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Authors: Lorraine Ereira

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BOOK: Journey From the Summit
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I must have looked like something the cat dragged in, with tear soaked cheeks and my hair plastered to my head.

 

“Florence!” said my aunty using my full name, followed by, “Oh my dear girl!” as she took in my dishevelled appearance. “What on earth happened?”

All at once, having coped alone in the face of adversity, to have someone offering me support and kindness forced the floodgates open and the tears came unbidden.

Aunty Pattie paid the driver quickly, and thanking him she ushered me inside. She handed me some tissues and put her arms around me.

“It’s okay now, you’re here and you’re safe. I’m going to put the kettle on. You can go and have a nice cooling shower and then you can sit down and tell me everything.” She smiled at me, and for the first time I stopped blubbing and looked at her.

There was something of my dad in her, that much was very apparent. She had such a gentle, calm manner and a soft, cool voice like falling summer rain, taking the heat from my emotional trauma.

Peeling off my clothes I climbed into the cool shower, feeling the water rinse away the sticky, dusty film on my skin. Allowing the water to massage my scalp, I closed my eyes and let me body relax, feeling the relief of being clean and safe at last.

Digging out a relatively clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt, I padded back though to the kitchen where Aunty Pattie had laid out tea and biscuits on the little table.

Looking into my eyes, she gently encouraged me to tell her everything. I started to tell her about what had happened at the bus station and why I had arrived in such a state, to which she explained that the friend she had sent to collect me had mistakenly gone to another bus station and consequently our paths had failed to cross.

I only meant to tell her about this. I had not intended to tell her about Saul. She was Dad’s sister and I hadn’t told my parents because I didn’t want them to have the stress, and didn’t think they would understand. I couldn’t tell her because she might tell them, and also I didn’t know her – she was little more than a stranger to me. But something about her, perhaps it was her kind eyes or her soothing voice, or her reassuring smiles and warm encouragement, made me sit there and, as the light began to fade into evening, tell her everything.

We talked long into the small hours, only stopping while she prepared a simple meal for the two of us. She sat and listened to all the pain and anguish I had been through, and held my hand, dried my tears, and put her arms around me. She even went to the trouble of writing some notes about Saul’s case, telling me that she knew some high court judges in Goa and might be able to speak to someone. She asked why I hadn’t called her sooner, and said she felt sad that I had been in India all those months when I could have turned to her for help. It felt so good to have someone really listen, and after the ordeal I had been through today my emotions were open and raw and in need of some healing kindness.

I was shattered after talking about things that were so sensitive and painful, and after I felt I had told her all I could, I thought I would tell her about my visit to the house, which lifted the mood considerably.  She was pleased I had seen the house that my grandparents had lived in for most of their lives, and met Tadoo.

I felt my body start to sag with exhaustion, from the travelling, the nightmare day, and the spent emotion. It all culminated in leaving me feeling totally wiped out in a way I can barely explain. I can’t remember going to bed that night, or my aunt pulling the sheet over my depleted body.

I must have slept for almost twelve hours straight, too shattered to even have nightmares about the demons that had plagued my day, needing every resting moment to recharge my drained batteries.

When I woke, I wandered into the living room where my aunt sat writing at the table. She looked up and smiled.

“Ah! You’re awake! You look a lot better for that sleep. Do you want some coffee?” she said getting up to put the kettle on. “I thought we could have a little walk today before you go to the airport later, and I could show you around where I live, what do you think?”

“Yes, I would like that vey much,” I said rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from my eyes.

After some breakfast, we wandered from the apartment which was based in a fairly metropolitan location. We meandered through the marketplace, where traders were offering the fresh fruits, spices and dried fish I had become familiar with in the Goan marketplace, but also more commercial products like beads, jewellery, colourful clothes, t-shirts, and postcards. There was poverty here like everywhere else I’d seen, but in the areas my aunt took me there wasn’t the squalor I’d seen in Bombay when I’d arrived in March.

I bought a postcard for Saul and one for my parents, which my aunt said if I wrote she would post for me.

We got back to her place, and after a bite to eat and a quick shower it was time for me to leave. I was really glad I had come to visit my aunt. She had shown me so much compassion, and been very healing for me at a time when I needed it most. Additionally, it was lovely to get to spend some time with her and to know her, in a way I knew I never would if I had not travelled to this part of the world. I enveloped her in a warm embrace, thanking her for taking such good care of me, before getting into the taxi to the airport.

Although my heart ached for Saul, and leaving him here was the last thing I wanted to do, I couldn’t wait to get on a plane and leave India. For me it was a place of darkness, heartache, evil and trepidation.

After a long wait in the airport, I was able to check in.

 

I settled in my seat on board my flight to Bangkok. I sat next to a young Hindu man who chatted happily to me about his life and his simplistic beliefs. He was gentle and very meek, and I felt myself relax in his easy company. I sighed, gazing out the window, and silently saying goodbye to Saul I felt the tears of separation prick my eyes.

We must have been flying for no more than an hour when the young Hindu man I sat next to was passed a handwritten note from a messenger. He looked at me and apologized, saying he had to move seats. Confused, I asked why he was being asked to do this. He explained that someone dominant wanted to exchange seats with him and he had no choice. At first I was puzzled and then I felt alarm bells ringing in my head. This didn’t happen. You were allocated a seat and that was yours for the flight. No one could make you move! He looked at me again, explaining as he vacated his seat that in his culture sometimes there were people you had to listen to, influential gang men who could make your life very uncomfortable at no cost to them. With that he walked away without a backward glance!

A familiar feeling began to claw at my belly. Fear. Something was wrong here, something to do with me.

A few minutes later a large older man, of obvious Indian descent, dressed in a dark suit and bedecked with gold jewellery came and sat in the young man’s seat.

He said nothing to begin with. I put my headphones on and turned away from him, ignoring his presence, blotting him out entirely. A few moments passed and then he said something to me. I didn’t hear what he said and had no intention of trying. He unplugged my earphones from the armrest. I shot him an angry glance, and he smiled.

“I see you are travelling all by yourself to Bangkok,” he stated calmly, smiling. “It is a wonderful city and I know it very well. In fact, I have a beautiful penthouse there. You would be very impressed. I’m inviting you to be my guest. You can stay with me and I will show you all the delights of the city.”

I almost laughed at his despicable audacity, “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you don’t leave me alone, I will call the stewardess!”

“The stewardess?” he said. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

He put his hand over the buzzer so I couldn’t call her. “I noticed you at the airport, and have been watching you ever since. I know you are alone, and I want you to be my guest. I will show you the time of your life! You should know that I always get what I want,” he smiled.

Anger flared in the pit of my stomach. How dare he? How dare destiny throw another tyrant in my path so soon? Well, I was not going to be intimidated again. I didn’t care who he was. This was not my culture, and I was not going to be bullied again.

I turned to him calmly, “I’m afraid you are wrong. Perhaps you have not been watching me as closely as you think you have. I am not travelling alone, I’m with my boyfriend, but we got separated at the airport and have been allocated separate seats as a result.” I scanned the aircraft for a Caucasian man. Destiny must have bowed to my anger, because I could see a fair-haired man sitting alone a few seats ahead. I pointed to him,

“Do you see that guy up there? That’s my boyfriend,” I told the Mafioso-bully.

He smirked at me, very clearly not believing my barefaced lie. I knew I had to act now or become a victim again. Somehow I found the courage to follow through on my words. I stood and, not looking back, very calmly walked down the aisle and slid into the seat next to the blonde man I had spotted.

“Hi, can I ask you a huge favour? Would you mind putting your arm round me? I will explain in a minute,” I said, hoping with every ounce of me that he would comply.

He looked unsurprisingly astonished at my request, and for a few seconds I panicked thinking he may have a girlfriend visiting the bathroom or sitting nearby, but to my relief he obligingly grinned at me and draped his arm around my shoulders.

I turned to him and began to whisper, “Okay, I know this sounds crazy but I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. I’m really sorry and I’m really embarrassed to be doing this, but I wouldn’t if I really didn’t have to. I’m in trouble. A horrible man on the plane is harassing me; he knows I’m travelling alone. I saw you and told him I was with you. Please don’t look round and please don’t be angry,” I gabbled. I prayed that he wasn’t another potential abductor, and that for a while at least I would have some much needed good fortune.

It seemed the gods were feeling sorry for me. He was a really lovely Aussie guy, named Jamie, travelling alone from Bombay to Bangkok. He thought my idea was ingenious and praised me for my quick thinking. Little did he know that my bravery was born of my incredulous fury that I was again the victim of a male culture that thought women could be treated however men damn well pleased.

When I look back at that whole episode of my trip, at both of those atrocious men and how they behaved towards me and probably other women like me, I realized that if I hadn’t had the first experience and got through it, my reaction to the second would not have been so brave or resourceful. Knowing too how influential the mafia-man had been, and the fact that he had minions on the flight with him, made me appreciate that had I not reacted how I did I would not have escaped. Sometimes life throws things at you to teach you a lesson and equip you with a set of tools with which to deal with something else much bigger and more challenging.

I know I was followed off that flight and into the baggage reclaim. I was followed through customs and out of the airport right up until I climbed into a taxi in Bangkok. I knew this would happen, and I felt eyes on me, willing me to be alone. Jamie was a true hero, staying with me, carrying my bags, playing the dutiful boyfriend. We shared a cab to the same destination. Luckily most people who backpack headed to the same place, so he wasn’t changing his plans at all, just accommodating mine, to be my protector and my friend.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

We arrived back in the Kao Shan Road, where Cathy and I had stayed on our trip before we went to India. It was the place everyone headed when they arrived in Bangkok, and was almost like a general checkpoint before heading off anywhere else. The road itself was full of bars, restaurants and cheap guesthouses. It was late in the evening so we both checked into the same guesthouse. I had never been anywhere alone, so I was glad that Jamie didn’t decide to leave me at that point, especially after all I had been through – I needed a friend.

After a very welcome cool shower I crashed out for the night in the simple, sparsely furnished room I was sharing with a German girl. I was so exhausted I was barely aware of her presence as she moved around the tiny room. I fell into a deep empty sleep, and when I woke the next day she had already checked out. I lay on my bed and for the first time allowed myself to evoke the events of the past couple of days from my journey from Goa to Thailand.

I knew that I had been lucky. There are so many wretched stories of both girls and boys who go travelling and have ordeals that they never live to tell tales of. I was alive. I was unharmed. I would see my family, my friends and most of all Saul, again. I knew that if Saul found out what I had been through he would somehow find a way to blame himself for not being there to take care of me, or for being the reason I was in those situations in the first place. I wouldn’t let him know what happened until we were together again.

I had learnt a cruel lesson about the differences in our cultures. Indian men saw Western women as fair game. I later found out that there was an actual term for this – ‘eve-teasing’. It is called this because Eve, of Adam and Eve, was seen as a temptress of man, and as such the reason for his weakness. However, this somewhat quaint term does not in any way justify or excuse the treatment by men of women, which is, fundamentally, sexual harassment and, in many cases, results in rape. I shuddered to think what might have happened to me if fortune had not taken pity on me and saved me from those evil men.

A gentle knock on the door disturbed my evaluation of these incidents, and I was relieved to be brought back to the present, as dwelling on them was bringing back the horror of both. I pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt and pulled the door open. Jamie stood outside.

“Have you eaten yet? I was gonna go and find some brekkie, and wondered if you fancied some too?”

At the mention of food I realized I was ravenous! I grabbed my valuables, and we went in search of sustenance.

Sitting in a street bar, eating a very authentic breakfast of egg fried noodles followed by fresh fruit, Jamie asked me what my plans were while I was in Thailand. Most of the travellers headed south to the islands in search of more beach parties, but that was the very last thing I wanted to do.

“I want to go north to the Golden Triangle,” I told him decisively. “I know it’s not where most people want to go, but I really want to visit the Mekong River that separates Thailand, Burma and Laos.”

I wanted somewhere I could go and not be plagued by locals who were only interested in tourists. Somewhere peaceful, away from the parties and the drugs, where I could gather myself together before I flew home in a little over a week’s time. In addition, I had my little business plan too – to buy Thai charms to take home to sell in England to at least begin to pay off the debt to my parents.

Jamie smiled. He was clearly impressed by my plans. He only had a few days here and thought my idea sounded great. He asked if I would like some company.

Then he looked down shyly, “if you would rather travel alone I totally understand, just that you sound like you know exactly what you want, and I hadn’t thought about it till now, but that actually sounds really cool.”

I laughed. I thought it was an excellent plan – I had planned to go alone but to tell the truth I was a little nervous, especially after my experiences in India, so this seemed like a much better way to accomplish my mission.

“Do you know what? I would love some company! If you don’t have any other plans, I think it would be great if you came with me,” I smiled at him.

So it was all set. We spent the day collecting the money my parents had wired through, booking a bus, and planning our trip.

The next evening, we set off on the long bus journey to Chiang Mai, the largest and most culturally significant city in northern Thailand. I slept most of the way as we were travelling at night, so there wasn’t much to see. We arrived in the early hours of the next day, and checked in to a guesthouse.

After a few hours of proper sleep and a quick shower, we set off to find a motorbike to share for rent. As Jamie was now travelling with me, I decided to take advantage of his offer to drive, as my bike -driving experience was limited to the little TVS in Goa, and he rode bikes back home. This seemed like the best way to travel further north to the Golden Triangle, so we could take our time and enjoy the journey.

This took the best part of the day to organize, and once we had sorted this out we wandered around Chang Mei for a while. The city is much smaller and sleepier than Bangkok. Although there are many of the same types of eating places and street markets, somehow it lacked the buzz and excitement that the capital offered. In many ways it was nice to be somewhere slower and more chilled, and for me at least it suited my mood. A small city with a rural backdrop, it made me feel as though we were at the gateway to a part of Thailand that I longed for - somewhere I was headed to re-charge my depleted batteries and find some peace in myself, away from the party goers, and beach-bums.

Eventaully we found a traditional Thai-style restaurant to have dinner in where we sat on cushions on the floor while sipping ginger tea. After relaxing here for a while we found a night market. I was captivated by the beautiful silks and fineries that adorned the stalls and enjoyed the sounds friendly bartering that resulted in the sales of the merchandise. The balmy night air was alive with people shopping, trading, and meandering through rows and rows of colourful wares.

The next morning we got up early and set off for the small town of Mae Sai, which lies right on the border of Thailand and Burma. The road that took us north was lush and green. It wound and twisted up into the mountains. The sun beat down on us for the long five-hour ride, and we were thankful for the little roadside shacks selling cool drinks and fresh fruit along the way.

Finally, we arrived in Mae Sai. We climbed up to an ensemble of unusual dwellings that constituted a guesthouse in the hills. It consisted of little bamboo huts all built on stilts with windy stone paths connecting each one. It was built on the banks of the Mae Sai River, with Burma on the other side. The river was so narrow we could see the Burmese people bathing in the waters.

The people of northern Thailand were even more enchanting than those we had met in the south. They greeted us with such warmth that we felt like we were coming to stay with family. As I felt myself begin to relax in the peace and serenity that this place offered, I knew I had made the right decision to come here. All the trauma and stress of the past few months melted away as I breathed in the sweet fragrant air of the Mae Sai everglades. But as I felt my spirits lift and my tensions ease, I could not help but wish Saul were here to experience all this with me. I was so grateful for Jamie’s honest friendship and knew that this journey would have been much harder, if not impossible, without him, but I would have given everything I had to have Saul here in his place. One day, I vowed to myself, I would return here with Saul, and then I would truly appreciate all that I was experiencing without my underlying eternal ache.

The next day we made our trip to the Golden Triangle. The Mekong and Ruak River form a junction where they merge, and here is the magical point where Thailand, Burma and Laos all meet. To be able to stand and feel the cultures from three different countries meet and merge with each other was an experience I would always remember.

As you may imagine, it was a natural tourist attraction so there were many craft shops in little huts along the river’s edge. I bought gifts for my family and presents for Saul. I found bangles and belts and scarves to take home and sell. On the outskirts of the triangle were villages where you could buy opium. The area was well known and famous for this drug and people came from far and wide to deal in it.

I went to bed that night in my own little hut on stilts listening to the gentle sound of the rippling river, and felt a huge wrench for Saul. I felt as though I was experiencing something very special here in this mystical place and it felt so wrong without him. Ironically, the magic of the Golden Triangle had only served to highlight the separation I felt from Saul, and in this respect I couldn’t wait to leave.

 

We arrived back in Bangkok in the very early hours of Thursday morning. Nothing was open and we were hungry. We waited while we watched the road that had become like a home to us in this country slowly come to life. Shutters opened, shopkeepers swept their shop fronts. The smell of cooking rice and fragrant spices told us we wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

Today was Jamie’s last day before he flew home to Australia. We talked about our trip, and about the brief but intense friendship we had. He had saved me from impending danger, been my companion and my escort. He knew about the magnitude of my love for Saul, and had listened as I spent hours pouring my heart out to him. I would never forget him, and will always look upon meeting him as one of the luckiest episodes of my trip and perhaps even my life.

 

After Jamie left, I found myself alone once more. Somehow, in Thailand, even after my frightening ordeals, I didn’t feel the vulnerability I had known in India. The people here were charming and kind. Even the vagrants here didn’t hound you like they did in India. Extreme poverty was still rife here, but instead of aggressively crowding you, and evoking irritation instead of sympathy, those who were destitute walked around trying to sell small items like packets of tissues for a few baht. However lowly they were, at least they were trying to make an honest living. My heart really went out to these people; they had good grace, manners and dignity even when they had nothing.

As I sat and watched the world go by, I recognized a face in the throng. A guy called Dave whom I’d known in Goa was walking into the bar where I sat. I called his name, happy to see a face I knew. He embraced me, equally pleased to see me, and joined me for a drink. We sat and compared travel notes and he asked all about Saul and what was happening with his case. He said he had met up with someone I may like to meet – Jess, the girl who had pretended to be Saul’s girlfriend was here in Bangkok! I felt a frisson of excitement bubble through me. To meet her and be able to thank her for what she did for Saul would be wonderful. We arranged to meet later that evening in another bar not far from there, and he would bring Jess with him.

I was really excited. I felt so far away from Goa and Saul, and somehow this meeting seemed to bring it and him unexpectedly closer.

 

The evening came round quickly and I made my way to the bar to meet Dave and Jess. Dave was already there when I arrived and had a peculiar look on his face. I asked if everything was okay, and he told me he’d thought it would funny to wind Jess up by telling her I was angry that she’d pretended to be Saul’s girlfriend, and the reason I wanted to see her was to tell her off! My first thought was that she probably wouldn’t want to come now. I certainly was cross now, but with Dave for being so insensitive. I mean, no one would be likely to willingly meet someone who they thought was going to be angry with them, and I’d been so pleased to have the chance to meet her, too! I glared at Dave, suddenly wishing I hadn’t run into him, if he was now going to disappoint me after promising me something I’d really looked forward to.

Imagine my surprise, then, when a pretty blonde girl walked in looking around nervously, and was greeted by Dave. He called her over and she turned to me anxiously. I stood up and threw my arms around her, which I think shocked her more than ever. I was so relieved that she’d come, and not been put off by Dave’s silly prank, that I didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries or to tell her that anger was in fact the last thing I felt.

She stood back from me and looked at me in confusion. I could see that she was waiting for me to say something, as she was clearly at a loss for words. Dave stood up and said he would leave us to chat, as he was sure we had lots to say, and left us with a mischievous grin on his face.

After she was reassured that I was anything but angry, we began to talk. I told her how grateful I was to her for helping Saul, and she said that she’d been intrigued by the thought of meeting me, as Saul had told her how special I was to him. We talked for hours: first at the bar, and then back at her guesthouse; we chattered well into the small hours.

Later that night I fell asleep feeling a sense of connection to Saul, and joy that I had met someone like Jess.

For the next couple of days Jess and I were inseparable. We seemed to connect not only because of Saul, but as friends too. We shopped, went clubbing, ate, drank, and most of all we talked. In many ways I felt sad that tomorrow would be my last day in Thailand and I would be heading home.

 

The friendships I had made on my travels were very different from those I had at home. In some ways they were like holiday romances, where you felt every aspect of the bond with great intensity. You were away from home, away from your security, which made you more susceptible and more open to the tendrils of comradeship; the hands that reached out to you when you felt vulnerable. You had only brief moments with these friends in circumstances that were challenging as opposed to years to build a relationship in the security of your everyday life.

BOOK: Journey From the Summit
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