Aug 16, 2010
How interesting that as I turn away from Seattle women — and begin getting my Thailand Visa Application in order — I should hear from my old Thai girlfriend Oiy! (Maybe girlfriend is too strong a word — we were together a couple weeks, if that.) It had been over fifteen months since she’d last emailed me a greeting, telling me what a nice guy I was. This time the message was a bit longer, the gist of it being that she is living at home, has no boyfriend, and wants me to call her if I come to Thailand. What this really means is that whatever support she’d wrangled from the latest Westerner to fall for her has dried up.
Oiy had been my first experience with a Thai bargirl. Back in 2008, when I was a womanizing neophyte fresh off the airplane, awestruck by the tropical “scenery”, I fell for her during my second week in the country. Looking back, it was a case of encountering a lady who had an alluring body and could make me laugh. And the fact that she would happily be my lover without my having to pass any boyfriend auditions left me al-most giddy with anticipation.
It didn’t last of course. Having only a tourist visa, I had to depart when my thirty days were up and once back in the U.S., the thought of sup-porting a Thai lady with daughter lost what little appeal it might have had. (In fact, I was never comfortable with the idea. It was too much, too soon.) I did, however, wire her the remaining money I’d promised, then a goodbye when she tried to wheedle more out of me.
But I was not forgotten. To my surprise, I got that email from her last year. As I said, it was a pleasant hello laced with a compliment or two. When I sent an equally friendly response, that opened the gates. Her next message was another plea for money, which I did not bother to respond to.
Now it’s undoubtedly the same old story: Oiy is looking for a way to remain at home without working in the bars and is once again going to try and tap me for support. She knows I’m a soft touch. In fact, if she had not been so quick off the bat asking for help last year, I most certainly would have offered it on my own.
At least I now understand what’s going on: I’m being offered a business proposition. In return for my support, I will have a girlfriend patiently awaiting whenever I visit. (And by the way, she knows nothing about my plans to relocate to her country. Please don’t tell her!)
Nice body notwithstanding, I think I’m going to wait until I get moved over there and settled in before I risk another entanglement. I’ve got too much going on right now to be dealing with her.
Aug 24, 2010
The Thais certainly love paperwork! I imagine their consulate down in L.A. must rent out a warehouse to hold all the bulky visa applications they receive each year.
For my humble solicitation, I had to make four copies of the main page of my passport, the one that contains my picture and expiration date (the passport’s, not mine). Along with this, four passport-sized photos. Then there was the police report, notarized medical form and latest checking account statement (showing a hefty deposit) that all required a spin through the Xerox machine. Those people down at the consulate are in some ways going to know me better than my mother ever did.
But the fun did not end there. I also had to do a trip to my friendly bank to get a manager’s notarized signature on what’s called a deposit verification letter, which proves that the funds in my checking account actually do exist. Lastly, there was the matter of finding a “Contact & Guarantor”. This has to be someone who actually resides in the country. Fortunately, my friend and Thailand mentor Alex graciously agreed to volunteer. (If it were not for him showing me around, I never would have become so infatuated with the place. I owe the guy big time.)
Then it was off to Kinkos again for more copies (and I’m now on a first name basis with a couple of the employees). But that was the final expe-dition. Arriving back at my hotel, I managed to assemble the blizzard of forms and copies in such a way that they matched the order in the con-sulate’s application instructions. The intent is to make things as easy as possible for whoever ends up processing my special package. It never pays to get on the bad side of a bureaucrat.
Tomorrow I’ll make a final check of the paperwork, attach my passport, and mail the whole thing off.
Laborious as all this was, I’m not complaining. I understand the Thais’ need to screen applicants. My country, in fact, is even more stringent with would-be residents. And in a perverse sort of way, I’ve enjoyed the challenges. Perhaps I have too much free time on my hands.
Sept 12, 2010
As of this afternoon I’m ninety percent sure I’ll be departing around four weeks from today. What’s been giving me pause is an unresolved health issue (knee ligaments that I badly twisted last year, which three doctors so far have been unable to correct). But since the condition is hardly life-threatening and not causing me any pain while walking, I’ve decided not to let it hold me back. If I start having serious troubles, I can always visit a Thai physician. Hard to imagine them being any worse than the ones I’ve gone to here in the U.S.
Good news! Two days ago I received my passport back from the L.A. Consulate. Attached to one of the pages is what’s called an Entry Visa in shades of Regal Blue with “Kingdom of Siam” as the heading. This gives me permission to enter the country and receive the…drum roll please…Retirement Visa Stamp at immigration. Good for up to twelve months of fun.
The second piece of welcome news was a reply from Jii, the manager of the guest house in Pattaya (a city about two and a half hours south of Bangkok) where I stayed the last time I was there. I’d emailed her a while back saying that I was thinking of coming over again. This was well received, with her telling me that although she is no longer working at the guest house, her sister is and that I can get a room with a good monthly rate there. So the accommodations are ready and waiting.
Things are starting to fall into place.
One aspect I’m going to particularly enjoy this time around in Thailand is not having to watch the calendar. In my previous visits, there was always the pressure of trying to cram as many experiences in as possible before my thirty day Tourist Visa expired and I had to depart. Now, with my shiny new Retirement Visa, I can take things at a more leisurely pace. During the day, I’ll work on my memoir, read paperback novels and study the language. Evenings will see me eating out (real Thai cuisine!), playing pool, and meeting cute women, all of said activities to be found just down the block from where I’ll be staying.
It will be my own little comfy world.
Sep 20, 2010
A month ago, I determined the best way to handle my initial expenses in Thailand was to smuggle over a hefty amount of the local currency, then promptly open an account at a Thai bank. (Wells Fargo, which has tried selling me everything from insurance to CDs to toasters, no longer offers traveler’s checks.) This still left the question of how to replenish my funds, which I recently posed to my two financial institutions.
The Wells Fargo Customer Rep I spoke with explained that yes, I could set up a wire transfer from my account here over to my Thailand bank with no problem. Just personally visit any Wells Fargo branch in the U.S. with the appropriate information. But hold on a minute! I’m not going to know what the the destination bank is until I’ve flown over there and opened an account. Is there any way I can initiate the wire transfer from Thailand?
Vanguard, on the other hand, knew exactly what to do, demonstrating once again why I’ve been a loyal customer of theirs for some fifteen years. The Vanguard representative will send me a form I can fill out and mail from over there once I choose a bank. And if I make sure the name on my Thailand bank account is the same as what is on my Vanguard assets, no signature guarantees — a messy process — would be required. An entry for my Thai bank will get created in my Vanguard profile; all I’ll need to do is log on and with just a few clicks, kick off the wire transfer. Can be done from anywhere with an internet connection.
Sep 26, 2010
The next major Thailand task is to decide what I’m going to be taking with me. It helps having already been over there. In fact, when I returned from my last Asia adventure, I made a point of identifying anything that might be useful on a return trip, but was not needed for my U.S. lifestyle (e.g. extra washcloth, insect repellant, condoms). These were stashed away in a small garbage bag so I could easily retrieve them. (Part of me knew that I’d someday be going back.) There’s also a Word document on my PC containing important travel items to bring along, which will serve as a useful starting point.
For a tropical climate, the key is not so much what clothes you bring (t-shirts & shorts being sufficient), but what medicines you take along. You never have to worry about getting too cold, just getting sick, usually from the food or the flu. To that end, one should have the means to deal with cramps, diarrhea, nausea, headaches, congestion and coughing. (Really sounds like I’m going to have a fun time, doesn’t it?) To be sure, most if not all of the remedies to these can be purchased from a Thai pharmacy, but I’ve discovered, to my extreme annoyance, that foreign medicines are usually much wimpier than their U.S. counterparts. Better to bring stuff you know will work.
Oct 3, 2010
In the airport these days, you see people lugging these monster suitcases behind them. Big enough to have contained the Hiroshima atomic bomb. With room for a hair dryer and cosmetics bag.
I have never believed in traveling that way and even as I prepared for a possible year abroad, I remained focused on keeping my “stuff” to a minimum. To encourage this, I would limit my luggage to a backpack and a small, Softside Samsonite suitcase (try quickly saying that four times). Initially I feared it would be like packing sardines into cans, yet it was far less a challenge than I expected.
To begin with, there was of course no need for any cold weather clothing. Just stuff seven t-shirts, six pairs of socks and some underwear into the backpack. This left the shoes, two pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans for the suitcase. (More than traveling light, I was going to be living light.) As for the toiletries, medicines and important papers, they could be crammed into the side compartments of the suitcase. No problem at all.
But a critical test remained. Since the suitcase lacked wheels, would I be able to carry it, the backpack, and an ancient (1998) Compaq PC without getting a hernia? To find out, I packed everything up, fitted myself into the straps of the now-fat backpack, slung the PC pouch over my shoulder and lifted the suitcase. Glancing in the mirror, I resembled one of those Apollo astronauts skipping about on the surface of the moon, encased in their bulky suits. But I had to deal with earth’s gravity.
My hotel (The Mediterranean Inn), has a charming sun deck on top with lovely views of the city, Elliott Bay and the Olympic Mountains. It’s a nice place to sit and let one’s thoughts wander and I decided to use this for my endurance test. After climbing two flights of stairs, I made myself march back and forth in front of the empty lawn chairs for about ten minutes. This was by no means some macho exhibition; I wanted to make sure that after I’d gotten off the plane in Bangkok I’d have the stamina to haul all my travel gear through immigration, across the cav-ernous Suvarnabhumi Airport, then out to a waiting taxi, at which point I could collapse in the back seat.
When the ten minutes were up and I was still standing, I returned to my room, happily shed my baggage, and collapsed on the bed.
Mission accomplished. It pays to be thorough!