Erez with the Dreadlocks; Singapore Sling

We got up at nine AM after a deep sleep and gone to find some coffee and breakfast on the streets, that seemed like everything that happened there last night had just faded away and swapped with cars and working people. We found a small and quiet alley in which a few women cooked and sold food, and we ate there skewers with fried chicken and papaya salad. Afterward we saw a shriveled old woman with a shawl on her head and three teeth that stood out of her lower jaw, who stood by a wooden wagon at the street corner and offered iced coffee. The coffee in Thailand is an acquired taste. She mixed dark liquids out of different sized pots, poured a large amount of sugar, opened a can with thick condensed milk, and mixed it all in a big colorful plastic cup full of crushed ice. The coffee was very spiced and sweet, and even though it took me a while to get used to the taste, I would ow kill for another cup of it.

We planed to go to one of Thailand’s islands and stay there for a few days before the flight to Vietnam, so we entered a sleazy traveling agency beneath our hotel. An Israeli guy named Erez with dreadlocks all the way to the floor was working there, and he told us that he lived there for nine years. I had a light suspicion that he escaped from Israel for some reason. He arranged us a bus ride and a ferry for the next morning to Ko Chang, and recommended on more secluded areas over there.

We kept strolling around the city, curious to see everything, experience everything. All the fears and confusions I’ve felt the day before just faded away and I was full with energy, just waiting to be hungry again to try out more from the street-food that appeared from every corner. We had lunch at a restaurant that Roni saw that morning, and ate there a spicy salad with papaya and tiny shrimps with salt, fried noodles, another papaya salad with a big crab, and some sticky rice to balance the spiciness. Each table had a small set with peanuts, hot chili with fish sauce, and various spices. One of the employees approached our table once in a while and asked with a wide smile “Spicy OK?” and we nodded with red sweaty faces. When it was too hot outside we went to the hotel’s pool and had Singapore Sling out of a huge cup with funny decorations, and by the afternoon we went out a again to a long trip around the city. We had spring rolls and phad thai that we bought from a woman on the street, and afterwards we drank iced coffee which an impatient guy poured into a nylon bag full of ice. We escaped the touristic streets, and looked at the everyday life of the people around. We saw a girl’s school right next to a boy’s school, and the children just finished their school day and walked around with green and white uniforms. We looked at shops, working people. We had iced lemon tea at a cafe with loud music that was ran by a chubby man who tried to hush a crying baby, and mostly teenagers worked there. I tried to put myself in their place, imagine what it’s like to finish school and go to work in this crazy city, that for them probably seems almost banal.

Towards the evening we came back to sit in the pool with some beers. We spoke with our families back home and afterwards I looked at the plump British tourists with henna tattoos they made down the street, sitting in the water with their IPads. The sun began to set and the grey skies were painted orange. We went down again to the street that began to wake up, and had a great crab soup at a seafood restaurant. I felt like I can’t get enough of this place, even though it was ridden with tourists. We just couldn’t finish that evening and even after we came back to the room, around 11 or 12 PM, we went outside again and had spring rolls and chicken skewers while sitting on a building’s steps. We arrived there about a week after a terror attack took place right there and severe cops with motorcycles drove between the people here and there, but we almost couldn’t have guessed that this thing happened there only a few days before.

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