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Published: August 6th 2007
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Various cooked chicken parts were piled high on the street vendors’ makeshift stands near Lhumpinee Boxing Stadium. As we pushed our way through the crowd of locals frantically chattering amongst themselves, I took a rough inventory of the anatomical display and was sure we could Frankenstein together a whole bird with the sewing kit in our room. Gina grimaced and inquired, “Who the hell eats this shit?”
We continued on through the morass and finally spotted the dilapidated arena tucked back from the main drag. Prior to coming to Thailand, we had been advised that a
must- see activity is the national sport, Muay Thai. The mixed martial art, similar to kick boxing, is notoriously violent and fast-paced. Gina and I had first sought out matches in Phuket, but were cautioned by a fellow airplane passenger that the events in the tourist laden area are staged. Delaying our gratification until Bangkok, we inquired with the concierge upon check-in where we could watch a Muay Thai match. To our surprise, the hotel was located less than a kilometer from one of the two major arenas in Bangkok and matches were being held that night.
Less than a block from the
arena, Gina and I were approached by a sketchy looking Thai who inquired, “You want to see Muay Thai?” Suspecting a scam, I politely declined and we continued on towards Lhumpinee only to be barraged by a number of other ticket agents over the next 100 meters. Within sight of the box office, we could see signs advertising 2000 Baht VIP Seats and 1500 Baht standard seats. Yet another agent approached and solicited, “Muay Thai tonight?”
“How much?” we questioned.
“2000 Baht ringside, 1500 Baht in the back,” he answered, holding out a placard with pictures of the two vantage points.
Acknowledging that his prices matched those posted in the box office, our suspicion eased and we began discussing the options. Concluding that we would likely only visit Thailand this one time, we decided to pull-out-the-stops. 4000 Baht ($120 USD) later, seats were held in our name for the 8:30PM - Midnight event, featuring 9 bouts.
Having two hours to kill until the big event, we decided to wander down the road towards a night market for dinner, hoping not to encounter more chicken parts. Luckily, we found a cluster of restaurants at the market’s center
and proceeded to scour the menu pictures as we couldn’t read the Thai descriptions. We finally opted for Italian, partially sold on its simplicity and partially on the maître de who greeted us like a slick used car salesman.
Gina removed Frog from her coat and placed him adjacent to her plate on our outdoor table. The waitress, who spoke maybe 10 words of English, immediately approached and said, “Frog?”
Gina replied, smiling from ear-to-ear, “Yes, Frog.”
Frog seemed to like the attention too. We didn’t waste any time ordering our meal, a plate of gnocchi, proscuitto and melon, and a bottle of house wine. The waitress disappeared and returned a few minutes later with our carafe. I didn’t even have to taste the wine - the smell was that putrid. I tried to explain the situation, pantomiming and using simple phrases before the woman removed the carafe and retreated inside the restaurant. Witnessing the situation, the maître de approached our table and asked, “What was the problem?” with well-practiced English.
Gina grinned as I started to explain the situation. The maître de laughed in understanding and apologized, “We don’t drink much wine here in Thailand.”
At about this time, the waitress reemerged with two others in tow and a handful of wine bottles. Obviously, they didn’t comprehend that I meant the carafe was a spoiled bottle and must have thought we just didn’t like it. Trying not to grow embarrassed, I picked a bottle the woman was holding and tried to reassure her we weren’t mad.
The meal concluded with twenty minutes to spare and we hurried back towards our earlier rendezvous point with the ticket agent. As we dashed back towards the arena, I caught a shape hugging the wall adjacent to the sidewalk - it was a rat. “Gina, it’s coming at you,” I shouted. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t understand. “Babe, it’s coming right at your foot,” I reiterated. Still not changing trajectory, Gina turned and looked at me in confusion. “Rat! The rat’s coming right at you,” I finally announced, all subtlety removed from my voice.
In the blink of an eye, Gina had removed the danger of the oncoming rat by propelling herself into the street and replaced it with an amateur game of Frogger. “Get out of the street,” I yelled while flailing my arms
wildly as traffic approached. Adrenaline pumping, she thrust herself back onto the sidewalk and looked at me dumbfounded. “What the f*ck was that?” she inquired.
After calming her down, we continued our walk to the arena. Arriving with ten minutes to spare, we mixed with the crowd gathering outside the gates - tourists appeared to outnumber locals, 2:1. The minutes passed and we grew nervous as the agent failed to reappear. We exchanged nervous laughter before a familiar face pushed his way through the mob and motioned us through a metal detector. In a very disorganized manner, he lead us to our seats and wished us a good evening.
Over the course of the next 4 hours, Gina and I watched as the opponents advanced to the ring, exchanged bows and began praying at various locations. First, they prayed in the middle of the ring, then at each of the 4 corners and, finally, with their coaches - all to the background of what seemed like snake charming music. The matches commenced, each opponent gyrating to the snake charmer music between blows to one another, with one bout ending in a starry-eyed knockout.
Completely satisfied by our
night-on-the-town, we decided to add another notch to our belts and risked taking a 3-wheeled Tuk Tuk home. 60 baht later, Gina and I were seated in the death trap whisking through traffic and silently praying for our safe arrival back at the hotel. White-knuckled and out of breath, we settled into bed, happy to be alive.
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krankberg
non-member comment
kick him in the jimmy
I laughed out loud with this one. You needed to take the bullet and stomp that rat! I'm glad you got to see some Muay Thai, that stuff is awsome. Next time get in the ring and show them the Sawyer kick to the groin move.