big C! The seven story mall with a movie theatre, amusement and water parks. We passed the school where I had given everything I had and more until there was nothing left except apathy. Heck, I'd even miss that place a little.

"You go home?" the cab driver asked.

"Chai Kha," I confirmed.

"When you come back?"

The tears continued down my cheeks as I gave him my answer, "I don't know."

It hurt to leave, to know that even if I came back nothing would be the same. The people would be different. The streets were already changing in my monthly absences. The big supportive group of wonderful people was already split in all directions as people went about their lives post-Thailand.

But we'd always have the memories we shared. I had more amazing experiences than I could even begin to list and it had all started in the big, crazy city of Bangkok. For that, I knew I was an extremely blessed human being and deeply grateful.

Someday I'd be back. I knew it deep down in my heart since I had already left a part of it in the city.