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Anonymous asked: I'm wondering or you're Lee Johnson, from Vancouver. I'm B. J. Van Etten ceo of Internet. Dating bjvetten. gmail
Wow! A voice from the past. Yes, that is me. Though I haven’t lived in Vancouver since 2000. How are you? What is keeping you busy?
Monday, March 5, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Diving near where they filmed ‘The Beach’ - photo by Lee Johnson
My new job - diving every day
I’ve been very busy these past few weeks. I started my Dive Master (DM) internship. Basically a DM is a step below a dive instructor. So I dive almost every day now. Sometimes I go out on boat trips and guide groups. Sometimes I assist in teaching courses. Mostly I just dive as much as I can.
I did a two-day trip to the Phi Phi islands recently and will do a few more in the next few weeks. We did 7 dives over those 2 days including a night dive and a ship wreak dive. The trip takes us overnight to a beautiful resort in Phi Phi then we work our way back the next day with 3 dives. Lately I’ve been doing day trips here and there. The water temperature is usually 29C and the marine life is amazing!
I’ve also been training a lot. Some days I do manage to get up in the morning (6:30am) and train for 2 hours then dive during the day (usually assisting a training course) then evening training for 2 or 3 hours.
Big fight coming soon
In fact, I was scheduled to fight on the 17th in Bangla stadium. The promoter came in and took pictures for the promotional posters and stuff. I was very nervous about it all because it only gave me 12 days to get ready for a very big fight. The stadium probably holds 300 to 400 people all shouting and yelling. I wasn’t nervous about the fight itself oddly enough, just about stepping into the ring with the bright lights and all those sounds and trying to stay calm and relaxed and focused. It’s five 3-minute rounds, and although I’ve seen a few people take some pretty nasty elbows to the head (usually splitting their face open) and some killer knees, the real issue for me is having enough stamina to maintain myself throughout the 5 rounds.
In any event, I had to cancel the fight because my visa expires on the 18th. I’m actually going to Singapore for a few days to renew my visa, shop and visit the local attractions. The flight is direct from Phuket to Singapore (2 hours) and costs $133.00 return.
Saturday, March 3, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Thai food on the beach - photo by Lee Johnson
The day started out relatively normal without a hint of what was to transpire. I did my usual things - read, studied Thai, went to the market, trained in the afternoon. I even went for a moonlight swim in the ocean. The bright moon reflecting off the ocean, the sand and air still warm and moist, the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing; it’s such a great way to relax and unwind after a hard day of relaxing.
Fraser, my friend and bad influence
Later I stopped by the Muay Thai bar. The training centre has a bar attached to it which strikes me as odd and yet quite convenient. I met up with my buddy Fraser, a Scotsman who’s been teaching English here for the past 6 months. We had a few Thai whiskeys and coke ($1.60 each) and decided that we were in the mood for some dance club action.
We hailed a tuk-tuk and went onto Patong (a town about 8 Km from my place). Even though today is a holiday and clubs and alcohol sales have to end at midnight, we figured that some of the clubs would break the law. We were right. Following Fraser’s suggestion, our first stop, after a few warm up drinks, was Seduction. What an incredible place. The space wasn’t fantastic but the music was among the best I have ever experienced. As a former DJ it takes a lot to impress me. This guy was in tune with the crowd. He knew what we wanted and how to keep us on the dance floor. He kept me up there for a few hours, with the occasional stop when my drink was empty. Alright, maybe occasional isn’t quite right – frequent is probably more accurate. All night it just seemed that when he couldn’t play anything better the next song turned it up a notch. The music scene in Thailand has such a strong global influence. And although DJs have a broader range of quality music to choose from, it still takes significant talent to chose the right songs and build the crowd to the sustained orgasmic crescendo that was tonight.
Motorcycle taxi
The bar did end up closing earlier than usual. And since we weren’t nearly ready to go home, with alcohol logic, we decided to hire a motorbike taxi to take us to some out-of-the-way clubs that would still be open. Motorbike taxis are organized specialized drivers with 100cc scooters and coloured vests. We offered our driver a little extra money to stay with us all night regardless of where we wanted to go. The rest of the night is a little foggy but there was a stop at the bar in front of my Muay Thai gym then a run to the bank machine where I almost lost my bank card. “Hey Lee, is that your bank card on the sidewalk.” I’m still not sure how it got there.
Fully loaded with cash it was off to Icon followed by Laguna which are both primarily Thai dance clubs (as opposed to clubs that are geared to tourists). Filed under ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’: at all 3 places we bought our motorbike taxi driver a drink.
In the early morning, after hours of dancing, the 3 of us crawled (well, Fraser and I crawled, the driver climbed) onto the bike and made our way home. I was such a nice ride back that at one point Fraser had a little nap on the driver’s shoulder.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Local fresh market - photo by Lee Johnson
Life is unbelievable! I am in a state of euphoria. Today was by far the best day I have ever had in Thailand (although the mountain bike trek with my parents comes as a close second). I got up at 6:45am with ease and went for a 20 minute run with the other fighters followed by a morning training session.
After training I dealt with some internet issues and a few other sundry items and then made my way to the book store to get a Thai cookbook. With book in hand, I spent a considerable amount of time at the market. My Thai is starting to get pretty good and the market is a great place to practice. I bought all sorts of strange things that are necessary for Thai cooking. Such things as lime leaves, various curies and strange fruits and vegetables. The produce might have the occasional hole in it but at least it is incredible fresh and free of pesticides. The meats and seafood are all out in the open and each stand offers one type of meat. 1 Kg of pork loin will set you back about $2.00.
Spices and curries are all homemade. For example, you can’t buy pepper in a shaker but there are various containers of freshly ground pepper that someone hand-ground in a mortar.
Following my adventure at the market I came home and made myself something to eat. The great thing about the incredible tastiness of Thai food is that it is very simple and quick to prepare. It is also very healthy.
In the afternoon it was back to the gym for another run and my afternoon training session. Things went great! I have a few different coaches that specialize in different things. My fighting coach and I get a long really well. He seems to be quite impresses with my kicking skills. This contrasts with the head trainer who is a little frustrated with me at the moment. He’s been trying for the past 3 days to correct a part of my technique. Part of Muay Thai is using the knees to hit your opponent. For some reason though I can’t quite get the movement right. The knee has to come from the outside and then almost down as you strike your opponent. My mind understands what I am supposed to do. My body can’t seem to get it right.
Saturday, February 24, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
My little place - photo by Lee Johnson
What’s that in my shoe
I am living with frogs and geckos and a variety of lizards. Actually, more frogs than I have ever seen. I do wish that they were all a little more effective though because I still have these crazy spiders. They look like a normal spider that we have back home but I doubt they are as innocuous. They jump incredible distances and are lighting fast. On a related note, today as I was putting on my running shoes, first the right then the left, I noticed something curled up inside. My first thought was a scorpion or a small snake but instead it was a cute little toad. I set him loose in the pond out from.
I love my bungalow. I spend a lot of time sitting out on my veranda reading and contemplating. I just finished The Good Earth by Perl S. Buck. What an incredible book. Although It is a relatively quick read, it is brilliant and really leaves an impact. No wonder it won a Pulitzer Prize and she won a Nobel Prize for literature. Without a doubt, her writing style is like nothing I have ever encountered before. It will certainly have a dramatic effect on my own writing.
As much as I am enjoying the slow life, I’m still not used to living in paradise. Every morning when I wake up the first thing I do is look out the window to see what the weather is doing. Maybe it’s the natural pilot instinct in me but it’s always the same every morning: hot, sunny and blue skies!
Thursday, February 22, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Getting ready for a fight - photo by Lee Johnson
A place to stay - finally
I finally found a place! I went to the gym that I had discovered the night of the fight. At 4:00 I met the manager and she confirmed that there was also accommodations (training & accommodations – 1 month: $560.00). I have a beautiful large bungalow with a patio, and a kitchen (which is important). It is about 100 meters from the training camp and about 3 minutes to the beach. 5 minutes away is a huge outdoor market where I can buy everything from daily fresh fruits & vegetables to spices, meats and seafood as well sundry household items. Down the main road in front of my bungalow is everything else I might need. I am ecstatic that I don’t have to rent a motorbike while I am here. Everything I will ever need in the next 4 months is within walking distance.
As soon as I got here, I unloaded and returned the jeep, went down to the gym and started my training. It was better than I could have imagined. The instructor to student ratio is very good with great one on one attention. Funny enough, earlier, desperate to find a place to train and live, I had stopped in at my old gym. They had no accommodations available but while I was there I notice that one of their Thai fighters was no longer training there. They told me that he malaria and was sick and would be gone for at least 2 months. Well, here I am training right along side him again at my new gym. Either way it’s great to see him and train along side of him again.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Thai boy - photo by Lee Johnson
Jeep ride to Krabi
Since I still had the jeep, M & J and I decided to drive onto the mainland and around the bay to check out Krabi. I heard it was nice and this would give me a chance to check out more training camps and hopefully some cheaper accommodations since I had heard that it was less touristy. We had a beautiful 3 hour drive surrounded by jungle and stunning rock outcrops. In fact, climbers from around the world come to Krabi to experience the world-class climbing. Krabi is very nice and has a less hurried hippie feel to it. After asking around a bit I found the only training camp (if you can call it that). It was very unimpressive and the camp’s accommodations were full. Plus it was very far from the beach.
Road pop
On our way back we stopped at 7-11 to buy some supplies. A wine cooler for M and a mickey of Thai whiskey ($3.00), some Red Bull, some Coke and plastic cups for J and I. M sat in the back seat and mixed our drinks (1/3 whiskey, 1/3 Red Bull, 1/3 Coke) while I drove. The freedom here reminds me how stifling things can sometimes be in Canada. Before I get a ‘tisk tisk’ from anyone, we had a few drinks over 3 hours while I drove back to Phuket (not something I would even consider in Canada). With a $2.50 CD playing we spent a part of the drive home singing and the other part deep in intellectual conversation.
More Canadian generosity
I spent the night once again on M & J’s spare bed. Although they’ve been so incredibly genuine and generous I feel terrible imposing myself like this. It is also very difficult to still not be settled in anywhere and having to drag all my luggage around (4 months worth of gear). I am starting to lose hope.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
My favourite spot - photo by Lee Johnson
Chance meeting of other Canadians
I rented a jeep today. I paid more than I should have ($26.00) but I was really stuck. It’s still a bit odd driving on the right side of the vehicle and the left side of the road. Every once in a while I still come around a corner and plod along in the wrong lane until I notice a car coming head on.
I went down to Karon beach. It was surprisingly crowded. Also, no waves this time of year. Walking along the crowded beach I ran into the young Canadian couple (Joey & Michelle) that I had previously met at the airport. They too are travelers not tourists. We spent the afternoon at the beach and then went together to check out another training camp. This camp was much better but the accommodations were expensive and it was very far from the ocean. We also drove around and checked out various other accommodations. The result was the same: everything was full and the few that weren’t were too expensive. I’m really starting to worry.
Waterfalls & a lighthouse
Later in the afternoon we went to the national park up island where we hiked through the jungle and up to the waterfall. Since this is not the rainy season the waterfall was far less stunning than when my parents and I went on mountain bikes. Regardless, we jumped in and went for a refreshing swim.
Later we drove down to the south part of the island and went up to the lighthouse to check out the view and pick up a few beer for the drive back (when in Rome…). We then made our way to Patong to catch a Muay Thai fight. This turned out to be a Godsend. Besides running into my old coaches, we got to see some of the best fights I have ever seen. We drank and had roti which is a very thin crepe filled with egg and banana, covered in sugar and sweet condensed milk and fried in oil and something orange that I assume is butter. Of particular importance though was that there were two very talented and strong fighters from the J. Prapa Gym in Kata, a small town adjacent to Karon. The location couldn’t be better. I am hopeful that this gym will be the one.
That night I slept in the spare bed in Joey & Michelle’s room. I am so lucky to have met these generous Canadians.
Monday, February 19, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
Monkey in a truck - photo by Lee Johnson
Getting there but no accommodations
I took a 1 ½ hour flight to Phuket. The flight cost about $60.00 but the luggage weight restriction was 15 kilos so I had to pay another $100.00 just for my luggage. I was a little upset with myself because I could have booked my ticket with Air Canada direct to Phuket and I would have saved $160.00. By the way, a ticket to Thailand with Air Canada (one of the best for international flights) can be had for $1050.00 return. Come and visit!
Last year when I was here it wasn’t tourist season so there where a lot of cheap accommodations. Today I spent the entire day driving around in taxis and on motorbike looking for places that are close to a training camp. Last time I stayed at Phuket Muay Thai training camp but it was too far from the beach and I had to have a motorbike to get anywhere. This year I wanted to be walking distance from everything, so I decided the best course of action was to visit the different camps and make an evaluation based on the quality of training, the location and accommodations. Every camp has two training sessions per day: one in the early morning which less people attend and one in that starts at 4:00pm that generally more people attend. I wanted to visit the school in the afternoon so see how many students there were in relation to instructors and to evaluate the quality of the instruction.
The day did not go well. Everywhere I went the accommodations were full and the ones that had vacancies were too expensive. I stopped in at Rawai Muay Thai at 4:00pm but I didn’t like it at all: too many students and not enough instructors. Plus, the camp was located quite a distance from everything, particularly the ocean.
The difference between a tourist and a traveler
While looking for accommodations I bumped into a very nice Belgium couple. They asked me if I was English. Assuming that they were questioning if I spoke English I answered in the affirmative. They responded with a less than enthusiastic “ah”. As I mentioned last year, most British tourist here are unbelievable bores and not very well liked at all. Worse than any other tourists I have ever seen anywhere in the world. There are some exceptions of course – like my British friends. Anyway, correctly judging their disdain and now understanding the intent of their question, I corrected myself and explained that I was Canadian. Their faces lit up instantly and they said “ah, then you are not a tourist, you are a traveler”. A nice compliment to say the least.
Finally, late in the evening and well into darkness I found a room for $23.00. Much more than I wanted to spend, it was small and was not even equipped with hot water. I am a little disheartened and tired.
Sunday, February 18, 2007 - Phuket, Thailand
747 - photo by Lee Johnson
After a tall drink of ‘a week in Mexico’, I followed with a chaser of ‘a week of snowboarding in Whistler’ then washed it all down with ‘a flight to Thailand’.
9 ½ hours Vancouver to Tokyo
6 hours Tokyo to Bangkok
Overnight in Bangkok
I arrived at the brand new Bangkok airport and took a 25km ride to my hotel (which I reserved on www.hotelclub.net for $33.00 which included a large and very good buffet breakfast). The taxi cost $9.00.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006 - Alberta, Canada
Seismic equipment - photo by Lee Johnson
For the next three months I have been contracted to fly seismic exploration. This is an area I last worked in 3 years ago. Seismic exploration is the way in which oil and gas is ‘discovered’. Seismic can either be done in 2-dimension or 3-dimension, but the basic principle is the same. Along a pre-defined straight line, dynamite is put into holes that have been drilled into the ground. Then, crews go along these lines and ‘plant’ these highly sensitive microphones called geophones into the ground. These phones are so sensitive that they can detect a rabbit walking on the ground or even the vibrations from a helicopter flying overhead. The geophones, numbering in the hundreds or sometimes thousands, are all connected together to form a type of listening zone (the spread) which is connected to a mobile control centre called the Recorder (the doghouse). The doghouse is full of computers and monitoring and recording devices. One at a time each dynamite charge is set off. The sound waves travel deep into the ground, hitting various formations such as sand, rock, oil and gas. The waves then bounce back and are captured by the geophones. By interpreting the sound waves the types of formations underground can be determined.
My role in all of this is to speed production. For the most part these lines are cut through dense bush and difficult terrain. In most areas it would be impossible or completely unfeasible to move this equipment by hand. Even in better conditions the crews on foot would have to drag all this gear over dozens of kilometres thus taking days to set up one line. Instead, the equipment is packed into a series of heli-bags. The helicopter has a 120ft. line attached to it. Attached to the end of the line is a big carousel which has eight cargo hooks on it. Each hook can be deployed individually by the pilot. Attached to each of these hooks is a heli-bag full of gear which weighs about 250 lbs. and is worth about $25 000.00. Therefore, a full rack of bags (I can typically move four racks every hour) weights about 2000lbs. and is worth about $200 000.00. My job is to lay out all these bags on the line at very precise points (within a few metres of the target) as fast I can. Crews then come along unpack the bags and layout all the gear.
Once the line is shot, that is to say that all the dynamite has been detonated and all the sound waves recorded, the crews go along pick all the equipment and re-pack the bags. Attached to these bags are lanyards with a metal ball at the end. The ball is placed on the ground on a red plastic target. At this point my carousel is removed and a special contraption called a Bag Picker is installed. I then go along and, from 120 feet up I very precisely place the Bag Picker over the target and pick the small metal ball. The amount of bags I pick and layout is recorded and at the end of the day my production, based on how many bags I move per hour, is calculated and scrutinized. Under-performing pilots will be removed from the job by the client; this is a game of speed and accuracy.
Now, besides the special equipment used to control the individual hooks release and such, I also have a special navigation system called a Kodiak that has a live data link to the Coordinator on the ground. The Coordinator’s role is to manage all crews, the helicopter missions, and all aspects of the day to day activities in the field. He and I work as a team during bag move operations. He sends missions to my Kodiak which I follow on my screen. Since most of my time is spent looking 120 feet straight down, my mission screen is actually mounted on the floor of the helicopter. Using my mission screen I will navigate to the first point where I drop my first bag. Since there is generally no visual cue on the ground, the Kodiak will guide me to the exact spot to within .2 of a meter. Although placing the bag within 5 metres is generally acceptable. Once dropped, the bag gets marked as deployed on my screen and kilometres away on the Coordinator’s computer screen. Then, the next drop point, which on this job is 120 metres apart, comes up on my screen and I navigate to it and drop another bag. I do this eight times then I go back to staging to pick up another rack of eight. This will be my toil until March.
Saturday, December 31, 2005 - Cochrane, Ontario
Backyard rink at Luc’s place - photo by Lee Johnson
It’s been a hectic few weeks. Because of some unexpected problems with my house in Red Deer which lead to some significant expenses, I had to cut my Thailand trip short (I ran out of money). I booked my return ticket and two days later I was leaving beautiful Thailand and making my way to Alberta. After two days in Alberta running errands and getting my winter gear, I was on a flight to Prince George, BC for a week of training with Vancouver Island Helicopters. Following my week of training I was again on a flight, this time to Toronto. I spent the night in Toronto then took the train to Cochrane, Ontario to spend Christmas with my some friends and relatives and primarily with my brother Luc and his three kids. It was so nice to be back in Northern Ontario where it still feels like home. After being away for so long I forgot how wonderful it is and how warm the people are.
I know we all hear the stories of those little towns where you can leave your doors unlocked and where neighbours look out for each other but I thought those days had long passed. That is until I went back to Cochrane. Helping Luc prepare dinner, I volunteered to head to the grocery store and pick up a few things. Not finding the keys hanging on the key rack, I asked for his car keys. He gave me this quizzical look and with a slight ‘tisk’, mater-of-factly said “where else would they be; they’re in the car.” Ah yes. Northern Ontario.
One evening we cleared out a section in my brother’s back yard to play some hockey. In the evenings, along with his friend Chantal and the kids, we played childish, laughter-inducing, roll-in-the-snow hockey. Another nice part of my visit was the music. Throughout my time there the house was constantly filled with music; with Luc and Chantal on guitar, me learning the piano, and the kids making their contributions. Being French Canadian, traditional music was big part of my childhood. Historically, when families got together music featured prominently with everyone playing an instrument and singing and dancing. The tradition was generally passed on to sons and daughters who usually learned by ear. My grandfather, for instance, played fiddle but regretfully, he never passed it down. I am thankful though that I still know all the old songs.
After a week at my brother’s place I headed back to Toronto for a few days and then it was time to go to work. I caught a flight to Fort St. John, BC where I got my assignment, loaded my helicopter and departed for Tumbler Ridge, BC. After a week there I now find myself in Peace River, Alberta. In a couple of days I will be back in Tumbler Ridge for a week then it’s off to Vancouver for a week off.
Saturday, December 3, 2005 - Phuket, Thailand
Somewhere in Bangkok - photo by Lee Johnson
Lawyers are good
On the advice of my lawyers I acquiesced. I love lawyers, always have. Most of my good friends are lawyers. Sometimes a cure, sometimes a curse, the ability to look at a situation and make a decision based on fact rather than emotion is exactly what I needed.
After looking at the case along with the police report and the picture of the accident scene it was obvious that I was being set up. As you recall the police had spray-painted an outline of the bikes at the accident scene. However the police report has the accident occurring 6 meters away from their own spray marks. Furthermore it’s 6 meters in the opposite direction of travel, a physical impossibility but it does coincide with the other person’s version of events. In fact all evidence in the report has been fabricated to directly correspond with other person’s version. This includes the sudden appearance of a phantom truck that forced me to go around and hit him in his lane. Of course even though the report has me hitting him in his lane, the spray marks, even after the significant collision, still has his bike in my lane. It defies all logic.
My lawyers’ advice was simple, we could go to court, sometime over the next few months, and most likely win the case. However, the much cheaper solution would be to simply make an offer, legally close the case which would bar future claims, and have everything settled immediately. I chose the latter. Other than the money, the stress of dragging this out was not worth it.
The lawyers made all the appropriate phone calls and negotiations and we settled on 6000bht, about $175.00. By the sound of things, that would cover his bike repairs, his medical bills, and his lost wages for a week and I suspect a few extra thousand baht thrown in for good measure. Morally it was difficult pill to swallow. Being honest and doing the right thing does not necessarily mean that the outcome will always be in your favour. My legal bill for two lawyers, over an hour of service and multiple phone calls was 1000bht ($28.00) and the bill for my bike repair was about 4000bht ($117.00).
Lesson learned
This incident has taught me a few lessons. Primarily, I’ve learnt how to accept a situation that is out of my control and be at peace with it. This incident could have caused me great stress but I didn’t allow that. It was the one thing I could control.
One police officer did restore my fate in people here though. When I went down to the police station to finalize the agreement and make the payment I met a very intelligent police sergeant who spoke excellent English. We chatted about all sorts of things. He looked at the pictures and realized right away that I was being set up. He talked to me quite openly about it saying that this is one thing that he hates about his co-workers and about the system. He was very blunt and direct. Going as far as saying that he loves his job but hates the politics of it and hates the people he has to work with. He made it very clear that, unlike other officers, he doesn’t care whether I am a foreigner or a local. Although he did try to intercede on my behalf, the captain wouldn’t even listen to him. He said to me that that was a big problem; because of the hierarchy officers were just suppose to kiss ass and not speak out of turn. His words, which I thought were quite eloquent, were “we have mouths to stuff food into but we can’t use them to speak.”
Back to normal
So, everything is settled and I am back into my routine. The training is going increasingly well. The toe I broke on my right foot two or three weeks ago is healing nicely. Thankfully I’m left-handed so I don’t kick nearly as much with my right leg. Although for the first week I couldn’t stand properly on the foot anyway, it didn’t stop me from training. Over the past few days that I’ve been finally able to put full power into my right kicks.
Friday, December 2, 2005 - Phuket, Thailand
Thai Royal Palace, Bangkok - photo by Lee Johnson
From bad to worse – with a silver liner
Well, today was definitely worse. Without so much as an interview or a chance to tell my story the police Captain who decides these matters said that I was to blame. This leaves me responsible for the repairs to both bikes and his hospital bills. My version was that he pulled out in front of me and I t-boned him. His version is that he was trying to make a turn and I hit him. Well actually that’s his son’s version. Although he wasn’t even at the accident scene. Without getting into the micro details of his version of the accident, it is obvious to everyone that my version of the event matches concretely with the damage to the bikes. It’s impossible for my bike to have incurred the damage it has based on his version on the events. That’s beside the point though. The police Captain said it happened a certain way and that is the end of the story.
I have contacted the Canadian Embassy and I will be following up with a recommended list of lawyers tomorrow. Actually, I was going to forgo a lawyer because it seemed obvious I wasn’t going to win this battle. This isn’t my country and the police claim, regardless of the bike damage, that evidence at the scene proves his version of the story. Since, other than a small sketch, there doesn’t seem to be any evidence, I’m not sure what he is referring to. The silver lining is this: I went back to the accident scene to take pictures and measurements since the police did neither. Thankfully, the police had painted that outline of the bikes. It is obvious that his version is impossible. I hit him 6 meters forward of the intersection. Had he been turning I would have hit him at the intersection. As it stands now his version has him turning into some trees and bush. However, the scene proves without a doubt, my version of the events. As it happens the son was there when I went back to take photos. I showed him how it was impossible for his version of the event to be true. I asked him in Thai, after I explained everything, if he understood what I meant. He looked at me and he knew he had been caught, or he knew his dad was lying. He said we would deal with it together tomorrow. I hope that means he will be honest about the event although I am not holding my breath.
This really changes nothing however since the ruling has been make and to beat this I would have to point out that the Captain is wrong. This is not something I want to do. Nor is he inclined to change his mind. This is a family whose main breadwinner is in the hospital with medical fees pilling up and their only mode of transportation useless. I am a ‘rich’ foreigner who could easily afford to pay for everything. So, although it might cost me more for a lawyer than to pay for his medical bills it seems to be the only course of action. I don’t want to cause any problems and offend the Captain by indirectly calling him a liar but this is getting out of hand. I am telling the truth. I may have been willing to help a little bit had they come to me and asked for some help and told the truth. I am no longer in the mood to be helpful.
This is certainly far from over. A lawyer can’t change the police report he can only bring it to the courts and have a judge rule on it. This still doesn’t look very good but I am hoping that my encounter with the son will bring them to their senses. And I have one final problem; the police still have my passport. When I call the Embassy I will also deal with this matter.
Thursday, December 1, 2005 - Phuket, Thailand
Photo by Lee Johnson
Well, it happened. Much sooner than I was expecting. I was involved in a relatively serious motorcycle accident tonight. Although relatively unscathed, I am experiencing some significant chest pain and my knee is quite sore.
Picture this
I am traveling along the highway to meet up with my parents who are visiting and another motorbike pulls out right in front of me. It seems so cliché to say that things seem to happen in slow motion, but as the accident replays in my mind that is the only way I can describe it. A rotund Thai man wearing no helmet and nothing but a t-shirt, boxer shorts and flip flops pulls out from a side road directly across my lane and in front of me. The instant I see him I honk my horn. When he sees me he freezes. I apply the brakes and try to pass in front of him just as he moves forward vainly hoping to avoid me. I know at that moment that I am going to hit him. Resignation; what a strange feeling. No fear, just resignation. With resignation comes a strange feeling of calm; I knew I was going to be fine. Yet I could not possibly understanding the full implications of what was about to happen. I hit him broadside. T-bone style. My chest hits the handle bars with incredible force as my bike slams into his. I get up from the pavement gasping for a breath, clutching my chest, limping slightly as I make my way to the side of the road. Surreal doesn’t even begin to describe it. I know from my years of training that I am in shock. Instantly I analyze myself; signs and symptoms. I take a mental inventory of my faculties and my injuries.
People come running. I ask in my improving Thai whether anyone saw the accident. No one did but they all heard the noise. It was incredibly loud they say. I remember it now; an extremely loud explosive bang followed instantly by a sharp, piercing metallic crunch. The sound was all around me as I hit him. It was in the air and against my skin.
I look over to the inert body lying in the middle of the road. He’s not moving. He’s not conscience. The thought never enters my mind that he could be dead. People rush over to try to bring him around but he doesn’t respond. Nothing. Not even a blink or muscle twitch. One man slaps him lightly on the face like they do in the movies. I know that I should go over and help. I know what to do. For a few years I taught people how to respond. I know how to assess a victim. I also know from my training how to recognize shock and how to treat it. I am in no mental condition to administer medical care.
As I look at the man in the road I notice two things; I don’t see any blood and he has an erection. He’s lying there flat on his back, arms to his side, a pair of boxers and an erection pointing straight up. It would be comical if it wasn’t so tragic. If I remember correctly, an erection on a victim can be a sign of spinal injury.
Eventually, he does become conscience; I think. This really has no effect on my state of mind. Should I be relieved? Should I somehow feel slightly absolved? I feel nothing. At some point the police and ambulance are there. I believe in that order. Like the chalk outline of a corps, the cop spray paints a white outline of our bikes as they lay in the center of the road, turn signals still blinking. He pulls the bikes to the side of the road. Now there are only two errant flip-flops lying in the road. No one gathers them and within minutes as traffic resumes car after car drives over them. The white outline of our bikes on the charcoal asphalt glistens beneath the headlights of each passing car.
The full extent of the situation in which I now find myself is becoming clear. I have severely damaged a rental motorcycle for which there is no insurance and for which I probably don’t have the money to repair. More importantly, though completely blameless, I am a foreigner in a country that doesn’t necessarily follow the tenets of jurisprudence. My words and version of events will not carry as much weight as that of a Thai person. I hope the officer that I deal with is honest. I hope that the other driver was drunk and that this comes to light at the hospital. I hope that the man I hit is not paralyzed or brain-damaged. I hope this not out of altruism but out of sheer self preservation; I am scared that I will be charge with a serious offense if the victim takes a turn for the worse. My God! What happens if I have to pay his hospital bills? Those thoughts with dozens more linger in mind as I hope that they believe me and my version of events.
As I sit at a table near the side of the road I have an incredible need to call someone, anyone. I have my cell but am not sure who to call. I need to call someone. I need to call my parents to tell them I will be late. I don’t want to alarm them and tell them I was in an accident but I have to tell someone. I call them but they have stepped out. I leave a message. I really need to call Chun the manager where I am training and living. That’s who I need call. He’ll know what to do. Unfortunately, although I always carry his business card with me I don’t have it this time. I can’t call him.
Eventually a senior officer arrives on the scene. He asks me a few questions, makes a few notes and sketches. He takes my passport. I ask him in Thai if I need to go with him right now. He tells me that I must present myself at the police station tomorrow at 2:00pm. I wonder if I will be arrested tomorrow. I wonder if I will be charged and then release to face a court date. I hope he doesn’t keep my passport so that I can leave the country if this whole matter becomes dreadful. After all, he only asked for my id but I had to leave it with the bike rental shop so I was forced to give up my passport instead.
Curiously, he tells me I can’t drive my bike. At first I assumed he meant I wasn’t allowed to drive a bike at all. No, he meant I can’t drive my bike. No shit Sherlock! The whole front end is destroyed. When they start to load the bikes onto the truck I understand what he was saying. He was trying to tell me that he was taking the bikes to the police compound.
The younger officer, who was first on the scene, asks me where I was going. I tell him to Karon to meet my parents. He offers to give me a ride (on the back of his motorcycle) which I accept. We chat along the way. He says how lucky I am that no cars hit me. Normally there would have been cars all around me and I should have been hit. We talk about my Muay Thai training and we both surmise that the reason that I am relatively uninjured is because of the training. That and I was wearing a helmet.
The adventures I’ve been living are part of a very simply journey really. Journeys begin and they end. With each wave the most incredible people ebb into and out of my life. Like the mangrove, with each tide I continue to enrich my soul, grow and learn.
The thing about journeys is that we all want to know the destination before we leave. Like a passenger in a car, It’s difficult and frustrating, to head in a direction without being in control and knowing where we’re headed.
To be able to let all that go; anger, frustration, control, jealousy, emotional attachement to things and yes, people. To let everything go and give up the need to control is to be truly selfless. Now that, is ultimate freedom!
