Ghosts – The story of El Mago, chapter 8

We got off the metro at Petchaburi Station and started walking on Asok Montri road towards The Eugenia. It was a road of heavy traffic and dense smog, yet when we passed by a small open-air market the air filled with the distinct smell of grilled chicken and decaying food.

“It smells like Thailand!” El Mago said excitedly.

“Yes, like rotten food,” I responded without a quote of cynicism.

El Mago found this very amusing. “That is the way you talk about this land, which has hosted you with so much affection!” he joked.

The truth is that there are many markets around Thailand where one can buy raw and cooked food and the smells mix. And, where fresh meats are sold without the use of refrigeration at a constant summer temperature, it stinks. The juices of chicken, pork and fish drain from the tables onto the ground and rot throughout the day. The smell is somewhat covered by the succulent aroma of grilled meats, mainly chicken. Even as a vegetarian, I liked the smell of roasted flesh and burning charcoal, which briefly brought me back to my childhood.

We walked passed a university campus and sought in vain for a street to turn left. We were almost at the next metro station when we finally found it. We became disoriented. El Mago used the GPS in his phone and after a long time of walking and retracing our steps at a quiet neighborhood we found The Eugenia. It was an unusual building in that part of the world, as if it should have been in some British colonial city. They received us warmly and had us sit on a couch, then handed us chilled coconuts. Our eyes danced on everything at that magical place. Each item looked old yet really well kept, and we felt as if we had traveled back in time. They guided us to our room, which was enchanting. The floors were covered by thick rustic wooden boards and there was a box bed with delicate white curtains. In the bathroom there was an iron bathtub with separate faucets for the cold and hot water.

Unfortunately, there was not time to enjoy this wonderful place. The Phantom of the Opera was starting in a couple of hours and we still had to eat lunch and get ready. Quickly we walked downstairs and were stopped by a vision: in the next floor, a window let the white sunlight of the late afternoon fill in the space. It was beyond beautiful.

We had Indian food (one of the pleasures of being in Bangkok) around the corner from The Eugenia and came back to sit by the pool, which was green and surrounded by plants and looked like a pond. El Mago smoked and I impatiently waited.

I was so excited to wear my new beautiful dress. I showered in the charming and uncomfortable bathtub and quickly got ready. El Mago took his time. When he was almost ready he noticed that he had forgotten his socks, so he resolved to wear his flip-flops. 

Contrary to couples that have been together for enough time to dress alike, we did not match at all. While I wore my lace black dress and heals, he wore brown jeans and an open shirt over an under shirt –with the flip flops. I guessed that dressing down for a special evening like that was one of his ways of pushing me away. He had been more careful about his clothes the time we had gone to the movies, the night of his confession.

We rode the luxurious tuk tuk from The Eugenia to the MRT station. In our way there a strong wind from an imminent storm blew dirt around and when it calmed down it started to pour. We ran the few meters from the tuk tuk to the station but still got drenched.

After months of living in a semi-developed island where the biggest entertainment was a visit to the shopping mall, coming in a theater hall full of people was extremely exciting. It was an uncommon event, even for Bangkok. The famous musical, The Phantom of the Opera, made it from the Western World and so many people had wanted to see it that additional functions had to be offered.

The plot was allegoric to our own story. A phantom fell in love with a young woman but she would not love him back, despite all his efforts. He felt sorry for himself, then angry, and finally resigned. All the songs touched my heart. I wondered if El Mago felt identified with any part of the drama.

When we left the theater it was not raining any longer. We took the metro back to the area of the hotel and walked around to find a place to eat dinner. It was not easy for either of us to find food we would eat. We compromised to sit at a bar and order salads. The bar was on the corner of one of the roads to perdition in the Sukkhumvit area.  I was not too hungry. Right before sitting El Mago had brought up again the implicit non-exclusivity clause of our relationship. I felt exhausted. However, dinner ended on a good note and we went for a walk on this street to experience a different kind of cultural activity. Lovely creatures wearing very little; men selling apparently useless items (oversized teddy bears and fruit baskets); moms begging with their babies; foreigners filled with excitement; music, smoke, alcohol, lights, voices, laughs, everything entangled along one short block.

We sat at an outdoor table of one of the bars and El Mago ordered shots of a licorice flavored drink that felt like fire going through the throat. At one point, El Mago had to use the toilet inside. He came back with his eyes wide open and the funniest expression. The vision of about a dozen naked women dancing on the bar had shocked him. He had seen more exposed vaginas at once than he had probably seen in his whole life.

We changed bars and had more shots. A creature of the night in small clothing and big fake eyelashes came to talk to us. We both flirted with her. The lights, the music and our words blurred together into a haze of nonsense. Only one thing was true: being with him.

Then we stumbled a few blocks and found The Eugenia. And the iron bathtub. And the canopy bed of soft linen.

On Sunday, after a night of bad sleep and a good coffee we paid a second visit together to Jatujak Market. It was hotter than the previous time and the hangover did not make it any easier… Still, we managed to walk around and buy a couple of things. An hour before I had to go to the airport we sat at the Jatujak Park, right by the lake. We were not returning to the island together because El Mago had decided to stay a couple more days. I did not want to go.

Staying at beautiful The Eugenia inspired him and he told me, “We both have similar ideas about what we want to do; someday we should do something together. Maybe a hotel. But it will be strict business. Do not create false ideas in your mind”.

I asked him to hug me and he quickly acceded, but it was like hugging an armored man. He was sand filtering through my fingers.

People lounged in the sun by the lake, chatting with friends, buying food for the pigeons and enjoying the passing Sunday afternoon. We were ten thousand miles away from our native land, and yet the picture was so familiar.