Bang Saen, Thailand
My new home was a seaside university town … I had just arrived and was settling in. The condo was luxurious by my standards … 10th floor penthouse studio with a balcony overlooking the Gulf of Thailand. 180* view of the sea & nearby islands with a pool, hot tub & all the amenities. I felt guilty really … as I looked over a small fishing fleet & village as well as the market and beach side restaurant where the fishermen sold their daily catch. Excited to explore this unfamiliar place … I set out on foot.
It was early morning and I bounced from the university & its aquarium to the open market for lunch, which was filled with dishes I could neither recognize nor pronounce … followed by a walk along the beach. In the late afternoon, I reached Laem Tan, which (loosely translated) means “lands end”, wherein lies a small mountain named Khao Sam Muk. At its highest point rests a tiny, weathered, hilltop Buddhist temple/shrine that overlooked the entire area I now called home. This little mountain is the romantic setting for a local love story similar to Romeo and Juliet, but with a bittersweet Asian twist. At the time, this love story was lost on me as I could only see the sandstone formations that made Khao Sam Muk so distinctive and unique. Looking through the eyes of a novice rock climber this was going to be an awesome climbing & bouldering playground.
Drunk with excitement I began to forage through the underbrush toward that first rock face but just before exiting the roadside a local fisherman sensing my intent … repeated this warning “Ling Gaht … Ling Gaht!” Now, had I taken the time to learn the language of the country I now called home I would not have dismissed this warning with casual ignorance. But I hadn’t so, off I went through the thicket to the base of that 1st rock face.
I could see from where I stood, at the bottom, that the initial accent would be about 40 feet with various foot & hand holds to the 1st landing … a relatively straight vertical route with no overheads or inverts. I strategically hung my small backpack containing my wallet, passport, journal & etc. in the branches of a tree nearest me so it would be off the ground & I could retrieve it after my climb. The first few feet went slow as the holds and buckets were jagged and I was out of practice but I soon got into a rhythm and began to move more confidently.
Now, throughout the entire day I had seen a few monkeys that I understood lived in and around this area … so I wasn’t surprised to see a few playing in the trees. At first I found them to be cute climbing companions but as I approached that 1st landing … cute became something completely different. You see monkeys, like many animals, live in a hierarchy wherein the largest and most powerful often lead and protect the group and their territory. So the cute little “scouts” (if you will) had apparently warned their protector of my progress & pending arrival … I’ll tell you that this patriarch was not so little or cute … In fact his teeth, which he showed me multiple times, seemed as big & sharp as a combination Rottweiler & Sabre-Toothed Tiger. Luckily, in that moment, I had a good foot & hand hold so there was time to pause & consider my situation … which was exactly this … half a dozen large mad dog looking simians 10ft above me & another half dozen smaller rather excited of their kin below. This reality left only one option … hold fast ?!
So … don’t smile, because showing teeth is an aggressive posture, avoid eye contact for the same reason & look like your retreating even though you have no realistic place to retreat to ? Gratefully, after 10 or 20 minutes of standoff my aggressor & his entourage above began to mellow & lose interest. My attention is now focused downward as this is my only viable escape route from monkey mayhem … because although tensions have lessened nobody seems in a big hurry to leave. In fact, as if looking for something to alleviate their boredom the tormentors below found my backpack & begin exploring.
It becomes apparent that these monkeys are as intelligent as they are curious … So I begin to hope that having cute/tiny hands would prevent them from certain dexterity. This notion was quickly dispelled as I watch two of my child like adversaries unzip my backpack & begin to systematically remove all of its contents. Why my passport & journal were of particular interest I cannot say but it must have had something to do with flavor as chewing & shredding became their new game. Needless to say … the “do nothing … wait them out” approach now has severe ramifications as years of memories, Thai Baht (currency) & most important … essential travel documents are being devoured before my eyes. In a moment of desperation … the decision to surprise & confront is made. So I make a short descent to a reasonable height above the monkey filled tree followed by a leap into the limbs & the fray. The reality of me plummeting into their midst & the chaos of grabbing for branches in an attempt break my free fall sent monkeys shrieking & scrambling for their own safety. In the may lay, my backpack & its contents are thrown to the ground thereby validating my ill-conceived plan of attack & subsequent minor injuries.
Finally on the ground I’m able to collect my belongings & quickly retreat back through the underbrush before the likely counter attack begins … like a scene from “Planet of the Apes”… or in this case “Mountain of Macaque Monkeys.” Of course … as if walking scraped, bruised & bloodied, with my possessions in tatters, past the Thai fisherman, with his “I told you so eyes” wasn’t humiliating enough there is now the realization that this episode was going to require a visit to my nearest US embassy.
Fast forward to weeks later … I enter the embassy in Central Bangkok whereupon the sentry directs me to US passport services & its non-descript waiting room.
Speaker: “serving number 317 @ window #8”
Me: cool that’s me !
Consulate member #1: (in a businesslike manner) “good afternoon … how can we help?”
Me: (cautiously friendly) “good afternoon ma’am … I need a replacement passport & visa”
Consulate member #1: “Lost or damaged ?”
Me: “Damaged”Consulate member #1: “May I see the damaged passport & documents”
Me: (passing the documents thru the window) “Yes ma’am”
Consulate member #1: (perplexed expression) “there is not much left here … how did this happen ?”Me: (a moment of silent contemplation then quietly speaking) “a monkey ate it”
Consulate member #1: (perplexed expression continues) “I’m sorry … again … how did your passport get damaged?”Me: (Speaking slightly louder) “a monkey ate it”Consulate member #1: (blank stare followed by condescending grin) “A … monkey … ate … your … passport … is … that … correct?”Me: “yes ma’am”
Consulate member #1: (continued blank stare followed by mischievous smile) “where did this happen?”
Me: “In Bang Saen @ Khoa Sam Muk”
Consulate member #1: (holding back laughter) “you mean monkey hill @ Laem Tan?”
Me: (sheepish stare) “Ahh well … but ahh … I didn’t know … umm … yeah I guess so ?”
Consulate Member #1: (still holding back laughter) “And how did (long pause) never mind … please wait here”
Consulate Member #1: (disappears into back office area) (muffled voices & laughter are heard)
Consulate Member #1 & 2: (return to window occasionally snickering)
Consulate Member #2: (slides multiple forms thru window) “Mr. Urbasek … please fill out these forms with a full explanation & return to this window”
Me: “yes sir”
30 minutes later: return to window #8
Consulate member #3: (smiling broadly & perusing the paperwork) “please sign & date all pages”
Consulate member #1: (also broadly smiling) “your replacement documentation will be available here in 2 weeks”
Me: “thank you”
2 weeks later @ same passport service office US Embassy Bangkok
Speaker: “serving number 273 @ window #11”
Me: Cool that’s me !Consulate member #1: (in a businesslike manner) “Good afternoon … How can I help ?”Me: “Good afternoon ma’am … I’m here to pick-up my replacement passport & documents”
Consulate member #1: (quizzical look & hesitant voice) “Name & copy of application please”
Me: (pausing momentarily) “Christopher A. Urbasek”Consulate member #1: (deadpan giving to broad smile then shouting) “MONKEY BOY !”
Consulate member #1: (jumps from seat & disappears into back offices) “Hey everyone monkey boy is back !” (a chorus of laughter is heard)
Consulate member #1, 2 & 3: (return to window nearly hysterical) (pass documents through window)
Me: (gathering documents & turning to leave) “Thank you”
Consulate member #1, 2, & 3: (in unison) “NO … Thank You … Monkey Boy!”
Not for nothing … but I often feel a sense of “one upmanship”… as I know of no other traveler that was officially awarded a nickname for a moment in the world of travel blunders. If only this were an isolated incident … take a look for my future blogs where a pattern begins to emerge.