How To Do Thailand (From Bangkok to Phuket)

Everybody's got their own crazy Thailand story and every one of those people would probably try to one up the other, telling them theirs is the craziest. Just google "crazy Thailand stories" and with a few clicks, you'll end up reading about the Full Moon parties, drug dealing tuk-tuk drivers, and the classic getting-hit-in-the-face-with-a-live-goldfish-shot-out-of-a-stripper's-vagina. But I'm not here to do that.

Sure, I have a few stories - like the one where I saw the best twerk show of my life, or that one time an angry Thai man shouted at me from across this field for whatever reason, or that one night my friend and I were about to enter this shady disco bar (...) - stories I would never tell my grandchildren about. [But nothing too extreme to worry my mom about.]

I'm here to tell you about my first real, independent travel.

8 days. We were only there for 8 days... and it's already one of the best trips I've ever had (even though the gods of Thailand did not like me at all).

You see, I wasn't even gone that long. But when you're away from all sorts of responsibilities for a week, you start to get comfortable being amidst people who can't speak your language. You start to get comfortable living off your suitcase and running out of clean clothes to wear. You start to get comfortable being away from everything that screams "home." It's exciting, fun, and new every time. You go to sleep at night, thinking of what could possibly happen the next day. Your mind wanders but nothing prepares you for the madness that's about to happen.

And then it just hits you one night, it's your last day and home doesn't sound so appealing at all. Even though you've started longing for your bed at home, you still wouldn't mind sleeping at a couple more hotel beds. You've just gotten into the pace of traveling from one place to another and stopping feels like the worst idea ever. Because even though there were some downs, the ups were some of the best ones anyone could ever imagine. 

I Swam With Whale Sharks in Cebu

There's this moment between taking the first dip and getting settled in the water that scares the life out of me. I love the ocean, I love the fishes, hell, I even love the sharks but every time I go under, my body starts to curl up to the surface, feeling alien amidst the deep blue. I need about a few seconds before the fear of getting bitten by tiny fishes start to feel like ticklish kisses instead. The fear I once had seems ridiculous now.

And so, I’m staring down this shark a few feet away from me. It’s blue, white dots all over, and mouth as wide as the length of my arm. I’m calm, actually, excited even. It’s what we came here for. It’s a whale shark, chill. I’ve done this before.

I Met Him in Chinatown

I remember everything, from the moment I first spotted the curly-haired man in orange hippie garb to the moment I tried speaking to him. My memory of that short time is so vivid in my brain, I hope it stays that way even as years go by. 

I was in Singapore with two of my friends and we were there for a music festival. I try to watch my favorite artists whenever I can so, I'm glad my friends do too.

I've always loved music for as long as I can remember.

I remember waking up very early one morning and sneaking off to one corner in the room to listen to Craig David's Born to Do It on my portable cd player. I was mouthing all the lyrics to Rendezvous, trying not make a sound because everyone else was still asleep. But of course, come breakfast, my sister calls me out on it and tells me it didn't seem like I was trying at all to be quiet. Busted! and Yikes! Why was I listening to Craig David at 9 years old?