Chapter 2 - Pla is not Fish

Chapter 2 - Pla is not Fish

"You're going to drive your motorcycle?" Daniel's question was mixed with surprise and trepidation.

"Yeah, no problem," I jovially responded. "I feel good. The doctor said everything is fine." Though I doubted my surgeon had in mind that I would get on my motorcycle less than 24 hours post-surgery. I've been in enough crashes to know that I can handle the ride back home.

"To be honest with you, mate," I continued, "I'm hoping I can catch a flight tomorrow."

"Fly?" I could only imagine what Daniel was thinking about his eccentric friend. Yet, the sense of surprise was evident in this single-word question.

"Yeah, mate." Going against normal behavior is not necessarily something I set out to do, yet I seem to constantly be doing it. "I have tickets to go to Ubon Ratchatani. To meet this lady I have been talking with for the last two weeks."

Daniel and I have known each other for just a little over 8 months. At the core of our budding friendship is mutual appreciation for NFT and the impact it can have on creating engagement and social impact, along with a love of surfing, which we discovered only later.

Ten months earlier, I stumbled upon an Instagram post regarding unchaining elephants in Thailand. The concept alone was enough to stop my scrolling and read through the project. 'Unchained Elephants' was utilizing NFT, Non-Fungible Token, a crypto-style use of art, to build a community and raise money to help save elephants from living with chains in small areas throughout Thailand.

Unlike most art projects, where the NFT is to showcase the artist or build a social club, Unchained Elephants had a much deeper cause and utilized the feature of social connection through a feasible item, a unique NFT art. Acting like a loyalty card, I saw that this project had a similar approach to an NFT project I had completed just a couple of months before. NFT Yoginis is an NFT collection to empower yoga practitioners and teachers with access to retreats, events, and more.

Released just in time for the 1st Khanom Beach Yoga Festival, the intention was to provide value and entertainment with an image of Kali.

I followed Unchained Elephants on Twitter and Instagram, and when they released their World Cup NFT collection, I managed to get a hold of Daniel so I could secure my own NFT and be part of the community.

Daniel and his staff were so welcoming, helping me navigate through their XRP purchase platform, as well as the logistics of getting the NFT into my personal digital wallet. The back-and-forth emails established the first line toward a friendship, as Daniel used some of his own XRP to help deal with the gas costs involved in each transaction.

When my son and I visited Phuket on my return from my Yoga World Tour in December, I made a point to visit Daniel in his office and meet his team. Working from an apartment turned into an office and surf shop, I realized Daniel's passion was rooted in action. Inspired, we had multiple instances where we passed each other at the surf line, and a respectful friendship ensued from there.

We stayed in touch as I returned to my home and yoga center on the East Coast of Thailand, with my efforts to engage some of the high-end resorts with the Unchained Elephants project. The resort could offer a voucher for 2 nights' stay, to be raffled among NFT holders.

When I returned to Phuket in late May, Daniel's children were a little sick, and slowly that affected each family member, so we did not have a chance to surf or hang out again, but I constantly maintained a connection to the growing project.

While our friendship spanned across business, the intention of surfing together and constantly checking on family member health felt naturally real. Thus, when he asked if I needed help getting back to my rental space from the hospital, it was both an honor and gratitude. 

Shockingly more real than a friendship I thought I had with a 73-year-old surfer from Hawaii. John Doe (to give him a veiled name) showed up in Khanom a year prior, seeking surf in the low season of Phuket, as well as the company of fresh young women, having explored the array of women on the beach known as Patong for over a year. 

John was friendly, and a good surfer, who, like myself, had a passion to be in the water as much as possible if there were surf.

At the time I was living with a lady that I believed was my partner for the near future. We had been together for almost 3 years, and the restaurant where I met John for the first time was built for her. A business she could have, with a villa that could be utilized for yoga retreats.

The cost to remodel the restaurant and villa ended up being far higher than I expected, but the intention of making Khanom our home felt like a solid decision for a future in Thailand. That she ran off to Ko Samui 3 weeks after I started my first world yoga tour since Covid started 3 years prior, and then hooked up with a monkey-looking foreigner from Denmark was a kick to the emotional balls, which I was still recovering from when I returned to Thailand in December.

Had she been honest, the shock would have been much less. Painful, but people change their minds, and I am the first to admit that love is flaky and can easily shift. That I learned of her new boyfriend from a random message he sent - "this is her new boyfriend" - while sitting at a café in Dubai, with a profile image of a bald orangutan with a dirty beard was a mixture of disgust and hurt.

The heart is meant to deal with hurt, and fortunately, I was with two good friends that helped put that cheating moment in place, John's words "all Thai women are liars and only look for someone who will pay their way" allowed me to accept the situation and put my attention on how to save the business that all my cash was invested into.

John and I were what you might call 'bros,' sharing text messages in our travels. Mine through the Middle East and Europe. His through the small islands of Indonesia. So when I arrived in Phuket with my 14-year-old son, it was a thrill that John wanted to share his boards and time with us.

For 10 days in early December, when surf is usually nonexistent in Phuket, John picked Leeor and me up from our resort in the north part of the Island and drove around seeking surf. He was a great mentor for Leeor, helping him understand paddling and reading the waves in ways that were more acceptable than words from his father.

For 10 days, we surfed 3-4 hours a day, and I literally caught some of the best waves I had in over a century, having been traveling and teaching all over the world, with rare moments to spend solid time on a surf beach.

For 10 days, we laughed, shared meals, and opened up about lifestyle, pain caused by women, and how, at 73, John lives in Thailand to surf and enjoy the low cost of non-commitment sex with Thai women.

While that is not how I seek female relations, I had no judgment and found his honesty to be refreshing. While I admit that getting images of the girls he pays to hook up with were enticing, I was with my son, and while I am a romantic at heart and believe that a man pays for dates, I could see the appeal of taking the same money one would spend on a meal and flirting with the hope of a sexual evening, and simply being direct and paying for sex, avoiding the whole game of flirtation and anticipation (which may or may not end up in sexual activity).

As my good friend Josh knows, and experiences for himself, those of us with a romantic heart, we tend to 'fall in love' with the one we have sex with. Thus, switching partners daily and paying for sex only erodes our inner sense of romance. It was interesting to be with someone who's facing the end of life, has been married and has kids and no longer has the romance bug. Or at least to recognize that romance is fleeting, and much like the girl I lived with for 3 years, can easily wreak havoc on your heart and pocket book.

After 10 blissful days of surf, Leeor had to go back to his home in Singapore, and it was time for me to return to my chosen hometown in Khanom, where the 2nd Khanom Beach Yoga Festival was being held in January, and my villa would have a family renting it for 2 months, so I needed to get back and ensure all was smooth.

John and I stayed in touch during the 6 months I was in Khanom, and I was surprised he never made the trip during the surf season we had. In fact, I surfed chest-high waves the day I arrived back, and had a surfing session every month till I returned to Phuket in late May.

The only reason to go back to Phuket for 40 days was to have a month of surf with Leeor, who decided at the last minute to stay in Singapore and take advantage of training days in his favorite sport – field hockey.

One of my longtime students came out in early May for her second Yoga Retreat with me, and I decided I would take her to Phuket for the last 3 days of her trip as she had never been there. It felt like a perfect alignment of universal energies, despite my villa and yoga studio barely making any income.

Trusting a larger force, I packed all my personal items, put my condo for sale, put the villa and restaurant for sale, and headed to Phuket, with the distant thought that perhaps Phuket is supposed to be home base.

Two years prior, I made a conscious choice to open the Yoga studio in Khanom, along with my friend who owns a high-end resort where I have been leading yoga retreats for the past 8 years before Covid. One of Thailand's secret beach areas, with gems unseen anywhere else in the world, from pink dolphins to ancient temple caves. For 2 years, I mapped out all 6 waterfalls in the area, leading weekly Sunday waterfall hikes. For 2 years, I filled Khanom Yoga social media with videos, images, and stories about the region, yoga styles, and the fact that it was built to support any yoga teacher coming to lead their event in the most cost-effective manner. From high-end lodging at unbeatable prices to 3 settings for yoga sessions – a closed mirror room for hot yoga style, an upper open-air deck, or poolside beachfront setting. I have led retreats and helped build retreats all over the world, and this was a dream come true to build something so versatile, cost-effective, naturally enriching, and above all, devoid of high-traffic tourism.

One day, Khanom Yoga retreat and training center will take off. By the time I set out on my motorbike to drive the 5 hours to Phuket, I accepted that it is going to take longer than I had initially imagined.

The drive was smooth, and the weather agreeable all the way until I crossed the bridge that connects Phuket to the mainland. As I crossed the bridge, the skies opened their faucet. Proceeding with caution, or so I thought, I was shocked to find myself sliding across the road when I took the turn after the checkpoint.

Collecting my things from the road, my body had a tiny scratch on my left big toe. What luck! The motorbike, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Both mirrors were badly twisted and had to be removed. The kickstand, which is vital in starting the motorbike, was dangling loosely, preventing it from accessing the ignition, and I had to improvise by using the spring to hold it in place. After 15 minutes of motorbike surgery, I was back on the road, feeling immensely grateful that I was okay.

My student and my friend had taken a taxi to the rental house, and by the time I arrived, they were shocked at my ordeal. "I am super lucky and blessed," I informed them. "Just a small scrape on my big toe."

So when John showed up 30 minutes later with 2 boards strapped on top of his car, my student and I hopped in his car, headed to a surf spot around the center of the island. My friend was not feeling too well, and she had her own motorbike, brought over by my Thai family that I had known for 8 years. She would meet us later.

We arrived at the surf spot, and my deep excitement at seeing the surf break was tempered when my left big toe tasted the water for the first time. The sharp sting sent a message to the brain 'don't surf!' John was already walking into the white wash that was kissing the beach, encouraging me "come on!"

I bit my lip and continued through the white wash and made it to the line-out. A crest of a wave caught my eye, and I positioned myself to paddle into it. Feeling the wave take over, I hoped and was caught off guard at the sharp pain my left toe sent to my brain as it scraped the wax on the board. Needless to say, I did not catch that wave. My crash may have given me a tiny scrape, yet the location of the scrape proved to be very challenging for catching waves. I failed to stand up and ride 3 more waves due to pain sent from the toe, and when I did catch a ride, I simply rode the wave all the way back to shore and sat with my student looking at the full line-out.

John surfed well and came out of the water about an hour later, with a desire to show my student the other surf beaches, selfishly also to see if the break was better in a different area.

My surfing for the day was done. I had driven a motorbike for 5 hours, crashed, paddled out, and caught a wave. I was feeling proud of my accomplishment, along with the calm attitude I had about the whole situation. Easily laughing about my struggles in the water, accepting the slide, and formulating a plan on getting my motorbike fixed and installed with a board rack.

My friend met us for a post-sunset dinner, and John flirted his way around my student as he drove down the coast and then back up to the restaurant he wanted to eat at.

It was a fun day, and when he showed up the next morning, it felt like he was doing it out of his own accord, as much as he did 6 months prior when Leeor and I were there.

We dropped my motorbike at John's favorite motorbike repair shop and set out looking for surf. My friend was not feeling well, so it was just us, three musketeers, exploring the beach spots which John checked daily before he decided where to surf. 

I tended to do the same, though if I got to a beach with some surf, I'd just go out. John, armed with apps about winds and tides, was seeking the better surf, even if it meant half a foot more (centimeters really). While I wrapped my toe with gauze and tape, hoping to minimize the pain, the churning waves quickly removed my makeshift padding, and I won't lie, those first few days seeking surf were miserable. I did catch waves, but the price of pain and stinging, along with cleaning sand off when I got home, were not really worth it.

So when my student left and the rugby 11 tournament began a week later, I spent my time there, noticing that John had a grudge against me. I knew the rugby team from Chiang Mai and had told them I would hop into a few games for well over 5 months since their captain came to Khanom with his family and stayed in my villa. I thought I had told John that I had other activities I would be engaged in while in Phuket. I half expected him to come hang out and check out the games. Surf and women were far higher in his priorities, which I had no qualms about.

On my very first game, with my toe wrapped and wearing sneakers with no cleats, I stumbled backward as I was guarding my man. Instinct took over rationality, and I extended my right arm to brace my fall. The fall was braced by my wrist, and the weight of my body delivered the pain all the way up to my shoulder and neck. I stood up, realizing I could barely rotate my right arm. Yet another injury in just a week.

Walking off the field, I hung out until the games were over, meeting various players and breathing through the pain in my right side.

Delirious and realizing I wasn't going to be surfing or playing rugby the next day, I saw that John had sent me an image of a pretty young lady he was spending the afternoon late lunch hour with. I asked him how does he find all these women, and he gave me the name of the app he was using.

Whether it was loneliness since both my friend and my student left earlier that week, whether it was jealousy at seeing such a pretty Thai lady with my old friend, or whether it was just curiosity, I made an account and uploaded my pictures into the app.

I met my last girlfriend on Tinder, after making an account 2 days earlier, and was somewhat familiar with the "dating app game" where you click like, and wait to be liked back. I wasn't going to pay any money, which meant that any conversation would be very limited. Yet it provided a momentary escape from my pain and distraction as I was spending time in my rental home by myself.

One account, a dark-haired image of a Thai woman with the most angelic face, and multiple images that felt to be a mix of innocence and real, stood out from the many images I saw. Many whose introduction sentence indicated that they were freelance accounts, and were seeking short time rather than a dinner date. This account had an interesting sentence as well, "Is true love real?"

I clicked like.

And was gleefully surprised to see a message from the lady. She had written me first.

"Do you have LINE or WhatsApp?" I used my only text to see if she would want to communicate off the app, since I was a free account and communication was very limited.

"Do you speak Thai?" came the response.

Waiting the 10 minutes before I could send another message, I admitted that indeed I do speak some Thai. I moved to Thailand 3 years prior to focus on learning to speak Thai. I met the girl I lived with just a few weeks after making that decision, and I admit that living with a woman who did not speak English both helped and provided the most challenging personal moments of our lives.

At this point, months after learning she cheated and left, months after dealing with my ex-girlfriend taking out a loan on the motorbike I paid in full but kept in her name, months after paying off the loan and dealing with her and her monkey of a man playing games and even calling me a liar and thief, waiting for them to release the book of ownership. I was called a liar and a thief by the monkey man after pointing out that none of her clothes or items were in the condo when I returned from my trip. I told him she must have had someone go in and pack her things. She insisted that she did not.

Only to find out that she talked with the cleaning lady that used to clean our condo every now and then, who indeed packed all her things in 3 huge trash bags and stored them in the condo building main storage room. Even after sending them pictures of these packed bags, and validating with the cleaning lady that indeed she did that upon the girl's request, I was receiving threatening messages, which simply led to blocking him. I eventually got my ownership book, and thanks to my friend, I was able to register the bike in her name, and finally let go of that whole horror story.

Regardless, I am old enough and wise enough to accept responsibility, and I know that 3 years of learning to speak Thai were probably difficult for my ex-girlfriend, and I probably could have been a better boyfriend, not just paying for a business and all trips and meals, but also paying for her haircuts, nails, and giving her money toward her daughter. While that would have meant that I am some sugar daddy, I could appreciate that she left seeking such a man. Hopefully, monkey man is a sugar daddy.

Yet when I returned from my 3 months Yoga tour, I was surprised to realize that my Thai skills are rather solid.

Thus, when I could text PlaBoon again, I said, "Yes, I speak some Thai. My name is Gaby."

She gave me her LINE ID, and we began chatting in real time. "I am Pla, like fish," she wrote to me. "That's so cute," I wrote back in Thai. "I can even read in Thai." Which is true, but I admit, I do validate what I read with a translator app. Yet, it was interesting to look at myself and realize how far I had actually progressed since returning from my first outing out of Thailand since Covid began.

Since the app is based on location, I believed she was living in Phuket, and by the second day of communication, I asked, "Would you like to meet for coffee/tea or a dinner date?" 

That's when I learned that Pla lives in Issan, a North-East region in Thailand. I've never traveled in that area, though I already had plans for my next yoga tour, that would start at the beginning of July and end 3 months later in October.

That first week was unique since Pla realized I play rugby, I surf, and I have been in a motorbike accident. My arm was hurting, my toe was stinging, and while I may have been comical in my messages, as the week ended she wrote, "You are too adventurous for me. I think it is best we don't talk anymore.”

The authenticity of her messages and the playful attitude evident in each response had captivated my interest. Moreover, her beauty, as seen through her images, had also touched my heart. Grateful for the connection we shared, I replied, "I completely understand and value your time and honesty. I lead a unique traveler's life, different from most. Thank you for the enjoyable chats we've had."

My son was arriving the following day, and he would be spending the next 11 days with me and John.

The next morning, I received a message from Pla saying, "Good morning, I hope you have a good day."

It was nice to still be in touch with her, and even though my lifestyle might be hard for her to comprehend, I enjoyed keeping our conversations rooted in the realm of distant friendship.