Jade sea-green, lemon-and-lime yellow and green stripes, banana yellow,
hot hibiscus pink, vermillion like wet palm fruit, morning glory blue,
shimmering beetle-wing green, orchid pink and white. These are the
colors of the taxis of Bangkok which navigate their maze of traffic amid frenetic paced motorcycles and mopeds, rooting around their larger
cohorts like insects marching around each other in the city-forest. Their smaller cousins, tut tuts, chugging around like rocket-powered golf carts with glaring ice
cream colors dancing around their delicate frames and wide seats,
begging for riders with promises of cheap fare, like a metallic beetle
mating dance, strutting their cephalothorax for attention and yelling,
smiling, competing, cajoling and gesturing at their potential matches.
Taxis are far superior, but there is something freeing and incredibly dizzying, not to mention invitingly semi-dangerous about having no protection as you speed around cars with no seat belt, sitting right behind a driver who will probably overcharge you far more than the value of the ride. Welcome to Thailand.
So far, the ferries along the Chao Praya have been the most enjoyable experience here. Just the lingering memory of a boat full of people chatting with bursts of laughter, sailing through the warm clouds of the electric-pulsing, skycraper gardens of night, the air enveloping you like an embrace of vapor, of careening through the canyons of temples and shopping plazas on a river of capitalist delights makes my heart sing.
