August 30, 2007

Bangkok (THAILAND)

Catching Our Breath in Bangkok and Finding a Fortune Teller in Chinatown

Our over-night bus from Ubon Ratchathani arrived in Bangkok at 4am this morning, and we quickly took a taxi to the Khao San road to find a place to sleep. The Khao San road is famous among on the travel circuit in Southeast Asia because it is to backpackers what Las Vegas is to gamblers. It embodies the best and the worst of aspects of the backpacking lifestyle as it caters to people of all shapes and sizes, basically offering anything anyone could possibly want.

We checked into a quiet guest house a few blocks away from the ever-noisy Khao San, and after showering and freshening up Jo went to visit her parents (they live in Bangkok). I had the morning and afternoon free to catch up on activities like getting a haircut, replenishing my supplies, and buying cheap clothes to replace those already lost (usually when they are not returned from the laundry).

In the afternoon I settled down at a cafe and started reading a book Jo gave me called A Fortune-Teller Told Me. The story is about an Italian journalist who visited a fortune teller in Hong Kong, and was subsequently warned of a plane crash in 1991. I do not want to give the story away, but I was intrigued by the idea of visiting a real fortune-teller - not just the kind of tarot card reader you can find on any street in Asia. I have always believed fortune-telling was utter nonsense, but for whatever reason the novelty of it all had me hooked.

When Jo returned in the afternoon I ran the idea by her and she seemed to give her approval - or more likely she was just gracious enough to keep her real thoughts to herself. Since neither of us had any idea how to find a fortune teller in Bangkok, we decided taxied to Chinatown and started searching there. The process of finding a fortune teller in Chinatown seemed simple while riding in the taxi, but once we hopped out onto the busy street of Chinatown reality began setting in. How the hell does one go about finding a fortune teller?

We started by going up and down side streets asking people if they knew a fortune teller. When our English yielded only blank stares I switched to Mandarin hoping for more success - it was Chinatown, after all. Despite most of the people being of Chinese descent, no one seemed to speak Mandarin, and if they did it was an obscure dialect such as Hokkien . Jo was hardly surprised as most Bangkok Chinese are third or fourth generation Chinese and already lost most of their roots. I began worrying because I felt like this was a hopeless cause, but I didn't want to go back empty-handed.

Our big break came as we passed a carpet shop where I spotted a well-ornamented Buddhist shrine tucked away in the back of the shop. We walked in and I began asking the woman behind the counter (in Mandarin) if she could help us. Immediately, her son came over with a big grin on his face. Not only was he surprised I was speaking Mandarin, but he was even more surprised two Westerners were seeking out a fortune teller. In Chinese culture, fortune tellers are as much a part of daily life as gambling, the strength of the family, and the everlasting love of money.

Word quickly spread of what we were looking for as old women were called over, phone calls were made, and stacks of business cards were scoured. Apparently, the shop's owner's aunt uses Bangkok's most famous fortune-teller, and after nearly an hour of waiting they found the phone number for us. What a turn of events: Jo and I went from thinking this entire ordeal was a hopeless endeavor that was stupid to begin with to winding up with the best fortune-teller in Bangkok. We said goodbye to everyone in the shop - several of the old women were still beside themselves that I could speak Mandarin - and found a payphone to schedule an appointment.

When I called a secretary answered the phone, but she spoke no English and our spirits quickly dropped. Fortunately, the fortune-teller came on the line and he spoke great English. Since Jo and I were planning to fly to Myanmar in two days we arranged to meet the following day. Although it was the fortune-teller's day off, he agreed to meet us at 8am at his home. We wrote down the address, said goodbye, and gave each other one of those funny looks that seemed to say "What the hell just happened?!"

For the remainder of the evening we hung out at a bar along the Khao San road and chatted with all the drunk travelers who happened by. We couldn't stay out too long though because we had an important meeting in the morning. I wonder if the fortune-teller already knew whether we would be on time or not? I figured I would ask him in the morning, if I could remember.