Thonburi Walking Tour

The past few weeks I've been spending sooooo much time on debauchery and I felt that I need some respite from all that. So last weekend I invited L, PJ, and the Pranses on a walking tour of Thonburi, which is Thailand's old capital, just across the Chao Phraya River. Because I take the river boat quite often, I've always been curious about the interesting temples and churches that line the bank of the Thonburi side. Luckily, I found this recommended walking tour that plots some fascinating sites not usually found in the conventional guide books.

We began our tour by taking the Choao Phraya Express Boat to the Memorial Bridge. It was then my first time to walk across the river, indeed a different perspective to observe the bustling waterway.



A few twisted alleys from the bridge led us to the Princess Mother Memorial Park, an oasis in the middle of the narrow and cramped neighborhood of shophouses. Around the said park is Kuan Ou, a Chinese-style shrine perched on the edge of the river.



Our next stop was Wat Prayoon. The wat (temple) is very typical of most Thai temples save for the humongous chedi/stupa that looms over the complex.



More narrow sois later, we found the Santa Cruz Church. PJ, a devout Catholic, was pretty excited for the visita iglesia, he even brought a veil (as in!). OK, it was a sarong. Disappointingly, the doors of the church were closed. It was very fascinating how they put the picture of the King on the facade of the church, along with the national and royal flags. I've never seen anything like it.


Our next stop was Wat Kalayanamit, a riverside wat that has a huge, and I mean fucking ginormous, Buddha statue. It was the most humongous indoor Buddha statue I've ever seen, although I heard there are far more larger ones than this. It's unbelievable really. Together with a number of worshipers, PJ and L did some of those fortune sticks thingie at the foot of the image.

Check this picture of me in front of the Buddha. Can anybody tell me which is shinier: the Buddha statue or me? Doesn't my face look shimmering, shining, and splendid (rolls eyes)? Note to self: oiliness is next to ugliness.


Outside the wat, is the jetty where a flock pigeons permanently reside. We had a blast feeding them and chasing them crazy all over the place. (Thanks to PJ for the shot below.)


Wat Arun (The Temple of Dawn) was actually not in the agenda, but since we realized that it's just a short walk away from the temple, we decided to drop by the famed Bangkok landmark anyway. I had been there previously on a rainy day, and indeed it was worth visiting again the place during sunset. The river scene could not be more than resplendent, especially if one looks to the large expanse that is the Bangkok side of the Chao Phraya River. We were clearly mesmerized by the view from Wat Arun, the temple guards had to literally drive us away with their whistles a few minutes before closing time.




Crossing back to the other side of the river, we had dinner at one of the sidewalk food stalls at the jetty near the Grand Palace. After a long chit chat session, we walked towards the usual Saturday evening frenzy in Khao San Road where we had some drinks before we finally went home exhausted.

By any measure, I had a great time that day although I don't know exactly how much UV rays touched my skin during such a hot afternoon.

Flip Flops

Some notes on the weekend.

Friday night. These bastards! They can't keep a commitment no? Maybe I expected too much from people. Hey, as I said I'm still learning the rules of this bloody and ruthless game of dating and yeah, I learned one big lesson last Friday. And that is, I CAN HAVE FUN ALONE! (Does anybody notice the bitterness?) So I went to this Silom bar on my own, watched the drag show, and tried parading around the bar like I fucking owned it. I was utterly frustrated. Too many gorgeous but intimidating men! On my second glass of vodka I saw my not-so-favorite officemate in the crowd. This prompted me to make a quick dash out of the bar. It was only 12:30 am for crying out loud! So I asked the cab driver to bring me to S, which is a gay bar popular with the locals. There I found the place full of enchanting Thai gay men gobbling bottles of whiskey. Not surprisingly, the bar only serves whiskey and beer. The music is horrendous, but who cares if drool-worthy, skinny go-go boys are gyrating on several ledges. In no time I brazenly joined the table of a group of friends. Ok, let's end the story there.

Saturday night. A gay Filipino friend - who I shall refer to as J - wanted to see Khao San Road on a Saturday evening. As the self-proclaimed Queen of Khao San, I volunteered to show him around. We ended up having some beer and watching the crowd in that chaotic part of BKK. I decided of course to wear just flip flops to blend in with the back-packers that dominate the area. Anyway, I told J about my exciting visit to S the previous night. S is just a couple of blocks from Khao San. The fag wanted us to go there. Can you imagine me going inside a gay bar in my flip flops? As in tsinelas that I bought for 59 baht! But guess what, that's what I actually did. I swear, I could've died right there. But who cares, we were already inside, the boys were tempting, and everybody was drunk. I called on all the saints that nobody would ridicule me and my tsinelas. I ended up gorging four large bottles of Singha, the local beer, to help me forget of my crude appearance. Again, J and I joined the table of some Thai men and started having fun with some catchy Thai pop songs blasting from the speakers.

Sunday. All my plans of going back to Chinatown and doing my grocery shopping were ditched coz I had one of the most atrocious hang over in recent memory. Ugh.

I Just Love Internet Cafes

I did the previous entry (and this current one) at the internet cafe a few steps outside our apartment. For the past hour or so, four people practically spewed out their private lives for the consumption of everybody in the cafe. Thanks to Yahoo messenger, Skype, and MSN!

One woman is berating her husband about his infidelity. A man is suspecting his girlfriend of seeing someone else. Another woman is asking some money from her Indian boyfriend. And another girl is crying over something I cannot comprehend (it's in Ilocano).

God, it's only 12 noon and I'm having my dose of soap opera. Lovely!

Proudly Pink

From months and months of storage, I pulled out my jacket from the lowest depths of my closet last night. I was about to leave for Malate for the gay pride celebration when the sky opened in torrents. The rain somehow spoiled the street party they set up in the corner of Nakpil and Orosa, as long lines of soaking gay men in all shapes and sizes elbowed their way towards the shut street. For thirty minutes I waited for Jaf outside the gate that blocked the intersection. Ducking under a virtually leafless tree, I was drenched in no time.

After meeting Jaf (with a friend in tow) at almost 1 a.m., we quickly headed to Bed only to be greeted by a queue that spilled all over the courtyard in front of the bar. The rain clearly dissuaded us from joining the line. So we jostled our way into the thick crowd that moved in all directions. The crowd by the way was a mind-blowing array of gorgeous (albeit damp) men.

We opted to move to nearby O instead. The doorman however told us that they're not allowing anyone inside anymore because the place was fully packed. We had to beg him to let us in, which proved to be successful. O, being the tiny bar that it is, was filled to the rafters. Go-go boys and drag queens were perched on ledges, with the party crowd worshipping them from below. We inched our way towards the bar, stepping on shoes and being groped from all directions in the process. The place seemed to pulsate as one dazed being. It did not help however that the place was fucking hot (the temperature I mean), the mirrors all over the bar were steaming.

More of Jaf's friends joined us inside O, thus the frenzy started. Japheth, excited about the 23 pounds he lost after religiously going to the gym the past months, quickly took off his shirt, and started gyrating with every person around him. A friend grabbed him and they started kissing, to the delight of the onlookers. You can always count on Jaf to give a good show. As the night progressed more twosomes were entwined in passionate revelry.

Me, the manang, sulked in a corner, chain-smoked, and planned my clothes for next week. Of course I also played the role of the requisite voyeur. The men are gorgeous in general so I was more than delighted.

Having been lost in my thoughts, Jaf dashed to me to report that he had french-kissed six guys so far. And we were barely two hours in the place. I can't be more proud of him. He quickly turned away and grabbed a hot stranger, flossed him using his tongue, and asked his name when they both ran out of breath. They danced for about fifteen minutes, said goodbye to each other, and Jaf hopped on to the next arms that would welcome him at least momentarily.

At around four, I witnessed way too much french-kissing and crotch-rubbing that I decided to call it a night. I left the bar and discovered that the party outside had no signs of ever waning. I can safely say that gay pride weekend is the biggest night in Malate every year. My "tribe" came in full force, perhaps until the sun goes up. But sunrise was two hours away. Instead what I saw was a round moon that gave the city a charming iridescence.

Beauty in Chaos

Last Saturday was the perfect weather to come out of the house. So from the Guadalupe station I hopped on the (relatively) new Pasig River ferry service. The boat was practically empty save for a few families who were doing some sightseeing as well. I almost regretted taking the boat the instant the stinking smell of the river crept in my nose. It was very nauseating and for a moment there I considered alighting on the next station.

For years now Metro Manila had been dumping its filthy sewage in the river, which obviously explains the stench that pervaded much of the ride. When we did a study of the Pasig River in college we were told that the government, together with a few foreign donor agencies, was trying to clean it up. While that program had successfully minimized most of the solid waste in the river and relocated a portion of the squatters from the banks, there's still much to be done to fully revive the river.

Certainly it's not the boat ride for tourists who want to see a better picture of Manila. If anything, one is treated to sights of a sordid metropolis. Squatters were perched on the river's banks. I even saw people living under bridges like rats. Nearly half of the time we were surrounded by oil depots and crumbling factories. This is alternated by more slums and overflowing housing projects. Garbage was also strewn all over although indeed it had been reduced considerably. It is said that before one can walk across the river over the garbage. In fact, the river ferry was only made possible when most of the solid waste had been minimized.

A short section of the ride gave us passengers a glimpse of the Malacanang Palace. However a Presidential Security Guard who was on the boat prevented us from taking pictures, which I could not see the point of.

The last station is the one on Escolta, which is part of the Binondo area already. I've seen some parts of the Chinese district during a guided tour by Carlos Celdran last January. I realized however that there are still a few interesting old, but decaying, buildings that were not discussed in the tour. I took that chance to gawk at them. However, I did not dare pull out my camera to take pictures considering how dangerous the area is.

Passing several narrow alleys and the fetid esteros of Binondo, I walked the several blocks to Quaipo. Quaipo was on its usual frenzied and anarchic self, which I tried absorbing. The place seems to have some deep "human-ness" to it especially with the holy and the immoral sitting side by side. I did not take pictures of course because we all know that Quiapo is pickpocket central. When I reached the "Muslim side" of Quiapo I was instantly drawn to the dizzying bazaar of pirated DVDs, where I bought a compilation of yoga instructional videos (among other DVDs).

At about lunch time I took an FX to the SM Mall of Asia where I treated my self to huge plate of Pad Thai noodles (hay ka mahal!). Later in the afternoon I met Ipe and Tintin, former officemates in Davao, who watched Spider-Man 3 at the Imax theater. We tried catching the sunset but it was hidden behind clouds. A few hours later we watched fireworks. We experienced bumper-to-bumper traffic on our ride home, which was explained by the fact that two days later would be election day already.

Yesterday, voting day, my sister and I decided to head off to Divisoria instead (we are both registered in Surigao so voting was not an option). The last time I was in Divisoria was six years ago. I figured it was time to visit again the rowdy marketplace of all things cheap (and pirated). My sister and I ended up buying similar sunglasses.