The Hua Hin Jazz Festival

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Sawaee-kop. This is the "New Jordan" writing to you from my teacher's lounge during a much-needed break. I say "New Jordan" because I am now "Jordan Dark." The suntan competition is over here. I win. Funny, the Thais: they spend all their energy avoiding the sun and buying skin-whitening products of all kinds. Meanwhile, Kristin and I walk around half naked, assuming various uncomfortable positions just to brown our butts evenly.

So the mission this past weekend (Note: I am post-dating this. It's now the 20th) was to find some sun and sand. Though we can claim to live on an "island," the surrounding rivers don't provide the sandy beaches we were craving.

I was all down to go to Pattaya, which is only an hour Southeast of Bangkok. Then the teachers at my school informed us that Pattaya is the drug, sex and sin capital of Southeast Asia. Well, this solidified MY resolve to check it out; however, I was quickly outvoted by the girls (thanks a lot, suffrage movement!) and we went back to the list of beaches within a reasonable distance of Bangkok. Luckily, our decision was practically made for us when our Bangkok buddy, "James the Brit," informed us of a Jazz festival taking place on the beautiful beach of Hua Hin. After we made a quick inquiry with our Thai teachers/travel agents, we learned that Hua Hin is where the summer palace of the King is. Well, if it's fit for him...

Getting there was no small feat. The entourage consisted of Kristin, 'English' Emma, 'Krazy' Kori, and myself. The bus ride to Bangkok was uneventful but way longer than it really should have been (a common trend throughout Thailand). As per usual, we hadn't bothered to check the train or bus schedules before we left so we were wholly dependent on Lady Luck to catch the late train from Bangkok to Hua Hin. Making matters even tighter was the fact that we couldn't decide whether it'd be faster to take a bus or a train to Hua Hin. "Which station should we ask this already confused cabbie to drop us at?" we asked ourselves, while already sitting in the cab. I thought back to my summer spent working on Lexington Ave. I recalled the mad rushes to the Long Island shore that defined each Friday afternoon. While remembering the bumper-to-bumper stretches of the "L.I.E Crawl" and the unbearable frustration born of sun-baked leather seats and idle tires, I suggested that a train ride might spare us some traffic-induced aggravation, and we told the cabbie to step on it.

We were thus deposited on the steps of Bangkok's own Penn Station (complete with KFC), and not a moment too soon. The next train to Hua Hin was scheduled to leave not five minutes hence! We bought a handful of 3rd class tickets and climbed the steps of our carriage just as the whistle blew.

We found our seats (Thailand has assigned seats for everything, including movie theaters!) and breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was around 7pm and we'd just made the day's last train to Hua Hin. The train ride was slated to be three hours. A very conservative estimate as the ride unfolded to about four and change.

I remained in my seat for about five minutes of it. Shortly after Bangkok's sprawling suburbs had enveloped us, a combination of excitement, restlessness, and lousy book management (I'd just finished mine earlier in the day and had failed to pack a fresh 'un) found myself asking Kori if she'd accompany me to the dining car for a beer. She accepted my proposal and we made our way to the adjoining car where we planted ourselves at a table, tossed our arms out the window and proceeded to enjoy our one beer.

Four hours later the very same table was laden with empty brown beer carcasses, twisted caps, cigarette butts and some remnants of a once warm coconut pastry that I couldn't stop myself from picking at. What had started as an innocent conversation about our respective teaching experiences had deviated into an amalgamation of discourse. A verbal and cerebral journey that flowed like the smooth bends of the steel tracks beneath us. It was probably utter shit though; we were fairly smashed by the end, ha ha. Needless to say when our diesel horse pulled into the station at Hua Hin we were all smiles and laughs...and hops.

An unexpected and fantastic mindset it was when we hit the busy streets that night. The fist thing I noticed was the breeze. It was certainly a welcome guest to our entourage. It carried with it the familiar taste of salt and sea to my tongue that reminded me of countless summer nights on the docks of Ocean Beach. We followed the crowd, as proper festival protocol dictates, down the main street taking in all the sights and sounds of a bustling night market. I was very pleased to see the green-lit signs of the festival's main sponsor, Heineken, liberally dispersed throughout the street. We'd all grown weary of the three Thai beers that have been sustaining us here, only one of which may be called 'good' (and only with generous flattery). We passed under a giant arch glowing green with its maker's branding. And then suddenly, the cement ground beneath our feet gave way to softness. My sandals sunk into the earth as sand rushed in, cool and refreshing to my toes. It was a welcome greeting to this festival by the sea.

Unfortunately we had crashed the party late and the music was winding down. The evening's final band owned the stage and held the vast audience captive with streaming guitar licks and sloppy-doppy piano chords, all threaded seamlessly together by a robust and, by all present accounts, funky bass line. The final jam was in full swing as we parked our rears in the sand. Our eyes exchanged marveled expressions, accompanied by rhythmic head nodding which had become uncontrollable since we had stepped onto the sand.

The jam ended to thunderous applause and a giant, swelling "Kop Kuhn Cap!" We wandered from the beach into the town to find our hostel located on a nearby street. Don't think I didn't notice the pizza shop we passed on the way.

At the hostel we met up with Sarah and James (as in "the Brit"). We quickly deposited our packs in our rooms and reconvened on the street to decide the night’s activity. It was already midnight so we agreed that a quiet night playing "shoot-the-shit" was in order. We picked up a bottle of Sam song and went back to the beach where we were welcomed by the silhouettes of a dozen or so dispersed groups who were not yet ready to call it a night. We found some chairs, poured some drinks and began swapping classroom horror stories. Not having many of my own (I have very well behaved students) I mostly listened to those stories of Kindergarten atrocities that James seemed so practiced at unwinding. Meanwhile, Kori headed off down the beach in search of some local pleasures.

After a few cups of grog I too was getting restless in my seat. I excused myself to go hunt for Kori to see what she'd dug up. It didn't take long to recognize her Farang curls and California laugh permeating a circle of local Thais just ahead of me. As I approached, they motioned me to grab a seat in the sandy circle and offered me a glass of ice water with some hint of beer still left.

I humbly accepted the offering and I was quickly introduced to the gang, which henceforth shall be referred to as the "Hua Hin Gang." Ray was the first person to introduce himself, in very good English I might add. He had lived in London for 4 years and spoke pretty solid broken English. He mainly acted as interpreter for the group. The group was mad up of 8-9 mid-20s Thais who dressed and acted like they'd been raised on a steady diet of MTV and western influenced media, baseball caps, spiked hair, baggy shorts, Abercrombie T's, etc. Right away we all seemed to click. After only a short while of hanging out and shooting the shit with them I got the sense that they were very much like my own group of friends in NY.

As the introductions progressed I noticed an older man situated in the middle of the group who seemed to command a good deal of respect from the others, while at the same time fitting in as though there were no age difference at all. This was strange because he had to be in his 50s or older! It's tough to judge the age of Thais; I've given up trying. Anywhoo, he was introduced to me as 'Ajarn,' which in Thai means teacher. He was an art teacher at the local high school and had started hanging out with this group of former students. It probably goes without saying that this dude was the absolute coolest shit. He had long White hair, a sparse but lengthy beard and mustache, and he wore a green beanie hat rolled up above his forehead. Also, he had a heckova pair of pants on. All patchwork, mixed up. Definitely cut from the hippie cloth.

We all hung out on the beach sipping beer as the moon spied us from a speckled sky. Around 3am Kori and I began to tire out; our earlier buzz had morphed into a hangover and then back to a buzz again. We swapped cell phone numbers with Ray and bid the group a good night. We'd call them tomorrow.

Saturday I slept till the crack of noon and it felt great. Popped out of bed eager to hit the beach for a solid day of tanning (mission of the week remember). I threw on some swim trunks and stuffed a towel into my bag as Kori asked me if I'd like some of her sun block. "Ha" I said, noting that she obviously hadn't gotten the memo regarding the week's mission. She laughed and proceeded to pack her beach accessories into my bag, forgetting the sun block.

I reckon it took me less than 10 minutes under the mid-day Thai sun to realize what a fool I was to reject Kori's sun block. Coming out of the warm sea I could immediately feel the skin of my shoulders toasting under the cloudless broiler above. I raced to my towel and draped it over my head trying to cover as much of myself as possible. I ransacked my bag in search of the sun block but no use. It was left behind. Kori laughed again, this time with more enthusiasm than before, at the site of me running around, cussing mad out of my mind in search of shade.

I had to find a place to buy some sunscreen and fast. I looked around the beach. To our left was the concert stage where the evening's jazz bands were warming up and doing sound checks. I was running around with a towel over my head yes, but at least there was a soundtrack. I began running away from the stage towards some distant...hotels? Not too far down I darted up some pink cement stairs, grabbed the first white guy I saw by the collar, and hollered something along the lines of, "I'm f-ing frying out there man! I need some juice! Sun block, dammit! Where's the bloody sun block vendor!" (Note: I've picked up some British from my fellow British travelers. I still call 'em French fries though. Chips? Never!) The terrified man calmed me down, "Son, it's ok. You're safe now. You're in a Marriott." I slowly pulled the towel from my head and peered around. Yes. I had made it to the safety of a luxury Marriott resort. But how long until the sun sniffed me out and crisped my bacon, I didn't know. "Follow me," said the tall, slightly obese man in Dutch (?) flavored English. "I shall give you the grand tour." I informed him that I had left the beach in a hurry and I had to get back to my unguarded belongings quickly. He understood and proceeded to give me the abridged tour.

I must say, what a resort! Marriott really knows how to do it. The pool was sparsely populated with retired-aged Europeans. Two young boys, a Thai and a westerner, were frantically running between the water slide and the waterfall spraying each other with whatever they could aim from the gushing falls. I noted how I had failed to find the water slide at my own hostel. Perhaps it was in hiding with the air conditioner? Anyway, I saw an amazing garden and commented on how nice everything looked. He dropped me off at the shop and told the shop attendant that I needed some sun block. She handed me what looked like a free sample of some 30 proof. I accepted it thinking she must be taking pity on me, seeing my red face like this and all. Then before I could thank her, she asked me for 380 baht. '380 baht?!' I thought. To hell with sympathy. They smelt desperation. I contemplated the cost of battling melanoma for a few moments and then, begrudgingly, forked over the cash.

As I made my way back to the beach I took a detour via the water slide figuring they owed me at least that. It was fun and I soaked the young boys with a decent sized splash. Back on the beach I told Kori how amazing the Marriott looked with its well-kept gardens and elaborate swimming pools. She mentioned that our group should stay there on our next trip to Hua Hin. "Sure," I quipped, "you find the treasure map and I'll grab the shovel."

As we lay on the beach a big group of Thai men with their children gathered behind us and began playing football (by football I mean soccer). Kori went to inspect and pretty soon she was a regular member of the team. I took my time watching from the sides but eventually a friendly Thai smile in a Manchester United jersey grabbed my arm and yanked me into the fun. We ran about in the sand till I just about collapsed under a palm tree. After the game the Thai group went about introducing themselves and asking us where we were from and what we thought of Thailand. They were a group of family friends from Bangkok. The men all worked in the same office and they rented a house in Hua Hin for weekend getaways. Hua Hin is to Bangkok what the Hamptons are for New York. Anyways, they gave us some snacks and some drinks before we bid them farewell. The Jazz show was starting soon and I wanted to claim good real estate.

There was plenty of land to grab when we got there at 5. We met up with Kristin and the rest of the group who had spent the day on the other side of the beach getting pedicures by the sea. We spread out my beach mat and started cracking open cans of Heineken as the first musicians made their way to the stage. The band took its cue from the setting sun and began with a jazzed up version "By The Way, a song originally by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Laying back in the sand, looking at the pink clouds hang overhead to the tune of Chili Peppers; was I in heaven? Seemed so. After the song ended I sat up and saw that the beach had filled up significantly. Good thing we got there early.

The crowd was mostly young, yuppie-esk Thai couples. I knew they were at least mildly wealthy by the amount of wine being consumed all around us. Wine is muy expensive here. All the Thai groups and couples with their spread out mats and little picnic set ups; the scene reminded me of Shakespeare in the Commons last year in Boston. Same vibe. Half way through, Kristin and I headed back into the town to dine in that pizza joint I had spotted the night before. Now I was in heaven. The pizza was very authentic and we boxed most of it up and brought it back to the jazz show.

When we got back to the show none other than Steven 'Super' Sessions had found our spot and brought with him, yes, another bottle of Sang Som. Party on. As the show went on, I spotted big, paper lanterns floating up into the sky. I watched them emerge from behind the stage as the wind took them out to sea. They looked like a procession of stars bobbing up and down in the black sky.

The music wrapped up around midnight. We sat around the beach for a while as the crowd cleared out. I called Ray, from the night before, and we met up with him, The Ajarn, and the rest of the crew. They were kicking back with the same familiar cooler of beer. One of them had in his lap a perfectly out of tune guitar while another was bopping away on some bongos. They all joined together in singing some Thai songs. Then they busted out a decent 'Hotel California' (the National Anthem of America, according to many Thais) and they all sang some broken lyrics to that. To my right, a pretty Thai girl who introduced herself to me as Duang, was at work cutting up a pineapple. It was the sweetest tasting pineapple I ever enjoyed. Fresh pineapple and beer, not in Kansas anymore.

Around 2am most of our teacher-group left for the hostel. I was tired but I kept myself motivated by the excitement of what would happen next. It was musical mayhem and I wanted to see it through to the end. So Kori and I partied on. We drank on and on into the night and watched the moon rise over the black water.

As we all loosened, I spied the Heineken inscribed street signs that had been posted on the beach for the festival. Having admired them earlier in the evening I knew it was now time to climb the signposts and grab myself a souvenir. I was determined to get my money's worth from this free outdoor festival. With a little help from my new Thai friends, I was able to scale the sign pole and unscrew the green and white signs. Now everybody in the camp wanted one so we wandered around the festival grounds uprooting posts and plundering what we saw fit for our bedroom walls. With arms full of loot, I made a friendly nod to a passing night guard who returned the gesture in kind. 'Excellent security,' I thought.

We hung out on the beach till the first cracks of sunlight began to appear over the horizon. Ray motioned for us to follow him onto his motorcycle. Kori and I climbed on with him and he took us out to a long dock where we all enjoyed a spectacular sunrise. Watching it, I thought back twelve hours earlier to the sunset I'd witnessed trying to determine if there was a noticeable difference. We watched the sun chase away the moon and then darted straight for our beds to try to grab a few hours of sleep.

I got up around 12. No sign of Kristin or the rest of the group. Went down to the lobby/restaurant and ordered a burger and fries. Staying up all night leaves you feeling like crap the next day. A good breakfast burger will clear your head right up. I finished up and went back to the room to shake Kori outta bed. No sense in getting saddled with a late fee for checking out past our time, which was approaching fast. Kristin rang me just as we were leaving the hostel. She and the rest of the group had set up at the beach; if we wanted to join them, they were just south of the stage. Fearing that more sun exposure might make me crispier than a bucket o' KFC, I opted to go visit Ray at his shop.

Oddly enough, this tattooed, spiky haired, baggy pant wearing, Thai hipster owned and operated his very own beauty salon/spa. Everything from facials to Thai massages. Best of all, it was like a walk-in fridge there. We chilled there (no pun intended) eating various Thai fruits that were handed to us while Ray's friends rotated in and out of the shop in shifts. Finally, we jumped on the back of his bike and he took us to the bus station where we met up with the rest of the group. We said goodbye to our new friends and promised we'd be back. I left Hua Hin very satisfied...but a little disappointed the King had not come out to say hello.

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Photos

Train to Hua Hin
Left to right: Your humble narrator, Kori, Emma

The long train ride
Kristin and Emma en route

Catching up
James (mad looking British man) entertains us with tales of his K1 (5 year olds) class. Sarah next to him.

Looking relaxed
Kristin kicks back and lets the Sang Som work its magic.

Kristin en el mar
The water wasn't as pertty as it was refreshing.

Kiwi Sarah
Sarah sits on the beach, far from her home in New Zealand.

SS Heineken
Ahoy ye matey. These ships may look beached, but when the tide came in that evening, they floated up in the sea for kids to swim about.

Beer and Toilet. All set.
That toilet sign looks great in my room now.

The stage
And the band begins to play...

The crew
Somewhere in there: Me, Kristin, James, Amy, Emma, Sarah, Candida and Kori

Steven 'Super' Sessions
Steve showed up to refuel us. Sang Som in hand.

Our Hua Hin Crew
Ray is on the far left.

My turn
I show the thais there's more to america than hotels in California.

Feet in water
Yeah, Kristin's camera is cool.

Comments

[dad]

great blog
and so well spelled! I'm off to Israel next Sunday. Talk to you soon.

[Uncle Marv]

how you gonna keep 'em down on the farm,,,,
Hi Jordan,,,well I must say have been enjoying your running comments and experiences tremendously,,,but if you remember the old song,, "how you gonna keep 'em down on the farm,,,after they've see Pariee" what will youever do to match these experiences,,once you are home and are working,,,this should not of course discourage you from keep on keeping on...have a ball. Jane and I just returned from a two week car trip from Denver to Las Vegas with loads of National Parks inbetween,,about 2000 miles and great fun,,,we hit Arches, Mesa Verde,,Painted Desert, Petrified Forrest, Sedona,,Grand Canyon,,,Winslow Az (Standin' on a corner in Winslow Arizona, such a fine sight to see,,,its a girl my lord, in a flat bed ford,,slowing down to take a look at me,,,take it easy,,,take it easy,,"(etc) Lake Powell,,,Bryce Park (Utah),,,Zion Park (Utah) and finally four days at the Belliago in Las Vegas Nevada,,,quite an experience,,,and I sent you photos,,hope you were able to open them,,, Keep on drinking (Water) and stay well,,,we certainly miss you very much,,let us know when you will be leaving Thailand and heading for Europe,,,with all our love,,,Uncle Marv and Aunt Jane

[mom]

Hua Hin Weekend
Great blog entry, Jordan. All of your fans certainly appreciate the improved spelling. Did you discover a spellcheck function on travelblog? Did I mention that about 2 months ago the travel section of the NY Times ran an article about Hua Hin? The writer recommended it highly as a beach resort that is not overly crowded and touristy. It sounds like you had a fantastic time. You boarded the train a paleface. And in the picture of you playing guitar, you look burnt to a crisp! Love you, Mom