"Good child, but that's pretty much all of the sins you committed for a while worth talking about, isn't it?"
"Yes. Will you still listen to my tale?"
"Tell me about three more days and then we're done for a while. I've got two baptisms and one funeral to give today."
"God help us all."
A Day of Combat - Friday 19th July
Although I had trained in Charn Chai's the day before, I woke up eager for more training at Team Quest. With a few days off, a little bit of drinking in between, the heat and the humidity, my stamina was embarrassing. One thing I fear is that hard training can be so easily undone by a few nights drinking. What if after a month of hard training I celebrate my time in Thailand or my return home with a session and find myself completely out of shape again? It doesn't bare thinking about.
I took a shower and went to headed off on the scooter to find a phone repair shop to replace the battery in the second-hand iPhone 3 which I purchased a week before. This came to about 600 baht (12 pounds) which seemed quite a lot, but I was utterly unable to barter for a cheaper price. I presume a Thai person could have, as the batteries themselves are only a few pounds on Ebay and the repair job only took around ten minutes, but that's just the way the cookie crumbled.
I returned back to camp afterwards for another training session, another shower, another rest and some grub had me prepared for the night's activities: I was going to the Muay Thai event in which some of the Charn Chai guys from Pai were competing in. There are two different Muay Thai "arenas" within the night bazaar district. One, the Loi Kroh is in the center of some sex-pat run bars, the other which I was looking for - the Kalare Stadium is a little bit harder to find, but if there are fights going on in it, you'll be given directions by ticket sellers and other various fight promoters. The two arenas very rarely run events on the same night as a clash would lead to confusion and unnecessary cock-blocking of profits. When I got to the Kalare Stadium, there I was given a reduced price for being part of the Charn Chai group. I think it was 100 baht less, bringing it from 400 baht to 300 baht, but I can't be sure. It could well have been 300 baht to 200, but who the fuck cares? At the end of the day I paid around five pounds sterling to watch six or so Muay Thai fights. The poster for the event depicted the headline fight, an international match up with an Irish Nak Muay (MT fighter) going up against a local. Fights with international fighters supposedly bring in a big draw of tourists, wanting to see just how brutal a beating the Thai will lay down upon the typically Caucasian fighter. When I met Mr Bee and a few of those who were training at the gym the day prior, I showed the fella from Cork the flyer for the fights, showing him that there was an Irish guy set to fight.
"No, that's Mick from Dublin! He fought here about two months ago and they obviously never took him off the flyer! He's going to love that! Did you not meet him yesterday?" he asked.
I had, but the thumbnail picture didn't jog my memory enough to realize I'd met the fighter previously. Oops.
We sat near the ring, on fold up chairs. I was unusually thirsty that night and drank only an obscene amount of water, the others drank small cans of beer, purchased out of ice-filled eskies. The fights were reasonably fast paced, most of them ended in knock out in the third or fourth round. Commentary was delivered in well spoken English. The first few fights were young boys fighting and this is something that I have a big problem with. Yes, it's a different culture and things are different here, but this is something I don't have to like. I don't like seeing kids under the age of sixteen kick the piss out of each other and yet it's something you'll see at many Muay Thai events. I say this not because I'm not impressed by the abilities and agility of these young fighters but because of the damage they're doing before they're even teenagers. These kids are trained from a very young age and are put to work as pro-fighters by their families, communities and gyms not long after. They're getting hit with so many shots to the head when the brain is in a crucial period of development. Furthermore, these kids are often taken out of school and given little chance to develop other skills other than Muay Thai. Few will become champions and hit the big time. Others will coast for years, fighting once or twice a month until their bodies or brains are burnt out. Those that burn out might be lucky enough to get a pad holder at a well paid gym. Many others end up tuk-tuk drivers, which might explain why you find so many scammers amongst the ranks of the scooter-taxi drivers. The sad fact is, these are typically working class kids that have families depending on their fight purse. Yet so many of them are seen as competitors in a human cock-fighting competition; they are little more than objects that you can gamble on.
Now before you ask "Isn't it the same in most combat sports?", I need to stop you. In the west, boxers, MMA fighters and Nak Muays generally all have a chance to choose what they want to do in life. Famous footballer Wayne Rooney was a notably good boxer when he was at the age he began playing football professionally. He had the choice of what sport to play and whether or not he wanted to play it professionally.
In the end though, it's just one of those sad facts of life. In the west we are wealthy and there are generally speaking, far less brain endangering careers we can get into, regardless of social standing. Western fighters, with all our wealth can choose another path in life if we decide we don't want to risk our brains and good looks for a moment of glory and a tiny fight purse. I see myself as only doing this for fun, something that I will give up by my mid-30s to prevent any long term damage or early onset arthiritis. Many of the Thai fighters are done by their mid-20s because they've already had 200 fights under their belt. I don't like it, but I'm not sufficiently roused by it to protest for the rights of these children. I'm not even bothered enough to boycott paying for the sporting events in which these kids are made to work. I only grumble from the comfortable arm chair of an internet cafe. Here's an article on the subject if you want to read more:
http://www.forbes.com/sites/morganhartley/2013/06/10/the-brutal-business-of-child-boxing-in-thailand/
I took a shower and went to headed off on the scooter to find a phone repair shop to replace the battery in the second-hand iPhone 3 which I purchased a week before. This came to about 600 baht (12 pounds) which seemed quite a lot, but I was utterly unable to barter for a cheaper price. I presume a Thai person could have, as the batteries themselves are only a few pounds on Ebay and the repair job only took around ten minutes, but that's just the way the cookie crumbled.
I returned back to camp afterwards for another training session, another shower, another rest and some grub had me prepared for the night's activities: I was going to the Muay Thai event in which some of the Charn Chai guys from Pai were competing in. There are two different Muay Thai "arenas" within the night bazaar district. One, the Loi Kroh is in the center of some sex-pat run bars, the other which I was looking for - the Kalare Stadium is a little bit harder to find, but if there are fights going on in it, you'll be given directions by ticket sellers and other various fight promoters. The two arenas very rarely run events on the same night as a clash would lead to confusion and unnecessary cock-blocking of profits. When I got to the Kalare Stadium, there I was given a reduced price for being part of the Charn Chai group. I think it was 100 baht less, bringing it from 400 baht to 300 baht, but I can't be sure. It could well have been 300 baht to 200, but who the fuck cares? At the end of the day I paid around five pounds sterling to watch six or so Muay Thai fights. The poster for the event depicted the headline fight, an international match up with an Irish Nak Muay (MT fighter) going up against a local. Fights with international fighters supposedly bring in a big draw of tourists, wanting to see just how brutal a beating the Thai will lay down upon the typically Caucasian fighter. When I met Mr Bee and a few of those who were training at the gym the day prior, I showed the fella from Cork the flyer for the fights, showing him that there was an Irish guy set to fight.
"No, that's Mick from Dublin! He fought here about two months ago and they obviously never took him off the flyer! He's going to love that! Did you not meet him yesterday?" he asked.
I had, but the thumbnail picture didn't jog my memory enough to realize I'd met the fighter previously. Oops.
We sat near the ring, on fold up chairs. I was unusually thirsty that night and drank only an obscene amount of water, the others drank small cans of beer, purchased out of ice-filled eskies. The fights were reasonably fast paced, most of them ended in knock out in the third or fourth round. Commentary was delivered in well spoken English. The first few fights were young boys fighting and this is something that I have a big problem with. Yes, it's a different culture and things are different here, but this is something I don't have to like. I don't like seeing kids under the age of sixteen kick the piss out of each other and yet it's something you'll see at many Muay Thai events. I say this not because I'm not impressed by the abilities and agility of these young fighters but because of the damage they're doing before they're even teenagers. These kids are trained from a very young age and are put to work as pro-fighters by their families, communities and gyms not long after. They're getting hit with so many shots to the head when the brain is in a crucial period of development. Furthermore, these kids are often taken out of school and given little chance to develop other skills other than Muay Thai. Few will become champions and hit the big time. Others will coast for years, fighting once or twice a month until their bodies or brains are burnt out. Those that burn out might be lucky enough to get a pad holder at a well paid gym. Many others end up tuk-tuk drivers, which might explain why you find so many scammers amongst the ranks of the scooter-taxi drivers. The sad fact is, these are typically working class kids that have families depending on their fight purse. Yet so many of them are seen as competitors in a human cock-fighting competition; they are little more than objects that you can gamble on.
Now before you ask "Isn't it the same in most combat sports?", I need to stop you. In the west, boxers, MMA fighters and Nak Muays generally all have a chance to choose what they want to do in life. Famous footballer Wayne Rooney was a notably good boxer when he was at the age he began playing football professionally. He had the choice of what sport to play and whether or not he wanted to play it professionally.
In the end though, it's just one of those sad facts of life. In the west we are wealthy and there are generally speaking, far less brain endangering careers we can get into, regardless of social standing. Western fighters, with all our wealth can choose another path in life if we decide we don't want to risk our brains and good looks for a moment of glory and a tiny fight purse. I see myself as only doing this for fun, something that I will give up by my mid-30s to prevent any long term damage or early onset arthiritis. Many of the Thai fighters are done by their mid-20s because they've already had 200 fights under their belt. I don't like it, but I'm not sufficiently roused by it to protest for the rights of these children. I'm not even bothered enough to boycott paying for the sporting events in which these kids are made to work. I only grumble from the comfortable arm chair of an internet cafe. Here's an article on the subject if you want to read more:
http://www.forbes.com/sites/morganhartley/2013/06/10/the-brutal-business-of-child-boxing-in-thailand/
What I do like to see, for entirely different reasons are young women fighting. No, I don't enjoy watching two chicks fight because I get aroused by two chicks going at it - I don't no matter how pretty they might be. This isn't mud wrestling, this is the deadly science of eight limbs - the most brutal stand up fighting sport ever devised. I appreciate this because it's still fairly new for women to compete in the sport. From the mid 1970s there were "unofficial bans" on female combatants going at it in major rings, but seeing as many women still trained, things started to change. As of the mid nineties, it has become much more acceptable for women to fight. The feminist in me wants women to be allowed to fight, if they choose to do so. Sadly, I know that just like the male fighters, many of the women will be forced by their communities to step into the fight world for money. For those women, who are denied the reins of their own destiny it becomes yet another form of prostitution. Life is hard.
http://www.womenkickboxing.com/womeninthailand.htm
On the fight card there were two female fights. The first was very interesting as one of the girls was butch and masculine in her appearance complete with buzz cut, the other was extremely effeminate, looking somewhat like Chun-Li from Street Fighter II with longer pig tails.
http://www.womenkickboxing.com/womeninthailand.htm
On the fight card there were two female fights. The first was very interesting as one of the girls was butch and masculine in her appearance complete with buzz cut, the other was extremely effeminate, looking somewhat like Chun-Li from Street Fighter II with longer pig tails.
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Having grown up watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and playing Tomb Raider, I love it when a girl can kick ass. Not to drag up celebrity nonsense but I'd have loved if Rihanna had been trained in Muay Thai when that talentless hack Chris Brown went to strike her, in a perfect world she would have taken him apart (please note by saying this I'm not wanting to get into any rape culture debate - I don't believe woman should HAVE to learn martial arts simply to deal with abusive boyfriends/rapists, there is no excuse for the man's behaviour in these situations but I wish a cruel fate upon any of these men and I'd be especially happy if more women could dish out punishment on their potential abusers). When this Chun-Li look alike girl stopped her opponent, I was pretty happy. She'd fought with a rawness, a strong passion to every blow she threw.
The second female fight which followed immediately after this one with one of the Charn-Chai fighters, a strong, thin and wiry girl who took the fight to her opponent and secured the win by round four (I think, though it may actually have been a decision). The last fight of the night was one of the Charn Chai guys who was supposed to be fighting in the 65 kg weight category, which I suspected was what he weighed. His opponent on the other hand, was definitely much heavier than this, dwarfing him in not just height but muscle density too. Despite the size difference, the smaller fighter embarrassed the colossus. For one round. After this, the brute realized he needed to actually pick up his game and fight. This fight ended after the bigger lad threw a push kick into the Charn Chai fighter's solar plexus, dropping him to the ground.
"The judges have seen enough and the blue fighter is just too big," the commentator revealed.
I later asked one of the Charn Chai coaches about the weight mismatch, surely there had been a weigh in on the day before the fight?
"No, in Thailand that doesn't happen, we just write the weights of the fighters down on paper."
Maybe I could get a fight at 50 kg. That would seem fair. No, you're right, the Thai kid would probably still knock my bollocks in.
The Charn Chai coaches seemed to have a good connection with the Chai Yai coaches, who had trained me about a week before. They took pictures of the crew of supporters who had shown up to see Mr Bee's fighters throw down.
I said my goodbyes to the crew and headed back to my lodgings in Team Quest. I had my own training to engage in the next day.
The second female fight which followed immediately after this one with one of the Charn-Chai fighters, a strong, thin and wiry girl who took the fight to her opponent and secured the win by round four (I think, though it may actually have been a decision). The last fight of the night was one of the Charn Chai guys who was supposed to be fighting in the 65 kg weight category, which I suspected was what he weighed. His opponent on the other hand, was definitely much heavier than this, dwarfing him in not just height but muscle density too. Despite the size difference, the smaller fighter embarrassed the colossus. For one round. After this, the brute realized he needed to actually pick up his game and fight. This fight ended after the bigger lad threw a push kick into the Charn Chai fighter's solar plexus, dropping him to the ground.
"The judges have seen enough and the blue fighter is just too big," the commentator revealed.
I later asked one of the Charn Chai coaches about the weight mismatch, surely there had been a weigh in on the day before the fight?
"No, in Thailand that doesn't happen, we just write the weights of the fighters down on paper."
Maybe I could get a fight at 50 kg. That would seem fair. No, you're right, the Thai kid would probably still knock my bollocks in.
The Charn Chai coaches seemed to have a good connection with the Chai Yai coaches, who had trained me about a week before. They took pictures of the crew of supporters who had shown up to see Mr Bee's fighters throw down.
I said my goodbyes to the crew and headed back to my lodgings in Team Quest. I had my own training to engage in the next day.
Ants and Journeymen - Saturday 20th July
I woke up on time for training but the right side of my body and hip area seemed to be covered in bite marks. They weren't the elevated bumps of mosquito bites, nor did they provide any pain or irritation. My nails weren't drawn to scratch them. I'd had a few the morning before but ignored them but there were a lot more this time. I went to the office to bring this to the attention of the camp managers. We decided quickly that the bites weren't bed bugs. For a start they didn't follow the straight tracks of regular bed bugs. Second of all the mattresses were so new that the polythene covers were still wrapped tightly around them. We figured that they must be ant bites, ants which had crawled through the wire mesh underneath the windows of the bungalows. Ants are everywhere in Thailand and even my apartment now often has them crawling around. There are a few things you can do to prevent them infesting your abode. One is to keep your residence clean. Between Brassy, Machete and myself we'd left a significant amount of food rubbish around the room, we'd need to do a clean up after training. The second thing you can do is to lay down some poison for the little buggers. So to reiterate, this wasn't the fault of the camp itself, rather A) us young men being messy bastards and B) nature. Fuck nature. Anyone who's lived in Spain will know that cockroaches are a fact of life and you have to take precautions there to get rid of them, just as much as you'll need to handle your insect problem in Thailand.
I decided was going to be my last day at Team Quest before I headed south. This was completely unrelated to the ant problem. I'd come to Asia not solely to train, but to travel too. I wasn't closing the door for good on TQ either and was more than prepared to come back to it. If I found a gym more suited to me elsewhere, it'd be the last day at Team Quest in general, but I liked Chiang Mai and I liked the MMA gym set up Team Quest offered. I also liked the majority of my coaches and fellow gym goers.
I woke up on time for training but the right side of my body and hip area seemed to be covered in bite marks. They weren't the elevated bumps of mosquito bites, nor did they provide any pain or irritation. My nails weren't drawn to scratch them. I'd had a few the morning before but ignored them but there were a lot more this time. I went to the office to bring this to the attention of the camp managers. We decided quickly that the bites weren't bed bugs. For a start they didn't follow the straight tracks of regular bed bugs. Second of all the mattresses were so new that the polythene covers were still wrapped tightly around them. We figured that they must be ant bites, ants which had crawled through the wire mesh underneath the windows of the bungalows. Ants are everywhere in Thailand and even my apartment now often has them crawling around. There are a few things you can do to prevent them infesting your abode. One is to keep your residence clean. Between Brassy, Machete and myself we'd left a significant amount of food rubbish around the room, we'd need to do a clean up after training. The second thing you can do is to lay down some poison for the little buggers. So to reiterate, this wasn't the fault of the camp itself, rather A) us young men being messy bastards and B) nature. Fuck nature. Anyone who's lived in Spain will know that cockroaches are a fact of life and you have to take precautions there to get rid of them, just as much as you'll need to handle your insect problem in Thailand.
I decided was going to be my last day at Team Quest before I headed south. This was completely unrelated to the ant problem. I'd come to Asia not solely to train, but to travel too. I wasn't closing the door for good on TQ either and was more than prepared to come back to it. If I found a gym more suited to me elsewhere, it'd be the last day at Team Quest in general, but I liked Chiang Mai and I liked the MMA gym set up Team Quest offered. I also liked the majority of my coaches and fellow gym goers.
Following the morning class, Brassy and I teamed up to sort out the mess in the room and sweep the floor. There were four beds in the room and prior to the ant bites, I'd been sleeping in the bed closest to the window. I decided to up and move to the second closest one. If the ants still found a way to get through after the powder had been laid out for them, they were going to have to work to have any flesh off of my stomach.
There was the predictable downtime required to rest the body after hard exercise. Eating, lying down, re-hydrating, reading, watching crap online. I've read that training in Muay Thai camps feels like living in a limbo between totally energetic and totally drained at all times. It's not hard to motivate yourself for training once you're doing it, but before and after it you're stuck feeling almost devoid of energy. Sparring probably adds to this, if you're taking a lot of hard head-shots, you may have a few more headaches than usual; take a lot of hard shots to the torso mean that your body may need time to shake off those bruises. Brassy dished out a few hard body shots in the afternoon session, taking me out of the game for a bit after a stiff sternum shot and a gut punch. If you take one of these when you're breathing in, it's going to knock the wind out of you. I'm not that well versed on the trick of breathing out just as it's about to hit you, so surprise surprise this very thing happened.
There was the predictable downtime required to rest the body after hard exercise. Eating, lying down, re-hydrating, reading, watching crap online. I've read that training in Muay Thai camps feels like living in a limbo between totally energetic and totally drained at all times. It's not hard to motivate yourself for training once you're doing it, but before and after it you're stuck feeling almost devoid of energy. Sparring probably adds to this, if you're taking a lot of hard head-shots, you may have a few more headaches than usual; take a lot of hard shots to the torso mean that your body may need time to shake off those bruises. Brassy dished out a few hard body shots in the afternoon session, taking me out of the game for a bit after a stiff sternum shot and a gut punch. If you take one of these when you're breathing in, it's going to knock the wind out of you. I'm not that well versed on the trick of breathing out just as it's about to hit you, so surprise surprise this very thing happened.
Sadly I don't have a video to show you of the beating Brassy dealt me. A Chinese girl who seemed to have attended the camp with her boyfriend had filmed our bout. Up until a certain point I was holding my own but a few slip ups had me looking like the amateur I am. I took to lying down on the matts just outside of the ring straight after the spar and talked briefly to the girl, joking with her about the video. I said to her something like
"I'd almost ask you to send me that video if I didn't fall over twice," I joked.
At this point she asked where I was from and said my accent was really nice to listen to. She didn't stop there with the compliments though, suddenly she was finding my eyes extremely beautiful, the bluest she'd ever seen. She became almost insistent about sending me the video via e-mail or Facebook. I told her just to post it on the Team Quest Facebook page. I was flattered but I decided to assume this was just a cultural thing. I've been told Chinese people are typically honest with their compliments and their criticisms, meaning that this was less of a "come on" than just a general appreciation. I hoped this was the case anyway, seeing as we believed she was travelling with her boyfriend, at least she was travelling with a guy from China.
She never posted the video though and we didn't exchange details, so I'll not be posting the beat down I received at the hands of the Brass man.
Being that it was a Saturday night, there were more fights due to be seen and one of our boys was headlining the card. Mass, the American wrestling coach who had I'd eaten with a few times was due to have his first Muay Thai fight. He was going up against a Thai guy, who had fought another one of the TQ guys only a few days prior and was put away early by a heavy knee to the chest. Brassy, Machete and I headed off to grab dinner in a typical Thai restaurant, then to the sex-pat bar ridden night bazaar, where the fights were taking place in a central ring. We checked on Mass before his fight, seeing him get the busted up 10 oz gloves taped up around his wrists. He wasn't the slightest bit nervous, he just wanted to get out there. I know I'd be nervous as all hell if it was me but perhaps his previous MMA experiences had mentally conditioned him for the experience. He also knew he was going up against a tomato can, who didn't have the same desire to win as he did.
In boxing, there is a term for a fighter who has been fighting for years but has never really "made it". These "journey men" often have a decent level of skill, learned from their wisened experience but no longer have any belief they will become champions. These particular types are looking for a little bit of extra cash on the side and getting 2500 baht a fight isn't a bad deal, whether they win or lose. Typically Muay Thai judging is quite racist. If you're a westerner going up against a Thai guy, you need to win the fight by stoppage, regardless of how well you've done or how many points you think you may have scored, the fight will almost always be scored against you. This means that the Thai fighters can fight conservatively, throw a few combinations and leg kicks here and there with the intent of surviving their five rounds to secure the win. As a farang you need to take the frame of mind as is encouraged in the slogan over the Octagon on The Ultimate Fighter TV show - "Never leave it in the hands of the judges". Brutality is encouraged. This was something Mass was prepared to deliver. As Brassy and I sat drinking beers from our ringside seats, Mass took his Thai opponent apart with well timed hand combinations. In the second round of his fight he stepped to the side and threw a stiff right cross directly to his opponent's chin. The Asian man crumpled to the canvas, still grinning a grin as he rolled on the floor of the ring, waiting for his ten second count out to end.
In between the various rounds, we were "treated" to a comedy act, where three out of shape old Thai fighters were blindfolded and sent up against each other. As you can guess they were just swinging big slaps against each other and occasionally hitting the referee. It was funny for a moment, before I realized how these guys were just other journeymen, long past their prime looking to scrape together a few bucks from the rounds of the audience they did post this spectacle. I just felt this clown act was just a little bit too demeaning for men that probably carried a lot of pride in the way they fought in the ring. Perhaps it's not the only thing they do in life and perhaps they see things differently but there's something almost medieval about watching these clowns act the fool.
We waited for Mass to get showered and changed after his fight, then watched as he collected his 2500 baht prize for the fight, which he gave a cut of to one of his trainers. He was slightly disappointed in his bout, initially wanting to play more with his opponent, he decided to finish it after the other fighter threw some heavy leg kicks. When he was receiving his pay out, he was told that the Thai had felt his jaw move on the impact of the heavy blow thrown by Mass and decided it wasn't in his interests to keep the fight going, seeing as he'd had his jaw broken before and didn't want a repeat performance. After that, it was time to take off. There was a little bit of confusion as to who was going where. Some of the other TQ guys were headed to another bar at the other side of town but Brassy wanted to catch up with some of his French friends first. Seeing as we had to wait for a few people who ended up just going back to the camp, it became too late to follow the other TQ guys, so with Machete on the back of my bike, we followed Brassy, firstly to a guesthouse, then to the Zoe in Yellow bar area to meet les amis.
We chatted here and there with the French guys and to some random girls. I didn't get a feel that there were any who were game for a one night stand, so I didn't push my luck too much. Perhaps I could have worked harder for something but really, unless a woman was ready to jump into bed with me then and there, I wasn't bothering to make an effort. This might raise two questions - firstly, can't you go out without thinking about getting laid? Secondly, how come you're so inept at it? Well, I do love getting laid but yes, I can have a night on the town without trying with any girls and to be honest, I think I talk myself out of more situations than I could. Sometimes I need to get drunk not for the obvious boost, but to try and let my id run my decision making processes. Anyway, as I was having little more than friendly conversations with attractive young women, Machete was getting approached by a cute curly haired African-French girl who gave him the best pick up line I've ever heard from a woman
"Has anyone ever told you you look like Obama?"
I had to back away from their conversation and just laugh as discreetly as I could, it had really tickled me.
When Zoe's closed, there was the option of Spicy again. Brassy wasn't interested in the shit-show that was Spicy, so he decided to head back to camp. Machete and I thought we'd try our hand a little bit more with whatever cute girls we'd find in the club but nothing much came about it. He arranged a date with his French girl and then we headed back. When the club closed we called it a night. Seeing as I'd had a fair few beers and a considerable amount of rum poured down my throat, I let Machete take the reins of the motorized steed. He'd only had a couple of Leos and was more than capable of getting us back to base.
"I'd almost ask you to send me that video if I didn't fall over twice," I joked.
At this point she asked where I was from and said my accent was really nice to listen to. She didn't stop there with the compliments though, suddenly she was finding my eyes extremely beautiful, the bluest she'd ever seen. She became almost insistent about sending me the video via e-mail or Facebook. I told her just to post it on the Team Quest Facebook page. I was flattered but I decided to assume this was just a cultural thing. I've been told Chinese people are typically honest with their compliments and their criticisms, meaning that this was less of a "come on" than just a general appreciation. I hoped this was the case anyway, seeing as we believed she was travelling with her boyfriend, at least she was travelling with a guy from China.
She never posted the video though and we didn't exchange details, so I'll not be posting the beat down I received at the hands of the Brass man.
Being that it was a Saturday night, there were more fights due to be seen and one of our boys was headlining the card. Mass, the American wrestling coach who had I'd eaten with a few times was due to have his first Muay Thai fight. He was going up against a Thai guy, who had fought another one of the TQ guys only a few days prior and was put away early by a heavy knee to the chest. Brassy, Machete and I headed off to grab dinner in a typical Thai restaurant, then to the sex-pat bar ridden night bazaar, where the fights were taking place in a central ring. We checked on Mass before his fight, seeing him get the busted up 10 oz gloves taped up around his wrists. He wasn't the slightest bit nervous, he just wanted to get out there. I know I'd be nervous as all hell if it was me but perhaps his previous MMA experiences had mentally conditioned him for the experience. He also knew he was going up against a tomato can, who didn't have the same desire to win as he did.
In boxing, there is a term for a fighter who has been fighting for years but has never really "made it". These "journey men" often have a decent level of skill, learned from their wisened experience but no longer have any belief they will become champions. These particular types are looking for a little bit of extra cash on the side and getting 2500 baht a fight isn't a bad deal, whether they win or lose. Typically Muay Thai judging is quite racist. If you're a westerner going up against a Thai guy, you need to win the fight by stoppage, regardless of how well you've done or how many points you think you may have scored, the fight will almost always be scored against you. This means that the Thai fighters can fight conservatively, throw a few combinations and leg kicks here and there with the intent of surviving their five rounds to secure the win. As a farang you need to take the frame of mind as is encouraged in the slogan over the Octagon on The Ultimate Fighter TV show - "Never leave it in the hands of the judges". Brutality is encouraged. This was something Mass was prepared to deliver. As Brassy and I sat drinking beers from our ringside seats, Mass took his Thai opponent apart with well timed hand combinations. In the second round of his fight he stepped to the side and threw a stiff right cross directly to his opponent's chin. The Asian man crumpled to the canvas, still grinning a grin as he rolled on the floor of the ring, waiting for his ten second count out to end.
In between the various rounds, we were "treated" to a comedy act, where three out of shape old Thai fighters were blindfolded and sent up against each other. As you can guess they were just swinging big slaps against each other and occasionally hitting the referee. It was funny for a moment, before I realized how these guys were just other journeymen, long past their prime looking to scrape together a few bucks from the rounds of the audience they did post this spectacle. I just felt this clown act was just a little bit too demeaning for men that probably carried a lot of pride in the way they fought in the ring. Perhaps it's not the only thing they do in life and perhaps they see things differently but there's something almost medieval about watching these clowns act the fool.
We waited for Mass to get showered and changed after his fight, then watched as he collected his 2500 baht prize for the fight, which he gave a cut of to one of his trainers. He was slightly disappointed in his bout, initially wanting to play more with his opponent, he decided to finish it after the other fighter threw some heavy leg kicks. When he was receiving his pay out, he was told that the Thai had felt his jaw move on the impact of the heavy blow thrown by Mass and decided it wasn't in his interests to keep the fight going, seeing as he'd had his jaw broken before and didn't want a repeat performance. After that, it was time to take off. There was a little bit of confusion as to who was going where. Some of the other TQ guys were headed to another bar at the other side of town but Brassy wanted to catch up with some of his French friends first. Seeing as we had to wait for a few people who ended up just going back to the camp, it became too late to follow the other TQ guys, so with Machete on the back of my bike, we followed Brassy, firstly to a guesthouse, then to the Zoe in Yellow bar area to meet les amis.
We chatted here and there with the French guys and to some random girls. I didn't get a feel that there were any who were game for a one night stand, so I didn't push my luck too much. Perhaps I could have worked harder for something but really, unless a woman was ready to jump into bed with me then and there, I wasn't bothering to make an effort. This might raise two questions - firstly, can't you go out without thinking about getting laid? Secondly, how come you're so inept at it? Well, I do love getting laid but yes, I can have a night on the town without trying with any girls and to be honest, I think I talk myself out of more situations than I could. Sometimes I need to get drunk not for the obvious boost, but to try and let my id run my decision making processes. Anyway, as I was having little more than friendly conversations with attractive young women, Machete was getting approached by a cute curly haired African-French girl who gave him the best pick up line I've ever heard from a woman
"Has anyone ever told you you look like Obama?"
I had to back away from their conversation and just laugh as discreetly as I could, it had really tickled me.
When Zoe's closed, there was the option of Spicy again. Brassy wasn't interested in the shit-show that was Spicy, so he decided to head back to camp. Machete and I thought we'd try our hand a little bit more with whatever cute girls we'd find in the club but nothing much came about it. He arranged a date with his French girl and then we headed back. When the club closed we called it a night. Seeing as I'd had a fair few beers and a considerable amount of rum poured down my throat, I let Machete take the reins of the motorized steed. He'd only had a couple of Leos and was more than capable of getting us back to base.
Faces of Authority - Sunday 21st July
What can I say about that Sunday? Not too much. In the morning, Sabri and I went into Chiang Mai city center for a breakfast of burgers and to leave my scooter off to the rental shop. On the way there Brassy got pulled over by traffic cops for committing the heinous crime of driving a few inches over the stop line when the lights signalled red. Of course, he was stopped whilst other Thai scooter drivers shot straight through past the Thai cop. I had stopped behind Brassy and was waved on when the lights turned green, so I pulled over at a point and waited for him to appear.
For his misdemeanour, they had kidnapped his license and demanded a ransom of 500 baht. The obvious racism didn't go unnoticed, but there was little he could do. He'd have to go to the police station the next day with the money or consider cancelling his French driving license. To make things worse the corrupt pig wished him "Bon vacance" after the conversation ended.
I had my own fee to pay when we got to the scooter rental shop. This however was fair, I'd incurred a charge for the extra days that I had used the scooter whilst travelling up north. The middle aged ladyboy didn't notice any scratches on the bike that may have been etched into the chassis of the bike after the slip I had on the way to Pai. After that, I hopped on the back of Sabri's bike and we got back to the camp. I was finally able to retire the "Robocop" helmet which had annoyed me since I first put it on a week before. May I never have to wear that clumsy thing ever again.
Back at camp I got on my the Skyscanner app and looked at flights from Bangkok to Phuket. Phuket is an island off the East coast off of Thailand but it's so large and connected by a bridge from the mainland that one could almost call it a peninsula. It's well known for having a town full of westerner friendly MMA camps but I felt a draw to it not solely for the training. During my time in the mountaneous region of Vietnam known as Sapa I met two Italian girls, one whom I felt some connection with but never made a move on, they were both at Phuket and invited me to join them. I booked a late morning flight for around 1000 baht. This meant I had to get a bus that evening from CM to BKK. Not a big deal. I packed my bags and said my goodbyes to a lot of those training in the camp, giving Mass a valium for him to cut up and snort later - he'd not only managed to get drunk the night before but had gulped down half a bottle of Jameson's with a German girl he'd picked up post fight and the tranquiler was a welcome comfort. I also wished farewell to Brassy who I may go and work with in the French Alps in January 2015.
In the evening time I trudged to the main road with the 17 kg rucksack on my back and looked to hail a tuk-tuk or a songthaew (tuk-tuk bus) to the bus station and after trying a few different ticket desks got a ticket for around 440 baht. It was a "VIP" bus, meaning that it had fewer seats and additional legroom. I had to wait around half an hour, during which time I worked on the now lost notes of this blog. Although I bought some water and some nuts to stave off thirst and hunger, a female member of the bus's team came round soon after the bus left the station. Roughly midway through the journey we were pulled over and underwent an inspection given to us by Thai military. I had to show an officer my passport and was asked to state my business in the country, but he was actually pretty friendly, taking an interest in my travel movements and wishing me an enjoyable time in the country. This didn't have the sarcastic ring to it that the cop's words to Brassy had only a few hours earlier did.
The bus showed a couple of Thai movies but irritatingly there were no subtitles for western chumps like myself. They also turned the lights on the bus down way too early so I couldn't scribble into my notebook for too long or read Freakonomics like I'd planned. In response to this issue, I gulped down three valiums, probably not that good an idea after two days of relatively hard sparring, but I was determined to get to sleep, a task made pretty difficult by my long legs. That had some effect on the next day, that's for sure...
Next - BKK (again) and the beginning of the Island Hopping
What can I say about that Sunday? Not too much. In the morning, Sabri and I went into Chiang Mai city center for a breakfast of burgers and to leave my scooter off to the rental shop. On the way there Brassy got pulled over by traffic cops for committing the heinous crime of driving a few inches over the stop line when the lights signalled red. Of course, he was stopped whilst other Thai scooter drivers shot straight through past the Thai cop. I had stopped behind Brassy and was waved on when the lights turned green, so I pulled over at a point and waited for him to appear.
For his misdemeanour, they had kidnapped his license and demanded a ransom of 500 baht. The obvious racism didn't go unnoticed, but there was little he could do. He'd have to go to the police station the next day with the money or consider cancelling his French driving license. To make things worse the corrupt pig wished him "Bon vacance" after the conversation ended.
I had my own fee to pay when we got to the scooter rental shop. This however was fair, I'd incurred a charge for the extra days that I had used the scooter whilst travelling up north. The middle aged ladyboy didn't notice any scratches on the bike that may have been etched into the chassis of the bike after the slip I had on the way to Pai. After that, I hopped on the back of Sabri's bike and we got back to the camp. I was finally able to retire the "Robocop" helmet which had annoyed me since I first put it on a week before. May I never have to wear that clumsy thing ever again.
Back at camp I got on my the Skyscanner app and looked at flights from Bangkok to Phuket. Phuket is an island off the East coast off of Thailand but it's so large and connected by a bridge from the mainland that one could almost call it a peninsula. It's well known for having a town full of westerner friendly MMA camps but I felt a draw to it not solely for the training. During my time in the mountaneous region of Vietnam known as Sapa I met two Italian girls, one whom I felt some connection with but never made a move on, they were both at Phuket and invited me to join them. I booked a late morning flight for around 1000 baht. This meant I had to get a bus that evening from CM to BKK. Not a big deal. I packed my bags and said my goodbyes to a lot of those training in the camp, giving Mass a valium for him to cut up and snort later - he'd not only managed to get drunk the night before but had gulped down half a bottle of Jameson's with a German girl he'd picked up post fight and the tranquiler was a welcome comfort. I also wished farewell to Brassy who I may go and work with in the French Alps in January 2015.
In the evening time I trudged to the main road with the 17 kg rucksack on my back and looked to hail a tuk-tuk or a songthaew (tuk-tuk bus) to the bus station and after trying a few different ticket desks got a ticket for around 440 baht. It was a "VIP" bus, meaning that it had fewer seats and additional legroom. I had to wait around half an hour, during which time I worked on the now lost notes of this blog. Although I bought some water and some nuts to stave off thirst and hunger, a female member of the bus's team came round soon after the bus left the station. Roughly midway through the journey we were pulled over and underwent an inspection given to us by Thai military. I had to show an officer my passport and was asked to state my business in the country, but he was actually pretty friendly, taking an interest in my travel movements and wishing me an enjoyable time in the country. This didn't have the sarcastic ring to it that the cop's words to Brassy had only a few hours earlier did.
The bus showed a couple of Thai movies but irritatingly there were no subtitles for western chumps like myself. They also turned the lights on the bus down way too early so I couldn't scribble into my notebook for too long or read Freakonomics like I'd planned. In response to this issue, I gulped down three valiums, probably not that good an idea after two days of relatively hard sparring, but I was determined to get to sleep, a task made pretty difficult by my long legs. That had some effect on the next day, that's for sure...
Next - BKK (again) and the beginning of the Island Hopping
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