Travel is incredible. And eye-opening. And life-changing. And sometimes, it sucks. 

I hit one of those lulls in Thailand. But first, let me clarify: my time in Thailand was absolutely amazing. I met some awesome people, many of whom I’m still in touch with. I ate delicious dishes on the daily. I went to colorful markets where everything was super cheap. What’s not to love? 

But, I was tired. No, I was exhausted. Approaching five months of travel, I had just thrown out all of the cultural capital I’d built up on one continent to shake things up again on another. And even though Thailand is probably the most tourist-friendly country in the region, it was still overwhelming to me. 

So, I became a bad tourist. 

Tongue-tied in Thailand

Let’s start with language. I’ve never exactly been a language person, but in South America, I made it work. I could order food, ask for directions, and have simple conversations with my cab or uber drivers (they were usually trapped in a car with me for at least 20 minutes, so had no choice but to chit chat with yours truly). I was able to practice and improve—and I appreciated the countries I visited so much more because I could read signs and understand at least *some* locals. 

Southeast Asia was a different story. It’s not like anyone expected me to learn Thai. But I couldn’t even say names of places. All the islands started with “Koh.” Koh Lanta. Koh Lipe. Koh Phi Phi. Koh Phangan. For the first half of my trip, I couldn’t remember which was which. People would ask, “Oh, what islands do you plan on visiting?!” My response: “Errmmm, ‘Koh’ something?!” Solid. I also struggled to use basic phrases (with the exception of “mai pet,” which I nailed pretty quickly, since it means “not spicy.”). In Thai, “Kap koon kah” (phonetic) means “thank you.” For the life of me, I could not get the order of the words right. Buy a ticket for the ferry: “Kah kap koon!” Order mango sticky rice: “Koon kah kap!” Ask for information at the temple: “Kap kah koon!” I started purposely laughing every time I attempted the phrase to indicate to locals that at least I KNEW that I had no idea what I was saying. Thankfully, they seemed to think my ”thank yous” were endearing. 

Buddha, buddha, buddha, buddha, buddha rocking everywhere

Now, let’s talk religion. In Thailand, I visited roughly 837 million temples. That’s just an estimate. I’m sure the real number was far higher. Temples in Southeast Asia are like churches in Italy. Ornate, insanely beautiful, and absolutely everywhere. At first, I was all about the temples. I took pictures of each intricately carved column and golden Buddha sculpture (and let me tell you, there were a lot). But after a while, they all began to blend together, and I started getting, well, bored. As temple fatigue set in, any desire to learn went out. During my visit, I learned next to nothing about Buddhism … even though I visited hundreds of holy sites. Four Noble Truths? Eightfold Path? It’s actually easier to count all the things I don’t know about Buddhism than all the things I do. 

A white, Western playground

Finally, let’s discuss stereotypes. The ”traveler demographic” in Thailand is a lot different than South America. Because it has a stronger tourist infrastructure and since everything is so inexpensive there, Southeast Asia (and Thailand, in particular) is a great place to try out backpacking for the first time. The environment is teeming with young European teens and twenty-somethings fresh out of high school and college. Untethered to the real world and unleashed from any actual responsibilities, these kids––and yes, they’re basically kids––weren’t always on the same page as me. They wanted to drink. Smoke. Party. Repeat. And hey, I don’t have a problem with that … except that I just couldn’t keep up. 

Nor did I really want to. In Pai, I stayed at a hostel that, at times, almost felt like a commune. Everyone I spoke to had recommended it. The facilities were new, the activities were fantastic (by day, the hostel planned motorbike trips; by night, there was always an opportunity to booze), and most people were decently friendly. But there was a cliquey-ness to the place. A lot of the staff seemed like ex-frat boys trying to escape life back home. Most of the guests could be found lounging around on bean bags for the majority of the day. Were these really my people? Luckily, I had already cultivated a group of older-twenties / early-thirties buddies in Bangkok and Chiang Mai who became real friends. But trying to keep up with the other cool kids ended up setting me back. One 4 a.m. night and 8+ drinks later, I was looking just like everyone else in the bean bag chairs. I slept the whole day and ultimately ended up getting sick a week later. In that moment, I was just another wild, Western, white tourist. Not my best look. 

It’s all relative 

At the end of the day, I didn’t make any egregious mistakes in Thailand. But during the month I spent there, I was less curious. Less proactive. Less engaged. And I guess … that’s okay. Every traveler is a student of the world. But we can’t get top honors all the time. In Thailand, my performance was maybe a B- … but, thankfully, I still had an A+ time 😊