Yes but Stan, is everything going well in your life then? Eh… No, absolutely not.
When I wake up, the cleaner comes up to me. His name is Chaat. We have a good connection and we’re always joking and laughing together. This morning is different. He tells me he started late today. I ask why. He explains that his sister died in a scooter accident here on the island. The brakes of the scooter broke while they were riding downhill and they crashed into a rock.
Terrible. An older, vulnerable woman around 60 years old who was sitting on the back of the scooter behind her son and landed badly during the fall. The son was injured but okay. It shocks me, and at the same time I try to put things into perspective and observe how mourning happens here. The cleaner is family of the hostel owner, so the grieving happens together and in harmony because they are automatically surrounded by family. You can feel that. There is no big drama. The day continues they try to go on, eat, laugh and go through it. They embrace death with many ceremonies in their temple and there isn’t much talking about it. The rituals are simply followed. Of course there’s little I can do, except offer support, talk a bit, and ask how he’s doing. It makes you realize how quickly and fatally life can end because of something as simple as a scooter ride.
Chaat, the cleaner, had invited me before to visit his piece of land so he could show me what he has there. After I shared some mango and fruit with him, once he even gave me a bag of fruit from his land. Now this feels like the right moment to go with him to the land he’s so proud of and takes such good care of. A bit of distraction for him, of course in his grieving.
Chaat smiles from ear to ear on his land, wandering around his water management system and happily spraying water over his crops. I ask what grows where, and he shows me: banana trees, mango trees, rambutan, and coconut trees. Those last ones catch my interest. We walk to the lowest tree and he says: “You can climb, like monkey? Grab one.”
Of course my ego is too big for that and I think: I’ll do that easily. And just like always, climbing up is easier than coming down. I climb up, knock a coconut loose, and then I try to get down. I slip. My elbow and leg scrape along the right side of the coconut tree and I land with my foot directly on a grown-out stump next to the tree. Smack. A hole in my foot. I immediately see this is not good. It’s fleshy and open. When I grab my foot and look closely at the wound, it honestly feels like a dice could fit in there in terms of size. Then the blood starts pouring and pouring out and there’s only one option, go to the hospital.
Calmly I follow Chaat on the scooter and I ask myself why this had to happen… But only time will tell you to understand that in hindsight, so there’s no point thinking about it too much now. Maybe I just needed a reminder to keep both feet on the ground… God knows.
At the hospital I’m helped quickly. Even though I’m insured, I’m consciously sharp about the bill and the treatment they suggest. I quickly make it clear what I want to cross off the list: no wheelchair, no X-ray, no medication, and no daily wound care. The wound is cleaned and I get a stitch and a bandage. By now Supa has also arrived. Unasked, he immediately drove here when I told him about my accident, and to me that feels like a real confirmation of friendship, someone showing up without being asked, offering help and attention.
I limp outside as my feet is a bit numb and as I pass the other hospital beds I realize how happy and grateful I am that my injury is so small compared to how much worse it could have been. Nothing broken, no serious condition, just an accident. SHIT HAPPENS.
The pain is manageable and I’m forced to slow down a bit. Take it easy, shower with a plastic bag around the foot, and clean the wound carefully every day. No beach, no long walks, no waterfalls. So I stay around the hostel and do slightly less adventurous things. I go out for dinner with the hostel family — a traditional Thai BBQ. I hang out in a board game café with Supa and drink the occasional smoothie here and there. Supa is a real foodie by the way — he loves good food everywhere we go. In that sense we’re cut from the same cloth. Food is and remains the best way to get to know the culture of a country. Despite the bandage on my foot, food becomes the highlight of my day. From foot to Food. My “excursion” of the day is a short ride to the fruit stand to get a bag of delicious fresh fruit. I share some fruit with people from the hostel and automatically you meet people when you simply give something away.
That’s how I meet two young gems: 19-year-olds Noya and Talya. Both strong characters, pure personalities, lots of jokes, humor, fully enjoying life, always laughing. This is the top of the iceberg. And ofcourse, those tip can only be beautiful if you have also experienced quite. They have big plans. One wants to study neuropsychology in Italy and the other wants to open an orphanage in South America. Unlocking their potential and go for it, that’s what I feel will get them very far in life. Intelligent girls who now live in Portugal with Israeli roots. For their age they have an incredible depth and in some ways they inspire me with the way they think. I feel grateful that I attract people like this. Every morning they make their own breakfast and every single time it’s a huge mess: bags of muesli, yogurt, fruit, raisins, dried mango — everything dumped, sliced or thrown into a bowl. Like a little theatre performance for me, I enjoy their morning ritual every day. It reminds me so much of my sister who feels closer to me from afar. I laugh with Noyski and Taly every morning and these two girls are not ones I’ll forget.
Because I’m spending a lot of time around the hostel, I also have more time with the family there and I ask them with genuine attention about their mourning process and how they deal with it. In that way I build a bond with them, which feels quite unique. Meanwhile my wound heals, and after a few days I even remove the stitch myself with tweezers and a toothpick. My own way.
It works. And no dramatic infections if you do it carefully. The rest of the days are filled with good food, a BBQ, a board game, a small walk, and to finish it all off one last party at Bambu. The days pass by. Because my foot forced me to stay a bit longer, I decide to adjust my plans slightly. I’ll go with Supa. He needs to go to Bangkok to renew his US passport and a Thai childhood friend of his is visiting from the US as well. So I decide to go to Bangkok with him and close this chapter of Koh Phangan.
This island felt like home and I feel I’ll come back here one day. Letting go is easy, even though I’ve made beautiful memories and met wonderful people here.
My foot has healed now, my lesson has been learned, and I can close Koh Phangan.
For me, everything was here: friendship, police, a drug bust, hospital, life, death, parties, food, spirituality, yoga, health, and movement. Everything that matters to me.
And that’s why I can close this period on Koh Phangan with enormous gratitude.
On to Bangkok for a new local Bangkok experience — this time with Supa, who has his roots there.
See you soon for a new Bangkok edition.
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