A Dark and Stormy Night

Was it the crumbling cement walls smelling and crawling of mildew down to the edges of the very filthy worn and lumpy mattress? Could have been the feelings evoked from the empty picture frames clearly torn off with some aggression.  The forever dark dripping sounding from the flooded bathroom with army-organized-ants that invade all the cracks and holes could have done it too.  Perhaps just knowing that this was a place where guests have the option to "pay-by-the-hour" knowing what kind of darkness this place potentially holds.  Whatever the reason, intuition told me this place was up to no good from the moment the shirtless young punk with a cigarette and spiked hair told us we didn't need a key at his family's hotel.

So as budget seekers that we are, we took the place and I insisted on having a key.

Pulling our our best James Bond tactics to check if anyone entered the room, we left for an awesome evening in a faraway street and bustling market tucked into the borderlands of Thailand and Cambodia.


As we returned to this 'out of town" hotel...my nerves started up again.  Starting with the fact that this place was beyond the place where the streets are no longer lit with street lights.  As we dove into ditches with each passing car, we prayed for our safety and denied a mysterious man on a motorcycle who offered us a ride through the darkest section of road.

Upon our arrival, as I had much expected...ALL of the "booby-traps" had been breached.  Including the blanket design intricately formed over our backpacks.  Luckily we had taken all our money and passports, but this simply crossed THE line in me.

Approaching Thais and blaming them of something is THE line one never crosses, but I decided in all my learnt diplomacy as a former cultural ambassador here many years ago to approach matters in the most respectful way possible.  The conversation was confusing on both ends, as they talked in circles about how there is only one key to the room and that no one would go there...with me trying to explain our pre-set "booby-traps" in all my best efforts and patience in Thai.  We reached a failure to communicate cross-culturally and when one of the women started to get huffy-puffy.  We returned to the wretched doom-bearing room of ours.

As if we were two naive "falung" (foreigners) in a dark gloomy place with bad things in store for us, the rain began to POUR. I mean just down pour drenching to the bone rain.  My imagination in all of this darkness went wild.    I went through the list of bad vibes: the rain would drown out any yelling in the night, we're outside of town on the darkest stretch of road, we have no idea of it was the owners of the family or some unknown guest at the hotel knowing how to pick locks might have in store for the two obvious foreigner give-away sign: backpacks.

In all of our fear, we asked for some money back.  A close to hysterical woman of the house ordered the punk-kid to give us less than half, but with our parents in mind it was the best decision we made.  No such thing as becoming headlines on the newspaper the next day.  No way no how.

We ran.  We fled.  We turned our backs on wrong.

I remember splashing through mid-shin deep puddles, lights from passing cars reflecting off the pavement, the bottom of my skirt drenched and muddy, holding hands.  We approached the first people we saw.  A beautifully calm woman in front of a the very common restaurant garage setups.  We told her what happened and as if on key, one of the men eating there pulled out a hand-held radio and made a call.

Before we knew it, before we caught our breaths even, a police SUV pulled up with an off-duty as our escort to a hotel in the late and dark hours of the evening.  Safety can lay itself like a blanket upon those that seek it in the darkest of nights.  We were greeted at the most beautiful hotel we've yet to encounter by a security guard in camouflage and two hotel workers with the sweetest gentlest smiles.

After both being given the most inexpensive price WITH a discount, we were escorted to what we believed to be their most beautiful room.  Both the camo-wearing man and gentle hotel worker showed us every detail of the room....you know, 12 foot glass sliding doors, marble bathroom, our first air conditioned room, slippers, warm shower....all things cozy and welcoming.



Doing the right thing has an abundance of blessings.  I was humbled that we fled that dark gloom and how the rest played out.  Even a breakfast in the morning.

Mmm the sweet smell of safety.
M