Pai - seconds

I can hardly believe this day happened. I chill all afternoon, rent a moped, and buy a guitar from the townie Muslim guitar shop. It's quite strange to see black masked ladies in shalls crusin down 101 in crotch rockets. I chat with 2 music club owners who speak some English. They both tell me to come back at 9pm to play a set. I am all jacked up.

I proceed to find some lounge time before the Asian rock-off. My hut is next to 2 Thai guys who have come to Pai to sell shoes at the evening market. One of them is playing guitar. These guys look way cooler than me. One has 7-years worth of dreads while the other has a perfectly spherical ABA baller fro.  I bust out my new Muslim geetbox. Afro tunes it for me because I cant tune a guitar by ear. He is a legendary human guitar tuner. His guitar playing itself is not of legendary status, but we jam anyway. I teach him "Watering Hole" and the porch becomes a three-man jam with Thai neighbor #2 slapping the porch with a spoon for percussion. 



I take a quick snooze and proceed to play an acoustic set at the bar neighboring my hut.
SETLIST...
-The States
-Watering Hole
-Fortunate Son
-Hotel Room in Casablanca
-News

A hippy-ish Canadian chick follows me with Cranberries covers. Apparently Pai just loves the Cranberries, yet no one ever plays their chick-rock smash "Zombie". What is wrong with these people?

We leave. McBritain gives me a lift on his moped. He is 4-deep, but no longer feels the effects of beer due to his 40 day bender. He is fine to drive.


We go to Beebop, the happening rowdy town bar for jam sesh #2. This place is a nitty-gritty,down n' dirty live rock club. Picture Jean Claude Van Damn playing Russian roulette in some bar in the orient in an 80's assKicker film. That image is Beeebop. Cig smoke covers the room as Thai dudes in bandanas and tats pound booze out of giant liquor fishbowls.


We form a band on stage. McBritain plays the drums, he's got the chops to backbone this spontaneous rock-a-thon. Cha, the bar owner, who spawned the Pai music scene 10 years ago, joins up as well. He comes out from the back room with a pink Hello Kitty guitar. He makes the pile-o-dung 6-string sound like a dream. Cha can shred. Thank god he can solo, cause I sure as hell can't. Thomas Heineken, a 2-toothed skinny German man plays bass. Thomas is beyond shitfaced. It doesnt matter. This man can rock. Physically, he looks like a corpse, but still looks badass when he lays down the groove. A cig hangs in his mouth and never leaves. Thomas and McBritain seem to be racing for who can puff more heaters during the set. I take rhythm guitar and lead voice. An ill Goggles snaps a few crummy pics.


I show the dudes 5-6 American rock n' roll tunes. They are veterans and pick up the songs in a heartbeat.
SETLIST...
-Hey Joe
-She's a Wreck
-I will Survive
-Hook
-Stand up for your Rights
-Lie in all Honesty

Beebop is ragin'. Thais are dancin'. A strung out hippy-Thai guy comes on stage for a Bob Marley cover in Bm. A random old Dutch dude arrives for a Harmonica solo. Almost none of us speak the same language, which makes this jam even more magical. McBritain takes a drum solo, we build it up. McBritain is a stern, composed man. I havent seen him smile once in the 48 hours we've hung out, but on this night we exchange shit-eating grins in the double digits. We finish the jam with a smash. We are riding high on post-gig euphoria and proceed to rage with the locals. Thomas thanks me and gives me a hug, he smells homeless. Pai makes my heart do flips.


It is time to leave Pai. I go to the shanty-garage of a bus station, interrupting 3 old locals getting schmaggled on Thai whiskey in the backroom. One "gentlemen" comes to sell me a ticket. He is genuinely pissed off to be doing so. I take a picture with him anyway.

I get one the bus back to Chaing. It is filled with 10 middle-aged Thai women and one white cracker from Wisconsin. The ride is bumpy and swirvy like a temporary Carny ride at the local fair. The Thai lady to my left begins ralphing into a bag. We are packed like sardines. My left leg catches a spray. This sets off a chain reaction of stomach juice. The 2 ladys directly behind me begins roaring with puke-age. The whole bus is vomiting except me, which is unfair because I am clearly the most hungover. I pat the Thai lady on back as she grabs another puke bag.

Those 48 hours in Pai were almost not real. I met a load of townies and tapped into the music scene just by spending a handful of glorious moments in the "chillest place in the world."

What a generous, joyous, group of people- the Pai's. What other group of folks actually like and respect tourists in their town? Pai locals. I want to take them all with me.