As my husband referred to the previous two bugs purchased as Jesus bugs, I had said they needed to be turned into a Trinity. Said Trinity has been accomplished, adding as promised the Thailand 5-Horned Rhino Bug (and at a much better price, I might add). Alas, no photo as we have no wireless access anymore. Such things will have to wait until our return to the States.

We have ridden elephants, ridden in oxcarts, and walked through fruit markets today. I fed a grown elephant and later a baby elephant, ate (not nearly enough) and shopped. I'm ready to collapse. I think Liz is updating her journal in a big way, so tonight I'm not going to try. In any case, this internet place closes at 11:00, so it wouldn't give me nearly enough time to yammer on.

Tomorrow is Liz's last appt., we'll shop a bit more, and maybe go to the Snake Farm. Somewhere in there we're going to try to fit in a Chinese Dim Sum buffet -- we're determined. I have STILL not found that thing I want to get for my Dad, and it's going to break my heart if the best I can come up with for him is a darned t-shirt after seeing that. I could just knock my head against a wall for not buying it when I saw it.

Anyway, buenos noches (I know, I know -- no accents) from Bangkok, Thailand. I dearly want to hear Liz speak Spanish to someone here and see if they'll try to answer her in Thai-accented Spanish.

hee hee

Yes, it's true. I bought bugs. A big green one, and a walking stick that has to be 10 inches long. They are safety ensconced in nice wood and glass boxes, and heavier than I expected. Silly me, I never gave a thought as to how I'm going to get these home without cracking the glass. Anyway, these cost me 2,000 baht for both, which is about five bucks. Then he tried to tempt me with a 700 baht bat, but me being mostly a horror writer, that hit the guilt meter a little too hard. The bugs make me sad they didn't avoid capture in the tropical forest, but the bat pinned with its wings spread and teeth exposed kind of horrifies me. I would much prefer it was flying around at dusk, eating these damned Thailand mosquitoes.

Liz is doing, in her words, 1000% better -- yay! She's chipper, eating great, and walking the halls. They are planning on releasing her tomorrow. She didn't take a sleeping pill, but slept fairly well anyway. She'll be sore for a bit but this is a vast improvement. I left her after she ate lunch so she could nap.

Speaking of lunch, I found a food court in the hospital. This is like what we would see at a mall, except you put money on electronic cards at the start, and then each vendor runs the card through a machine and deducts the appropriate amount as you visit his or her area. Unused amounts are refunded. Why don't we do this in the States? It's much faster than having each customer fumble with money, having grumpy cashiers count out the wrong amount, and moves everything along much smoother. I think the key is that all the vendors in the court belong to one company, which would explain that. Anyway, this is a much better one than at the mall, where I lunched yesterday. I had Thai spring rolls with sweet/spicy chili sauce and a mango/passion fruit frappe. Cost, 150 baht, or slightly over three bucks. Lunch was two and a half hours ago, and of course I am hungry again, but at least I know how to fix that. Oh, and I bought two pair of brightly colored loose pants in Thai patterns, which cost me 300 baht-- slightly under $2.00 each. I think I'll buy more.

Here are my treasured bugs:



Note that propping them up is the bed pillow. Yes, they're that big. I've uploaded some more pictures and descriptions in a Gallery. I'm still not sure about linking to stuff from here. I also don't really have the capability to edit the pictures, so folks are gonna have to turn sideways to see some of them. Deal.

OH! I need to relay the "F*** with the Americans Saga" that both Liz and I agree is going on here regarding the shower. Yes, the shower. The first morning we used it, it was at best cool-- I skipped my hair because everyone in the world ought to know by now how I hate being cold. We asked if they would check it, they did, and fixed it. It's a standard faucet: to the left is hot, to the right is cold. There's even a little round indicator that is colored red on the left and blue on the right.

The third day, Liz gets in the shower and gets right back out. Calls the desk-- no hot water. 20 seconds later (literally), there's a knock at the door and one of the desk people comes in to check. He tells Liz "You have to turn faucet to right for hot water." He goes away while we stare at each other, because we KNOW it was the opposite way yesterday.

This morning, I go to take a shower... no hot water, no matter which way I turn it. I let the thing run and run and run, give up, and call the desk. Meanwhile, there IS hot water in the sink, which is right next to the shower. He says he'll send someone up to check. I check it again: no hot water. 20 seconds later the phone rings. This time it's a woman asking if I've turned the faucet to the LEFT where the red indicator is. I say I turned it in all directions; she says "Maybe you need run for a minute." I say I did, she says she'll send someone in to check. Just in case, I go check it again.

It's hot. When you turn it to the LEFT.

I think they literally have an on/off switch for the hot water heater, to save energy (in this room, the lights and A/C only turn on when you slide your card key into a holder next to the thermostat-- it ensures that everything's off when no one's in the room, although that can be foiled if you really wanted to when you have two occupants). Since I was sleep-screwed-up this morning, I don't think they expected anyone to be in the room so late, and they shut off the hot water heater. That's what -I- think.

As to the directional thing... I have no idea.

So.

So today we went to the National Museum, very interesting although too much of it was "no pictures." Such an extravagantly decorative culture. I'm particuarly enamored of the mother of pearl inlay stuff. Perhaps I'll be able to find some small trinket to bring home.

In the meantime, we ate Egyptian, having discovered that being only a block or so away from the Pakistani embassy puts us solidly in Arabic food territory. A good thing in its own right, although we definitely want to experience the native cuisine. But we had a tasty Egyptian dinner, then I had watermelon from a food vendor. I even drank a glass of water at breakfast this morning, having decided to cast my fate to Buddha (well, within reason).

Speaking of within reason, sandwiched between a fruit vendor and a clothing vendor was a cart offering tasty tidbits of roasted insects. Not small, mind you, so perhaps calling them "tidbity" isn't truly doing them justice. There were extremely large and leggy crickets, mealworms, grubs, unidentifable black beetles (those were the smallest, at about the size of my thumbnail), and several varieties of, you guessed it, roasted cockroaches. Now cockroaches are the only insects on this earth about which I've had nightmares. To exorcise my own demons, I even wrote a particularly dark story about the relationship between humanity and cockroaches which was subsequently published in City Slab #6. While I'm not particularly fond of spiders in the house, and I might even freak a bit if the size slides to the large size, that is nothing compared to what happens if I see a cockroach in my house. Dishes are ripped out of cabinets. Boric acid is flung behind everything. Professional help is purchased, then forced to return if one of those nasty things dares to put the hairy tip of a leg within viewing range. Having read up on such things (I couldn't help myself-- it was when Survivor first came out), I have it on good authority that while 90% of the world's bugs are edible, fairly tasty and packed with protein, cockroaches taste "nasty." I specifically remember that word-- "nasty." Please, Buddha (when in Thailand, do as the Thais do), do not let me have a nightmare about having to eat cockroaches tonight.

But on to more fun stuff. Farther down the street is a different vendor who has, uh, stuffed bugs. Ok, preserved, or whatever you call it when you do something to a bug to keep it presentable after it's dead. Formeldehyded?

Anyway, there is a bug that I must have, I must! Not just ANY bug, but a gimongous (pron. "jie-MUNG-ous") one, bright green and as big as my hand (I am not kidding), all neatly displayed on cotton in a tidy box. Having duly considered this, it looks like a leaf crawler fed a gluttoneous diet of nuclear waste. I've given up trying to find something to show folks via the web-- my connection here in Thailand is too slow and searching on the computer (frackin' mouse won't work) is too clunky. Suffice to say it's huge, bright green, and you likely wouldn't see it in a tropical Thailand forest because it would melt away in the lush, wet greenery. Alas, someone clearly did see this one, which I believe should be lovingly treasured by me.

So, it is (a) not an animal (being of the insect family), and (b) not live (thus avoiding any prohibition on live animal clauses). Surely I can have one. Can't I? Surely I can take one, so nicely boxed up, out of Thailand into the U.S., can't I?

I MUST HAVE A BUG!

Really, it could be worse. The Husband has insisted via a call on Skype that I may not have a bug (like that's gonna stop me). Poor little boy has no clue how much worse it could be. He should catch a glimpse of the arachnid one row to the left and two rows down on the vendor's table. With legs spread wide, the tarantula (?) has a span considerly bigger than my hand with all the digits splayed.

Ah, but we already have tarantulas in Arizona. Live ones.

Life would be so much better with a big GREEN bug...

Well, having gone to the Monday morning appointment and been told by the receptionist that it is, in fact, Sunday, we have finally figured out what day it is (although it was busy enough at the place to be a bright and early Monday in the States). I think we're going to a museum. We had breakfast, Stir-Fried Morning Glory Vegetables (hot-- filled with Thai peppers!) and Fried Rice with Pickled Pork Sausage (hot-- again!), two tall, cold glasses of pineapple juice. Very good, very different from the bland American fried eggs, toast and sausage. The waiter recommended the vegetables, and they were great.

Poor Liz. We finished eating about an hour and a half ago (give or take). Having walked to the (wrong) appt. and back, I am now hungry again. We were just talking about food; she's full, my mouth is watering. She has no idea how I can eat. Even my husband thinks I have a tape worm.

Starring Von Navarro and Liz D.!

Entre: Bangkok Airport, where the Immigration Officer hardly blinked an eye at Liz's passport, which is due to expire on 4/17. While we had made a major to-do about this to the point of nearly not going, she gave Liz a "sour look" (Liz's description), asked when Liz was leaving, and processed her into the country. For something that nearly derailed the entire trip, this was rather anticlimactic.

Taxi Driver: Spare you the boring and usual details about a driver who tried to get a flat rate instead of turning on the meter. Liz insisted and the metered fare was significantly less.

We are now tucked into the room where we'll be staying for the next week or so, until Liz is all better from her medical stuff. It is 7:16 Sunday morning. At home it is... lemme think... I'm struggling here... 5:17 Saturday afternoon.

This trip has made me older than everyone I know back home. Now that sucks!

Running a wee bit late on my way to Liz's, but I'm out of here within the next 10 minutes!

Look out, Thailand -- HERE WE COME!