Drokpa Journal

‘Twas the day before Christmas
and all ‘cross the globe
not a traveler stirred -
not the young, nor the old.

Backpacks were thrown
in a corner with glee,
not to be worn
for a day - or a week!

My cold shower taken,
the squat toilet used,
I wandered the streets
to check out the views.

First I encountered
the gauntlet of touts -
the pleading, the grabbing,
the stories, the shouts.

“Hello friend. Change money?
Need smoke? Wanna date?
My family own guesthouse,
for you, give good rate.”

Next came the standard,
“You wanna take trip?
For you not expensive -
a few thousand kip.

We take you to waterfalls,
temples, and ruins.
Our guide he speak English.
He know what he doin’.”

Finally emerging,
my patience intact,
I ran into beggars,
“Now how should I act?”

Eyes focused forward,
as if I’m not seeing?
A nod and a smile,
since they are human being?

Some seemed the real-deal,
while others seemed fake.
Should I give something?
How much would it take?

Next to the market
to check out the wares.
Judging it’s ‘local’
by the pointing and stares.

Meat, grains, and spices,
medicine, clothes, and shoes.
And numerous things
which I don’t know their use.

Off to the internet
cafe to roam.
Hoping to find
a few e-mails from home.

A check of the headlines
to see what’s now ‘hot’.
When it’s all over,
I’m out 60 baht.

To an outdoor cafe
for some food and some ales.
The chatting with others -
the swapping of tales.

“How long have you been out,
and where have you been?
What’s that place like?
Would you go there again?

How was this guesthouse?
Did you find it too loud?
Where can one go
to escape from the crowd?”

Then out on the street
what did we see appear?
A pack of bus drivers -
their rigs still in gear.

They weren’t taking kindly
to days with no pay.
All for some reindeer,
a fat man, and sleigh.

They said they’d give discounts
(only charge us twice rate!)
They’d turn down their music.
They’d even use brakes!

Tuk-tuks were next
saying what we’d been wishin’.
They’d drive us directly,
no stops for commission!

No jewelers, no tailors,
no souvenir stand.
No stopping to see
how they’re all made by hand.

We couldn’t believe it -
our luck had now turned.
Next year would be different.
We wouldn’t get burned!

The drivers then left
(after hours of trying).
Realizing, finally,
nobody was buying.

But as they departed
they said with a sneer,
“We won’t really change.
It be same-same next year.”

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