Back in the day in Thailand,

I found weed in the closet, opium in the jungle, and nirvana at the Bangkok Oriental.

One random day in '97, (when I was living in NYC) my good friend and former boss, Tra-Ling, called on the landline.

"Hey you know what?" She asked in her adorably hard-to-understand Taiwanese accent.

"You know where you need to go?" (She didn't wait for an answer) ... "Thailand!"

"Yeah sure Ling, everyone should go to Thailand ... maybe someday."

"OK, I call you right back."

Ten minutes later the phone rang again.

"Hey okay get pack, I told client, I need "horticultural consultant" for to check the orchid pots. I go next week, now you come too! It gonna' be so much fun!"

"Huh? But I'm not a horticultural consultant."

"Sure you are! You plant girl in New York! But don't matter, I already know, pots gonna' work, I just need way for you come too!"

"Well hell to the yeah Ling! Are you serious? You're so fucking awesome!"

"I know that!" She squealed back laughing, "Tee-hee-hee-Tee-hee-hee. What airport you want?"

At JFK a week later, I boarded a fourteen hour flight to Tokyo, connecting with a seven hour flight to Bangkok, and it was the middle of the night when the plane made its final descent.

Following signs written in letters like flourished sprocket parts, I thought I was heading to ground transportation, when someone ran up from behind and grabbed my arm.

"Hey, where you goin'? This way."

"Ling! Oh my god! You scared me!"

"Tee hee hee hee - C'mon, I got surprise for you."

 "Dude, I can't believe I'm in Bangkok!"

Ling had already been there a few days, as well as a couple of trips prior, making deals for her Asian Manufacturing Sourcing company, and had no problem maneuvering us out of the airport to a waiting car, directly to the Erawan Grand Hyatt Hotel.

Despite standing just under five feet tall, Ling is a straight up FORCE OF NATURE, masterminding every situation before anyone even notices she there, speaking half a dozen Asian languages, and running countless successful companies since arriving in America on her own at seventeen.

***SIDE NOTE: I first met Tra-Ling at the Fox Theater in Boulder, when she thought I was standing too close to her boyfriend Doug/Charles, who happened to be a co-worker of mine at a cafe on Pearl Street. Halfway through a Big Head Todd song, a very well-dressed, very tiny Asian woman, started poking me HARD, reaching up to stick her finger in my chest:

"HEY, you wanna' tell me WHAT THE FUCK you doin' talkin' to my boyfriend?"

"Geez Ling, calm down!" Doug/Charles told her. "It's just Brooke, we work together at Pour La' France."

And somehow, by the end of that first night, Ling and I were tight, and I'd decided to take a few shifts waitressing in one of her Boulder restaurants: The Pleasant Street Cafe, where even though she was my boss, our friendship became uniquely close.

***

Inside the cushy Bangkok hotel room, Ling couldn't stop giggling, excited to show me her big surprise.

"Tee hee hee, look in the closet. I got you a present!"

Pulling open the slated wooden door, I caught whiff of a shrub-sized portion of Thai Stick wrapped in newspaper like a bundle of dried flowers (which of course it was) taking up the entire top shelf of the closet. The buds were the biggest I'd ever seen, literally enough to last a hardcore stoner like myself a year, and I gasped out loud at the giant green bundle.

"Holy shit Ling! That's a lot of weed! Where'd you get it?"

"Tee hee hee, I know you like to smoke that stuff, so I ask around and got it in the market."

"They sell giant bushels of bud in the market here? Damn! And we won't get in trouble for having it?"

"I don't think so... pretty sure just get in trouble for heroin here."

If Ling said it was okay, then it was okay by me, and I constructed an impromptu pipe out of a soda can poked with a safety pin, and lit up real Thai Stick my first night in Thailand.

The next day I hurried along, trying to keep up through Buddhist temples, open-air markets, noodle stands, and some random lady's apartment for an uncomfortably twisted massage on a floor mattress, as Ling charmingly captivated everyone she met, quickly learning their names, and gathering recommendations for everything under the sun; constantly fostering new business relationships.

Her recent boyfriend, Jeff, had also made the trip, and that evening the three of us took an overnight train to Chiang Mai, a main northern city close to the borders of Laos and Mynamar, referred to as The Golden Triangle,

Jeff was a super-chill, laid-back, ex-hippie/sailor, and also a successful Boulder restauranteur, making him the perfect match for Ling.

(Proof positive they're still together- 28 years later!)

In Chiang Mai, we toured the orchid pot factory that we were officially there to see, as well as the temple of Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, where an army of bald-headed, orange-robed, monks protected the sacred Buddhist site made entirely of gold.

Ling had planned an overnight trek to a hillside village, and we joined a nice young couple traveling from the Netherlands, to hike up a dusty trail guided by a local man named "Stumpy" Sawat.

Pacing myself, I'd stopped next to a clump of palms when Ling caught up and poked my side.

"Look what I found?' She said, a bit more subdued than usual, handing over a wad of something wrapped in plastic and brown paper.

"What is it?"

"Tee hee hee hee - I think it might be opium."

"Opium?! No way! You just found it?"

"I don't know... maybe... tee hee hee hee."

And then she scrambled off to catch up with Jeff.

We eventually made it to a misty hillside village nestled in rolling green vegetation, where a group of Lahu people welcomed us into their homes with kindness and smiles. I emptied my bag of anything remotely interesting to give the sweet children who were excited about everything, including :

• a notepad from the hotel,

• a few pens,

• some pieces of melted chocolate,

• half a box of tic-tacs,

• and even stickers from airport baggage claim

  
  

  

  
  

***SECOND SIDE NOTE: The following year Tra-Ling returned to the same Lahu village with crates of art supplies for the children. The year after that, she went back and had a school built for them, its continued operation guaranteed through a deal she'd brokered with Whole Foods - agreeing to sell Lahu woven bags in all its stores, with proceeds going directly back to the tribe. Now, thanks to my friend Ling, the Lahu children have a school, and guaranteed future operations. (Like I said, straight up force of nature.)

***

Even though it was in a cold raised hut, and beds were hard wooden planks, we slept like rocks, and the next morning scarfed down eggs and coffee prepared over an open fire.

Once the morning air warmed, a Lahu man led us through the forest to meet his faithful working-companion elephant, who graciously permitted us onto his back and gave us a ride to the river. As the incredibly smart animal responded to his handler’s hand signals and vocal commands, his large gentle eyes conveyed innate wisdom and grace, and I thanked him telepathically, trying to show my love and respect.

Soon we were balanced on makeshift bamboo rafts floating miles downstream, eventually getting packed onto benches in the back of a covered truck to make a quick stop at the Mekong River.

Back down in the southern part of the country, after an adventure with the 'found' opium, a missed ferry, and a night with an International Jamboree of Boy Scouts, we ended up on the heavenly island of Koh Chang, which is part of a protected marine archipelago where the sand is baby powder soft, and the trees drip with orchids.

(FYI: Thailand is known as: The Land of 10,000 Smiles, but they also say, although someone might be smiling, it doesn't always mean they like you.)

After a few days in paradise, we headed back to the crazy hustle of Bangkok, just as the country was experiencing a major national currency crisis, causing the Thai baht to be astronomically devalued compared to the US dollar.

In other words, our American money went hella far compared to a few days before, and we wasted no time checking into the elegant, exorbitant, Bangkok Oriental Hotel.

With three-hundred dollars suddenly going as far as three-thousand, Ling and I booked an entire day at the Spa at the Oriental, (arguably one of the best spas on Planet Earth) where we got the works as androgynous staff repeatedly:

• applied treatments of salt scrub, body polish, mineral mud, or kelp wrap

• between trips to a multi-headed shower where they would rinse me off and do it all over again

• followed by massage to every inch of my body, while laying on a bed suspended over moving water and floating flowers

Leaving the private spa island in a speechless state of bliss, nearly incapable of functioning after being so pampered, the seats of the boat seemed extra hard, the motor obnoxiously loud, and the sun uncomfortably bright - but we survived.

And so here's to Tra-ling ... for being an inspiration to women everywhere, and a true blue!

Nothing but love. (Tee hee hee)