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[cbean69]

can you make another post please I’m a big fan??

Wow of course!! I’m so honored!

[cbean69]

Krabi

Krabi is a coastal town. It was either built for tourists or has been so consumed by the tourist economy that only on the outskirts of the town are you reminded that you are not, in fact, in a resort. It is located in the South of Thailand, along the western part of the archipelago which borders the Andaman Sea. The water is vibrantly blue and the pace is refreshingly slow. The downtown of Au Nang, where we stayed, goes like this: Thai restaurant, souvenir shop, weed shop, bar, Indian restaurant, souvenir shop, weed shop, bar, weed shop, etc. etc. etc. While the town is great, the true beauty of Krabi lies in its innumerable excursions.

The first day, we took a longtail boat to Phra Nang Beach. Because we had anticipated this slow beach day for so long, we took an exceptionally long time searching for the perfect lounging spot - some shade, some sun, not crowded, great views. I’m grateful for our pickiness, because we found just that spot. We then enjoyed hours of swimming, lounging, and perhaps the most indulgent j of my life. We swam out to a floating bamboo raft flanked by two stunning limestone karst formations and sparked a heavenly joint while the waves lazily sloshed our boat. I erupted in laughter at the absurdity of it. I didn’t have to explain myself - Josh and cam laughed along.

The second day, we took a private boat to three islands, chicken island, Koh Poda, and Koh Mor, for 2,000 Baht, about $20 per person. We got to snorkel at chicken island.

Snorkeling is, perhaps, my favorite thing in the world to do. That and basketball. (Sex also). I actually had a somewhat lengthy debate in my head debating which is better. I couldn’t decide and it didn’t much matter.

From the surface, little blue-grey fish dart between growths of blue-grey coral. As you dive, though, the colors clarify and saturate. Schools of yellow fish with white stripes. Large, nervous neon fish with rainbow bellies, purple coral that retreat when the current beats on them. It was brilliant. I would ascend for only as long as it took to catch my breath and holler at josh and cam to come investigate the mysterious life form that I had discovered.

(I felt like I was in that diving video game that we played in Colin’s room. I giggled to myself thinking about that night and how you might laugh about it too, but knowing no one would understand the reference if I brought it up, I kept it to myself).

After an hour of snorkeling, we headed to two more islands. Interesting, but not nearly as exciting as our first snorkeling experience. When we returned, we were saturated with salt. Our mouths, swim trunks, faces, toes, eyelashes, everything. Never have I craved a beer more.

We landed on an Indian restaurant with a balcony, mainly because the gentleman hosting had a warm smile and seemed grateful for our business. With ceremonious timing, the sky began to dump. The rain battered the tin roof with such force we had to shout across the table just to communicate in the otherwise empty restaurant. We gleefully accepted our fate of drinking light beers in a tropical thunderstorm until we could walk home.

Krabi is a piña colada. Unapologetically sweet. Exquisitely refreshing. Just what we needed after experiencing the overwhelming heat and pornography of Bangkok. I drank it up and wanted another. But, like piña coladas, we left before I could grow tired of the sweet syrup. I’ll crave this piña colada often - during long weeks and winter months. Someday, I’d like to share one with you.

[cbean69]

Bangkok

I was perpetually sticky and stinky in Bangkok. I’m stinky as I write this now. Bangkok was sweltering - 103 degrees and humid each day. It is the also the city in which two of us were forced to pay the credit for the contract we signed - relentless diarrhea as payment for the weeks of street food and cheap beers we had been consuming. Unpleasant, sure, but I’d take that deal again.

We took Zofran, Imodium, and pepto bismol and soldiered on - dedicated to make good on our promise - we were going to hit the town hard for our one night in the Bug Mango, Bangkok, Thailand. Our last night as a full crew.

After a pregame of Chang beers, Cosmic, and music videos in our one-room hotel, we put on our “going out” clothes and headed for the most famous Red Light District in Asia, which just happened to be blocks away from us. Once we showed our IDs, we were ushered into a plaza which was surrounded by three stories of strip clubs and brothels with a bar in the center. Overstimulated and self-conscious just by the very act of being there, we quickly found the most secluded table to nervously drink another round of Changs.

Around us, men ranging from their 20s to their 70s (mostly white, some Asian) “flirted” with the scantily dressed Thai women who vied for their attention and wore uniforms based on the club for which they worked.

Every once in a while, a man would take the hand of the woman they had chosen and disappear into the smoke and noise of a club, presumably to pay for sex.

I felt intrigue, concern, excitement, disgust. Much to our chagrin, we weren’t approached at our table for companionship. Perhaps we weren’t the prototypical high paying customer. Perhaps they could see the terror and relative innocence in our eyes. I’m okay with either explanation.

I tried my best to maintain a certain level of ignorance so as not to ruin the night. Just tonight, I’ll try not to think about the implications of what I was seeing - young women, some with braces, massaging old men and enticing them to join them inside for sex. Men touching and grabbing women with complete authority, complete sense of ownership. I just wanted to experience the energy of the city and people watch, not confront the ethics of the situation I was participating in. But then I couldn’t anymore.

We decided to take a lap around the plaza before leaving. As we walked past storefronts, politely denying the women enticing us to enter their club, I glanced in and saw what was happening inside.

Innumerable naked women stood on stages. The only thing they wore was a number. They were cattle at an auction, waiting for someone to claim them. So frivolously could a man chose them for sex. I knew prostitution was transactional, but I wasn’t prepared for this level of dehumanization.

47 bent down to talk to an interested customer. 93 smoked a cigarette outside. 24 and 35 pretended to enjoy talking with an old man, laughing at his crass jokes.

After our lap, we left the Plaza and headed to a rooftop bar. We debriefed (incompletely, some still had a stunned look in their eyes) and enjoyed a cocktail. Determined to leave the city with a full night under our belt, we decided to check out a club on our way home. We stumbled upon one on in our neighborhood. The music thumped and an old man was being denied at the door. Good signs.

We promised to overpay for beers and walked in to find a stage full of naked Thai women. Most didn’t dance, they just stood there while men stared at them. At least they weren’t wearing numbers.

We were ushered to our front row seats. After half a Chang beer and a few comically cordial conversations with a woman on stage (she asked us about temples that we had visited and shook our hands), we determined that we had experienced enough of Bangkok.

The next day, we slept in. We stepped out into the sweltering heat one last time to explore more markets and temples. Then we departed - Dylan to Rome, Cam, Josh, and I to Krabi. Hopefully, innocent beach time awaits us.

[cbean69]

Chiang Mai

We started our journey in Chiang Mai mesmerized. Mr. O drove us from the airport to our Air BnB. His warm smile and generous laughter allowed us to at last relinquish our guilt of being the ignorant Americans in a country our government had waged war on just a few decades ago. Unlike Vietnam, the United States and Thai relationship has been largely collegial (despite Thailand siding with Japan during WWII in the face of imminent destruction by the world power). Not only did Mr. O make us feel welcome, he knew of an ethical elephant sanctuary that we must try. We’re in! We will contact him tomorrow.

Walking around our first temple, Josh serendipitously met the architect of one of the newer pagodas. What are the odds! We rushed over to meet the man who humbly chose not to talk much about the architecture; he was much more interested in telling us about a different, more ethical elephant sanctuary that we have to experience. What are the odds! How lucky are we! He even sent us on a tuk tuk to the office where we could schedule.

As we wandered the streets, a friendly man approached us wanting to talk. He had just been engaged and was in Chiang Mai to get suits for his wedding. He was friends with the most acclaimed suit tailor in the city (this guy had made suits for the KING himself). I wasn’t in the market for a suit when I came to Thailand, but shoot, how could I pass up an opportunity like that!

As we discussed how graciously this humid, quaint, friendly city had embraced us over a bowl of khao soi, Josh read reviews of the sanctuaries we had been recommended. Then it happened. We read the fatal review.

⭐️ “We were approached by a man claiming to be the architect of the temples. He ushered us into a tuk tuk and to a travel agency where we booked our trip. Not only was it expensive, but it was certainly not ethical. The elephants were sad and at times whipped in front of us. This was not a nature reserve. We were scammed.”

The glass shattered. The instagram filter which we were seeing through suddenly disappeared. The magical city became real again. Our feet finally touched the ground.

Then we laughed. We laughed in disbelief our naïveté. We laughed long and hard, blaming each other and looking back on our texts about “the architect.” But what was real? Was Mr. O genuinely kind? He did have an amazing laugh and seemed to truly love elephants. Had Cookie from the weed store scammed us? (Definitively no - that stuff was potent). How about the volunteer at the temple? She seemed kind. But wait, she had also mentioned an elephant tour. Shit.

The one thing that didn’t abandon us - the solid ground on which I was able to stand - was the bowl of khao soi in front of me. Meat that fell off the bone and soaked up the beautiful sweet, spicy, rich curry in which it swam. Noodles cooked to perfection. Peppers that made you sweat more than the 106 degree heat. It was outstanding. And a little over a dollar. The khao soi had not deceived us.

We have proceeded to eat our way through the city. Consuming street food and spiritual experiences at every opportunity. Spring rolls, stir fry, dumplings, meat sticks, pad see yew, lechee juices, and many many mangos over sticky rice; we have also participated in meditation sessions, self directed yoga, and monk talks.

In the latter, we met a young monk originally from Myanmar. He had come to Thailand to study in Chiang Mai. He spoke cryptically of Burma and we didn’t wish to offend with many follow up questions. He was optimistic that someday he would return to be with his family there, but did not know when.

In our talk with him, we discussed the mundane - like his daily life and what he was reading. We also discussed profound topics like the tenants of Buddhism (which he could recite with textbook accuracy), his study of other religions, his goals as a monk (his response to this inquiry was honest and comically terse - “to meditate”), and his personal beliefs (there is no monotheistic god).

I was very attracted to the tenants of Buddhism. It appreciates the inevitability of change which naturally supposes that life will be filled with pain. It rejects reliance on anyone or anything - clothing, loved ones, the Buddha, even oneself.

He eventually asked us about ourselves. We responded that yes, we were students. He then told us, “you are doctors.” Yes, yes we are. “Medical doctors.” Correct again. Did all of his meditative practices allow him prophetic wisdom, or was it just a lucky guess informed by our age and inquisitive nature? Earlier in the trip, I would have leaned towards prophetic wisdom, but I lost a piece of my innocence when I met “the architect.”

That night, we decided against motor bikes in favor of hiking up to two temples - one only reachable by foot, the other a popular and massive temple at the top of the mountain. At the first temple, we allowed ourselves the time to meditate in front of numerous stunning buddhas while surrounded by the buzzing of unfamiliar bugs and the croaking of frogs.

Eventually, we had to continue our hike. We had enormously underestimated the challenge. We ascended 2,000 feet in just two miles through the thick forest floor guided only by our phone lights and the sounds of the bustling town above. Our reward was a spectacular temple with ringing wind chimes and monks guiding the youth in meditations.

In many ways, the mango with sticky rice is an appropriate metaphor for our time in Chiang Mai. The mango is real. It is tender. It is juicy. It is Thai. But it is also covered in a cloyingly sweet condensed milk concoction that gives you a stomach ache just minutes after you’ve demolished the plate.

Chiang Mai is similarly stunning. It is truly friendly. It is filled with genuine spiritual experiences and those who wish to share them with you. It is also filled with “architects” and friends of the king’s tailor.

At the end of the day, I still fucking love mango with sticky rice.

———————————————————————

At each stage of this trip, I’ve thought about what you might enjoy about it. You are curious and kind and the perfect travel partner. You would love the food and laugh at how I stick out in obnoxiously American ways. You would be grateful and soak in the cultural differences. I would love to come back here with you. I would travel anywhere with you. Even Itcaha in March.

[cbean69]

Cat Ba and Ha Long Bay

Cat Ba is a fishing town. Once poor, it now enjoys a robust tourism economy. It is difficult to tell if this change is truly welcome by all, or just by those most directly benefiting from the boon. As tourists, we only hear the positive side of the story. I hope this to be the truth, but can’t help but wonder what the fisherman think of us taking photos and videos as we cruise past on our boat tour of their stunning home.

Ha Long Bay means “descending dragon,” a reference to a legend of a fierce dragon that protects Vietnam against aggressors (historically, China; more recently, the United States). The Bay is an endless maze of jutting limestone karst formations that seem to defy physics. Each fertile area of the formation is maximally covered by trees, bushes, and other greenery. As the boat slowly cruises through the Bay, closer karst formations move out of view to reveal yet another magnificent collection of structures. Each perspective is new and jaw-dropping, filling you with a constant state of wonder.

The water is intensely salty and a refreshing respite from the humid air. We met many interesting foreigners on our boat tour. A couple from Amsterdam (extremely kind), a group of 4 from Southern France (found us to be funny Americans), a cool couple from Vienna (interesting tattoos), and a solo traveling German (kind eyes). Jack, our tour guide, was helpful, friendly, and modestly funny but had us cracking up by how hard he would laugh at his own jokes.

We returned back to town to enjoy beers and play games of Cosmic overlooking the Bay. Dylan won his first game which was the best case scenario because now that he’s tasted victory he won’t gripe whenever we want to play. For our final activity in Cat Ba, we rented these children’s drifting scooters to drunkenly tear around the plaza. Pure joy.

[cbean69]

Hanoi

Hanoi is green, busy, and filled with many more tourists than Ho Chi Min City. It is also proudly communist. I have to admit that the my knowledge of Vietnam is shallow - only as expansive as a few war documentaries and highly biased US high school history lessons can take me. As much as I don’t want to be an ignorant American tourist, I am one.

When I learned today that the leadership of Vietnam is an authoritarian dictatorship (after fact checking Dylan who fervently believed it to be a “democratic communism,” which I don’t think exists), I moved with even greater caution. When we walked around the mausoleum for the great Ho Chi Min, I made no eye contact with the numerous military members on guard nor did I even think to chew gum, walk on the grass, or enter anywhere that didn’t explicit say to.

Last night, when we were drinking Bia Hoi (a delicious 3% beer that is enjoyed in pitchers for less than a dollar), these German men next to us were openly smoking weed. I was surprised then, but with what I now know, I am quite stunned. We may be ignorant tourists, but at least we aren’t the most ignorant tourists.

After many Bia Hoi and some delicious Pho, we hit the town. We started at a club which is apparently ranked 41st in the world. The DJ was great, but I’d guess that there are 42 clubs in Berlin which could contest with this one. Nonetheless, we made the most of it, each enjoying a single beer that approached American prices. Josh dropped his Heineken which shattered to the floor but was cleaned up so quickly that I’m convinced they had a crew and protocol dedicated for just this occurrence.

We then linked with some travelers that we had met while sitting out and enjoying our light beers and peanuts. In a group of around 30 hostel-goers, we were the only Americans. Probably because America is far as fuck away. These French guys were obnoxious and trying to prove how smart they were to us, which was entertaining at first but annoying eventually. There was a group of Germans who didn’t believe we were finishing medical school. None of us tried to convince them, which I think was the most convincing thing we could have done.

I didn’t realize how drunk Josh was until he asked if we could smoke a cigarette. He denies this now and has little recollection of that part of the night, but he did. I of course obliged and bought a pack. We sat outside and smoked (we coughed and didn’t much enjoy it). This is when we met Phuong. Phuong is a 21 year old engineering student from Hanoi. He motor biked up to us and sat down to talk. He doesn’t smoke but took one to be polite (I couldn’t have cared less if he didn’t smoke, but didn’t know this at the time I offered). We had about a 30 minute conversation using Google translate and his decent English. He had the friendliest smile and laughed at almost everything I said. We added each other on Facebook and he asked to take photos with both of us. I airdropped them to him and we concluded our night (Josh falling asleep in the kitchen and me in my bed). I’m glad we got those cigarettes because now I know Phuong.

[cbean69]

Ho Chi Min City

The hustle and bustle of this city is unreal. It makes NYC feel like sleepy Baltimore. There is a constant stream of motorbikes, mopeds, and cars on every major road at every time of day. Couples, families, men in suits going to work, and an occasional terrified tourist. Each person with their own important, unique life, zipping by at 30mph in an unrelenting stream of humanity.

We ate street food with every opportunity we had. Banh mi, wet noodles, dry noodles, beef with rice, and many heavenly Viatnamese coffees. Most meals were washed down with a cheap Tiger beer (my insides are hollering).

I’m so grateful to have experienced the pace of this massive city, but I’m not sure I would have extended it for any period of time. The only respite we had was in our air conditioned hostel, where even there the music from the restaurant below reverberated through the white-tiled room.

Onwards to Hanoi, the equally large but slowed down sister city in the North.

[cbean69]

Saigon we have landed!!! After a restful 5hrs of sleep, the squad is up and ready to venture. I want Vietnamese coffee!! And I want it now!!

Here’s my OOTD (dorky but tactical)

[cbean69]

We’re about 4 hours into our first leg of the journey. Josh is snoozing next to me. His shoulder is pressing on my arm. Normally this might bother me, but it’s Josh, and I love him. So far I have made a card for Cam (his bday is tmro), read the first chapter of a book that he recommended, eaten, and slept.

Josh and I agreed that having an edible for this flight would have been ideal. Perhaps we should have.

Going without 🍃 for next next 2 months or so will be more of a challenge then I like to admit. I will have plenty of time and so many reasons to relax and indulge, but I can’t jeopardize starting out residency with a failed drug test. That would stick with me for all 7 years.

Once residency starts, I will only have the ability to indulge on rare occasions. I must resist the trap of indulging at any occasion. Southeast Asia will be a great opportunity for me to go treeless and have a blast. I have to remind myself sometimes how rewarding that can be.

….But man, a joint on the beach in Krabi, Thailand would be preeeeeeeetty nice.

[cbean69]

Beautiful Easter Day spent with your family. Chip told me about how his Australia trip was cancelled because they couldn’t accommodate his wheelchair. He laughed about it. What incredible spirit.

Tomorrow we fly for 20 hours - 14 from Newark to Tokyo then another 6 to Ho Chi Min City. I think I’ll read, watch movies, sketch, and sleep when I feel tired. I wish I had an edible. Oh well.

Whenever I’m leaving for trips, I have a brief period right before where I feel apathetic about it, even resistant to travel. I remember the comfort and routine of my home and yearn for it before I’ve even left it. But that’s part of why I need to travel now. To break up my routine. Get uncomfortable. To learn.

[cbean69]

I leave Monday for Vietnam.

Reflections on my pride.

I was reading an email chain between my dad and Dr. C, a Seattle neurosurgery mentor of mine. He congratulated me on matching at Jefferson, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have been more excited if I matched at a more “prestigious” institution. He rowed crew in the Ivy League and trained at the top neurosurgical program - status mattered to him. Dr. C loved telling people touring the research lab that I went to Columbia. He wanted me to go to Harvard for medical school, evening writing to that end in my letter of recommendation for medical school.

But then I paused. Why would I give a fuck what he thinks. I mean, he’s a great guy, but I want to reach for greater heights. I don’t want to be reliant of the acceptance and adoration of others. I just wanna be a really great doctor and man.

That’s enough introspection, Keenan.

[cbean69]

You helped me pick out my clothes. I wanna keep it light weight - I sweat a lot.

You like my zip off pants. Slightly dorky but they fit my ass right. Highly tactical. I’m all about being tactical.