Koh Pha Ngan: The Trilogy Episode II

After two more days of lounging on the beach, hour long beach-side Thai massages, and wandering around town I was ready for some action. Joe was completing the first day of his dive certification course so I was on my own.

I started the day with a yoga class. It was held outside and overlooked a beautiful pond surrounded by plants and flowers. It was early-ish so it wasn't too hot, and it felt great. After my class I wanted to check out a different part of the island. I'd read that the north shore was home to some of Koh Pha Ngan's most beautiful beaches, so I headed north. It took about 20 minutes to reach Haad Salad and about halfway there the sky opened up and it started pouring. Not wanting to abandon my mission I crossed my fingers in hopes that the rain would stop before my destination was reached. The gods must have been smiling down on me, because miraculously, the rain tapered to a mist. The north part of the island is much less developed than the southern or western regions. There was only a handful of shops along a dirt road on the way to the beach, but I wasn't there for the shops anyhow. The beach I was staying on, Ban Tai, paled in comparison to Haad Salad. The sand, so fine and soft, the water, a perfect translucent turquoise, and all surrounded by lush green mountains. All I wanted to do was lay in the soft sand and enjoy the natural beauty, so that's just what I did. After a few hours it began raining again, so I hopped into an open air, beachfront massage shop for a $10 Thai massage while I watched the rain dimple the water's surface.

I made a friend

As the day faded into late afternoon I figured I had better get a taxi back, as I was unsure how hard it would be to even find a taxi so far out from the main tourist center. Trying to find my way back to the main road was even a challenge in itself, and by the time I did it was pouring again, which I don't think helped my chances. I was turned down by five different shops that advertised taxis-no one wanted to go as far as I was asking-or if they were willing they wanted five times the reasonable rate. At last when I was soaking wet and just about ready to start hoofing it I found a willing driver.

After I finally made it back, Joe and I ate Mexican for dinner, which is more of a treat than you can ever know. Aside from Italian food, Japan really doesn't offer much in the way of ethnic or foreign foods. The fact that there was a Mexican and a Greek restaurant less than 15 minutes from our bungalow was such a source of joy for me. How I missed hummus and burritos!!

The next day was the third and last day of Joe's dive certification course, so I joined him for a dive. Our dive site for the day was Sail Rock, a giant rock in the middle of the ocean which has created a natural habitat for hundreds of species of marine life. I was even told about a "chimney," or vertical swim through, in which we could explore. In short, a perfect place for a diver to play. I was so excited about this dive-it would probably one of my best dives yet!

What it looks like on a good day.

When we arrived at the dive site, there were huge waves breaking onto the north side of the rock and washing around to the south side-where we were going to descend. I was more than happy to get down to depth because I felt like a bobbing apple on the surface. But as we descended, my hope for this to be one of the best dives of my life, slowly faded away as did the visibility. At depth, about 60 feet, there was a visibility of no more than two feet. I was expecting at least twenty, but more like forty!

There were four of us in our group, including the dive master. Joe was my buddy. He was swimming behind me and I was swimming hard to keep up with the diver in front of me because the current was so strong. All I could see was the bright color of his fins. At one point we stopped because one of our divers was having trouble equalizing his mask. I turned around to see what Joe was up to and he was nowhere. I looked hard into the green murkiness for a silhouette. When I turned around to notify the dive master I found myself completely alone. I turned around again just to make sure, but I saw nothing, no one. At this point I was disoriented because I had turned around so many times. I couldn't be sure which direction we had been swimming in. I didn't have a compass on me and if I swam in the wrong direction it would be out into the open sea. Being 60 feet under the ocean's surface, alone, and seeing nothing but murky green water all around me, above me, and below me was one of the scariest experiences. There were so many particles rushing past me (because the crazy strong current) I became slightly disoriented again and wasn't sure if I was sinking like a rock or sailing up to the surface-both of which are equally dangerous. I kept my eye on my air and depth gauges to make sure I was at the correct depth and okay on my air supply.

I think one's instant reaction in this situation is to freak out, which triggers rapid, shallow breathing; something a diver should never do. To calm myself I focused on my breath, slow and steady in, slow and steady out. As my nerves calmed I remembered the dive masters word's, "if you get separated count to 60 and slowly ascend to the surface. DO NOT continue on your own or join another group!" I wasn't wearing a watch, but I waited what I guessed was two minutes, although it felt more like twenty. When I was sure it had been long enough and I was ready to ascend I caught a glimpse of the dive master's fluorescent fins. I had never been so happy to see anyone in my whole life! I swam near and saw the other members of my group. After we swam a ways I realized there was one more diver than we originally had. When we stopped and the instructor turned around I realized this wasn't my group. My heart quickly sank like a lead weight to the bottom of the ocean. She saw me, realized I had lost my group, and gave me the okay signal. I signaled back that I was okay. I knew at that point that I should probably surface, even though I had been swimming with them for awhile. But like a siren from the sea she motioned for me to join then, and even though I knew I shouldn't, I just couldn't say no. Together we swam a bit further until we realized one of their members was missing as well. It was impossible to see any kind of marine life in the limited visibility, let alone stay together in a group. We ascended together, making a safety stop at 15 feet to allow our lungs to adjust, and the nitrogen to release from our bodies. When we finally made it to the surface we realized we had drifted at least a half mile from Sail Rock. The currents we so strong we had been pulled out to sea. With no other choice we began to swim.

When I finally made it back to my boat (after being picked up by the other group's boat and taxied over to mine) I had been missing for thirty minutes. The dive master had enlisted the help of other dive master's and had been using search and rescue techniques to try to find me. I was relieved to be back on the boat, but felt like a real jerk for freaking everyone out and not surfacing sooner. We had to abandon our dive site for the day because the conditions were so terrible. One of the dive master's on board told me he'd never seen Sail Rock in such bad conditions in the few years he'd been taking divers there. So, I was expecting the best diving conditions of my life, and instead I got the worst. I was hugely disappointed, and we only had one day left on the island so there wasn't even time to try again.

The Crows Are Eating The Koi...and other strange occurances

Yes, this has happened. The crows have learned that the fat little koi swimming in the pond at school make for a delectable meal. How long will it take for all of them to disappear?

Speaking of disappearing...my jitensha seems to have disappeared. And it happened at the most inopportune time. After returning home from a strenuous day of teaching cute little children I realized that my keys were on the opposite side of the door-the side opposite me. And Joe wouldn't be home for five more hours. As I pressed my forehead against the door while thinking what to next it was most frustrating to know that my keys were dangling from their hook just inches away from my head-on the opposite side of the door. So, what else to do but hop on a train and meet a friend for dinner.

I returned three hours later to find my prized bicycle missing-because I couldn't lock it without the keys-that were on the opposite side of the door. I hope the creep that swiped my bike didn't realize the brakes were out and crashed into an irrigation canal.

I find it very curious that in a country where people won't cross the street on a red light, it is acceptable to steal a bicycle that obviously belongs to someone. I have been told that it isn't really considered stealing, but rather "borrowing". If someone needs to get somewhere they will borrow an unlocked bike, ride it to their destination, and then leave it. Often times they'll turn up months later.

This brings me to the other very curious contradictions that I have discovered about Japan. Forget the obvious contradiction of traditional culture versus the ultra modern. These aren't easily visible; it's taken me the six months I've been here to become aware of some.

I. Eco V Not
Japan has a very organized and precise method for trash collection. It must be separated into many different categories: burnables and food garbage, soft plastics, hard plastics glass and metal, PET bottles (without the labels-which clearly fit into the soft plastic category), PET lids, and batteries. My town has different colored bags for each category. At my workplace there are no less than eight different bins!! What I find most comical is that quite often Joe and I aren't sure what category things fall into; at which point a serious debate will ensue as to whether it might be soft plastic, hard plastic, or food garbage. Pros and cons will be weighed out for each category until a winner is selected. Every week when I take the trash out I cross my fingers in hope that it won't be rejected by the garbage police. If they see you have incorrectly sorted, your garbage will find itself right back on your doorstep!

At first I was so impressed by this method-so impressed that cities make their residents work just a little harder so recycling is that much easier. But I've come to learn that the efforts of trash separation are all in vain! It's all just incinerated! I have also come to learn that the people of my town seem to find it quite convenient to dump unwanted appliances, cars, boats, and equipment on country roads, where I assume it is their hope that left objects will quickly become overgrown with vines so no one will notice. Oddly, littering is also very prevalent. Maybe people are secretly rebelling against the insane methods of trash collection?

BUT! And here I find a very curious contradiction. In Japan, nature is highly revered. In spring, cherry blossom viewing is a VERY big deal. There are even news broadcasts dedicated to the advancing cherry blossom front, percentage of blossoms in bloom, and best days for viewing. In fall, viewing of autumn leaves is also very popular. Moon viewing should not be forgotten either. How then, can a society which holds natural beauty so high, simultaneously treat it so poorly?

Also, I have found that in Japan they have an ingenious method of selling refill bags for various household goods such as detergent, soap, or shampoo. You buy a bottle of the product the first time around and any time thereafter you only need a refill bag; which uses significantly less packaging (i.e. better for the environment) and also costs less too. It's such a great idea! I think this is so ironic, because on the other hand there are so many products (primarily food) that are packaged, and then individually packaged as well! There seems to be an abundance of individually packaged foods and I think it may be because the Japanese have a soft spot for beautifully packaged items. This also comes into play when you buy an item in a specialty shop. They will take time and carefully wrap your newly purchased item in beautiful paper-only to have you go home and rip it off. It's all about the presentation though.

II. Red Light, Green Light
As mentioned earlier, Japanese people will not under any circumstance J-walk or cross the street on a red light-whether cars are present or not. Running red lights in a car, on the other hand, is no problem! I cannot explain this as I still don't understand it myself.

III. Shitty Situation
And here we arrive at the perplexing situation surrounding the shitter. You will come across two varieties here in Japan (if you are lucky it will be option B). The contrast between the two options is so stark it is startling. And yet no one seems to mind using Option A in public restrooms (and you can bet their homes are equipped with Option B!).
Option A: A simple recess in the ground which one can squat over.

Option B. A highly advanced machine complete with automatic lid opening, heated seat, music or flushing sound effects (to drown out the potentially obscene sounds of natural bodily functions), bidet and cleansing jet, blow drier, and even a deodorizer. They are by far the most high-tech toilets I've ever seen.

IV. Busy V Sleepy
The work environment in Japan is one that encourages it's workers to appear to be frantically busy all the time. I have been told, as well as seen first hand at school, that it is very important to appear to be busy at all times. Actually I have become quite good at this myself, as I often arrive to school in the morning only to find all my classes canceled for the day. While it is important to appear busy at all times, it is also totally acceptable to take power naps at ones desk at any time throughout the day. It isn't uncommon to see someone taking a power nap during a meeting either (although they might say closing their eyes helps them concentrate on what the speaker is saying). There does seem to be some protocol in the napping dept. though. Napping should be done in the upright position, and as a rule should not last more than fifteen minutes.

It should be noted that I am absolutely enraptured by Japan, her people, beauty, and even contradictions. So much so, that I have signed another year-long contract. I am looking forward to the next 17 months with excitement and anticipation; and I look forward to discovering more curious contradictions too!