Going Home

For five months we’ve been on all sorts of transportation, some slow, some fast, some dirty, some perfect, some rickety, some swanky. All the while each public transport we sign up for takes us to a unique place. Every foodstand our bus stops at on the side of the street or terminal we disembark from is new. And now, as we sit on our 11-hour China Airlines flight from Taipei to San Francisco, with only 2 hours to go, I can’t help but think about our destination. For the first time on this trip, I know everything I need to know about where I am going, how to get around, what to beware of. I know the subway system, I know the highways, I can read the street signs. And as I think about how familiar it will be to return home, even if it is only for six days, I can’t help but assure myself that I have been changed by my travel experiences. And these differences allow me to see my familiar world in a whole new light. It will be a new place to me even though I’ve lived there for almost five years.


(That's us during one of our fancy dinners with Andy's college friend, Abby, who came to Thailand and stoke dus out for three days!)

As I reflect on my time away from home, I keep coming back to one glaring change that has occurred within me. My confidence. Before our trip I would rarely speak up when I needed or wanted something. If I am with Andy, then yes, I would let my voice be heard. She is the one comfort zone I can always trust in. But when it was regarding someone I didn’t know, I would just let things be, not wanting to disrupt any unseen flow that may be working in that particular environment. If a waiter seemed busy and I needed more ice, I would normally let my need for frozen water remain just that, a need. Of course that is just a small, uninmportant example of life before my trip. Needing ice can hardly be described as heroic. My problem was that I did not want to bother people. I liked my fly-on-the-wall life. I went unnoticed, observing life as it happened in front of me.

For a while, once the trip began, I continued living the same way. People would push me, the waiter would ignore me, smoke was blown in my face at every café. I sat and watched other people get what they wanted by asking for what they needed. Andy was always my motivator back home. She could call up an airline and pepper the customer service person with question after question without a hint of apprehension. And on the trip, she seemed so relax while interacting with flight attendants, cab drivers, shop owners. She has no fear.

As soon as we got to Thailand I quickly realized that my approach to life, while on the road, would leave me completely lost. I needed to climb through my fear of confrontation. Our first week, I found myself on a whirlwind adventure of complacency. I accepted what was given to me, even though it wasn’t what I paid for and I kicked myself afterwards for not speaking up about it. My best example is paying for a 14-hour bus ride and receiveing a 22-hour odyssey. What was supposed to be an easy overnight trip became a Forest Gump box of chocolates, “You never know whatcher gonna git.”

Travelers, tourists, whatever you want to call us, are fish food for those working in the industry. And it took about a week to realize that if I didn’t demand to receive what I wanted, I would be walked on. I began to assert myself, not waiting for Andy to take the lead. I would initiate the bargaining discussions and fight for my price. I didn’t always get it of course, but my ability to show no fear resonated in my heart and mind. I was fighting back! Not in a malicious, rude, annoying way, but in an honest, straightforward, smiley way.


(The view, it's not just a lame TV show)

I adopted one simple tactic that Andy has employed her whole life and that she had tried to teach me back home. Ask questions. Keep asking questions. When they give you the answer you want, ask the same question again. More often than not, the answers they give you change with each inquiry. Question what they tell you and speak your truth when the moment arises.

In the three months we spent in Southeast Asia, I have become a smart traveler. I am not the best traveler due to my inexperience, but I feel I am making some major progress. As for bargaining goes, I am not there to make friends, I am there to get a price I am happy with. I now know that the shopkeeper or cab driver thinks the same as me. They want to sell their goods at a price that makes them happy. We are truly in the same boat.

I realized this just the other day during our waning time in Bangkok. Andy and I had set aside some money to spend because we knew we were flying home. We wanted to buy as much as we could with an allotted amount of money and everything had to fit in a large duffel bag that we also had to purchase somewhere on Kao San Road. We split up. Andy was looking for jewelry, scarves, and clothes. I was looking for t-shirts, a new murse, pants, and presents for the kids back home.

I worked my way from stall to stall, haggling with professionals. They see the likes of me every day, a hundred times over. My technique was to half every initial price they gave me and hopefully we could meet in the neighborhood of my number. I actually began to enjoy it. Can you believe it? I was almost smiling as the negotiations were going on. It was a sight to see. I was throwing out catch phrases that I thought they could understand. “Special price” or “Discount” or “Happy Hour”. I’d say things like, “C’mon, you can do better than that.” Always with a smile though. Always smiling. I looked them in the eyes and I even got a few chuckles out of them throughout the back and forth banter. They liked my style.


(This was where we stayed for our final two nights on Koh Ya Noi thanks to Abby. It was a seriously phat bungalow. Seriously. Sorry didn't bring my camera while bargaining. Instead you get shots of the good life.)

As we left our hotel the next morning for the airport, we went in search of a cab. We had been in Bangkok two other times and had taken cabs to and from the far away airport a bunch of times. I knew the fare and I was not going to budge from my number.

“300 baht you, 300 baht her,” the cabbie said as we approached him from our side street.
“No thanks,” I said with a smile. “ I find another cab.”
“What you want to pay?” he replied.
“300 for both, we pay tolls too. Total is 365 baht”
“OK sir 450 baht plus you pay toll.”

I walked away smiling and said I would find another person to drive me to the airport.

“OK sir, 400 baht plus toll.”

I had him on the ropes. He had come down without me even countering his second or third offer.

“No thanks, I want 300, 300. That’s what I pay. I’ve been to Bangkok before. I know the price. 300.” I began to walk away again.

The driver, an older man with a round face and thinning hair, began to smile. He knew he had been beat and Andy and I could see he was going to take our offer of 300 baht plus tolls. He stopped me from hailing another cab.

“OK OK, sir, 300.”

He helped us with our bags filled with dirty clothes and presents for everyone. We popped into the back seat and let the air conditioning hit our sweaty faces.
“Ooooh, you good bargainer,” he said. “Where you from? Israel?”
“California,” I replied with pride.
“Ooooh, America, lot of money. You bargain good. Ha ha, good, good. America. Good bargainer. You. Ha ha.”

All the time he says this with a high-pitched voice. I couldn’t see his face but the words were spoken through high cheeks and a grinning mouth. He was my last test and I had passed with top marks. I had a price I wanted and I stood my ground and I gained his respect for sticking to my objective. I arrived in Thailand without a clue and I left with a cab driver’s admiration. As we drove through the smoggy traffic toward the airport, I looked out the window and smiled to myself, knowing that I had stared down my biggest issue – the fear of confrontation – and I had won.

And now, I am only a few hundred miles away from the west coast of California, from my home with all my comfort surroundings. My friends, my burrito shop, my park, my car. But besides bringing back presents for friends and knickknacks for my house, I bring back a new attitude. I am not afraid anymore of speaking my truth. I have lived a long time accepting what is in front of me and now, thanks to five months on the road, I can ask for what I want without trepidation. Also, I am fully aware that I deserve to get what I want.