Hotel Under Construction

Today we switched hotels, and as I presumed, trouble was on the horizon. Elisabeth had been paying extra so that we could stay at a normal hotel, and now I had picked a new hotel through the Tourism of Thailand office.

The hotel was ironically called “The Best Bangkok House.” That kind of gave me a chuckle after arriving. It was located in a very sketchy neighborhood, far from any tourist area, and had little access to the sky train or the metro. The quickest way to the sky train was by walking about a mile down train tracks through a very poor neighborhood and several muddy construction sites. If we tried walking down the paved roads to the sky train, we had to deal with TONS of locals staring at us angrily, tuk tuk drivers harassing us to no end, taxis and trucks nearly running us over (one night Elisabeth’s arm was hit by a side mirror of a taxi flying by!!), and the suffocating exhaust.
In this area, the local’s gaze gives me the vibe that they hate our guts. We usually get one of two reactions; Either they see us and immediately break out into laughter, saying stuff about us in Thai, or they stare with a frown and don’t say hello back.

Nighttime is the worst in this area. I told Elisabeth it would be better if she didn’t leave the hotel at night at all. I have walked the half mile to the local 7 eleven several times at night, and each time I was equally terrified. I never see any tourists (or westerners at all) when I make this dangerous walk to 7 eleven. Only street vendors, local Thais hanging around, and many prostitutes populate the street. And every time I go alone, the prostitutes and tuk tuk drivers swarm me, trying to get at my wallet. Do you remember that scene from Star Wars Episode 4 when Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi are on Tatooine, and they go into that crazy scary bar looking for Han Solo? That is what walking around the 7 eleven at night is like. Exactly like that. Only I don’t have a light saber and Obi Wan to protect me like Luke did. All I have is a passport and an international calling card.

Another big downer about our hotel is that it is under construction. Not only is our hotel under construction, but the 2 adjacent building are under construction as well. Also, major construction is going on near the train tracks, which is extremely loud. So basically every day around 8 or 9 in the morning, it sounds like 5 men with jackhammers are on the floor directly above us. And I am not joking, that is literally what it sounds like. I know I like to exaggerate a lot, but this is true. The whole room shakes violently. So at night we get a break from the construction noise, but a train rolls by our window every 20-30 minutes, honking loudly as it barrels by. It is by far the worst hotel Elisabeth and I have ever been to.

What surprises me is how close these people live to the train tracks. Some of these small aluminum shacks are merely feet from the train tracks. If they step out of their door without being careful, a passing train could easily hit them. Our walks through this area during the day where just as nerve racking as walking to the local 7 eleven at night. This area seemed more as private property, and we were just strolling through these people’s front yards. These very, very poor people’s yards. I was fascinated at their living arrangements, and wondered what most of them did for a living. I wondered if any of them worked, how much they made in a day, how big each family was, if the neighbors were friendly with one another, etc.

I am ashamed to admit that I was far too intimidated to approach any of these people and ask if I could shoot video. I couldn’t figure out a good way to go about doing that. I thought of paying someone to translate for me, and to have my translator explain how I was making short documentaries, but I never got around to it.