The sun rose over Taipei this morning, while I was still high in the air. Windows on the left of the plane showed a deep red streaked by the charcoal of clouds and in innocent stripe of creamy pale orange draped along the horizon. I’d forgotten that sunrises could be so instantly absolute. Today is here.

I am far from home. Far from what is familiar. Far from the people I love. It’s what I chose. Strange.

Arriving in Bangkok was a simple affair. Called Shamus from the payphone. My money kept running out without giving me a chance to insert more coins. Three calls later, and I had an address. As soon as I neared the exit of the airport, a man in a suit with an ID badge approached me, asking if I needed a taxi. His ID badge said something about airport staff, so I guessed that he was sort of a mobile info desk. I asked what the transportation options were, showing him the address I had written down. He launched into his great deal of a private BMW to deliver me to my destination for a mere 650 baht (roughly $16.50). I was tempted to take the easy way, even though I knew that it was a scam. I didn’t want get dicked over first thing upon arrival, and then have that experience set the tone for the coming days. I told him I’d take my chances outside.

(Lesson #1 – A group of young monks were walking in the marketplace with their teacher, an old and very respected monk. He haggled and haggled with every vendor they visited. They became uncomfortable with this. After some time, one of the young men spoke up. “Teacher, is it moral to haggle in this way?” To which the elder monk replied, “The Buddha urged us to live simply, not to live as simpletons.”)

Opening the door to the outside, I was nearly knocked over by a furnace blast. Hot and humid doesn’t begin to describe what hit me. Guess my fleece jacket is dead weight. Found the taxi stand, inquired about the price and found out it would be about 225 baht to reach my destination. That sounded much more reasonable, so I grabbed a cab and sank back into the air-conditioning. I realized as we got off the highway that the address I written down referred to an intersection and not a residence. Laughed off a moment of panic. Of course, I could always call Shamus again from the corner, so why worry? When we got to the intersection, a guy hopped into the cab and said something to the driver. He turned around to face me and smiled. “Hey. How was your flight?” It was my host, Shamus. Here was a thinking kind of guy.

(Lesson #2 – go with the flow.)