As we were taxiing to the gate, I spotted out of the window the little airport busses waiting outside: no windows, fully open, like little sightseeing trams. They eventually dropped us off… no, not by a door. By an entry into a little alley in what looked like a lush green park. The alley turned out to be the queuing area for the immigration check. Outside. A smile of amusement was playing on my lips as I waited.
The immigration officer made an effort to pronounce “Georgia” and quickly pulled up visa requirements from his records. Looked through my papers, stamped them and smiled ear to ear: “You are my first Georgian visitor!” I beamed as I followed the alley a few meters under an imaginary doorway into the baggage claim area – breezy, warm, humid. No walls, no freaky security. Palms, flowers, ratan chaise longs and parasols. This place puts you in the vacation mood before you even pick up your bag. I later found out that Samui is one of the world's four open-air airports.
I followed the exit sign and faced another one: Gate 6. “Have a great vacation!” pulled me out of my disoriented stupor. It came from another tourist, his wife at his side with a tiny baby in her arms. “Oh, thank you! Uhm… You too!” “Well, we are leaving.” “Oh!” I swivelled around, looking for that exit sign that pointed for me to go this way. Sure enough, arrivals and departures did not seem to be distinctly separated. I figured the ATM and my airport transfer by a little counter in the "meeting area" and set off to my final destination, the Spa Resort. On the way, I was reflecting on how safe I felt and how easy it was to trust locals here.
***
They's put me up in a duplex bungalow, with a hammock and chaise longs on the terrace. Not a bit of concrete except for the foundation; all made of wood, bamboo, banana leaves and straw. The basic tiled bathroom had a large clay jar of water on the floor, a shower, standard necessities and a little lizard in the corner of the thick blue non-transparent window glass. "What a nice little touch!" I thought. When a moment later I noticed a humungous roach lying on his back on the other side of my bed, I got a pang of worry. Will I have the courage to take him out? How many more will I see during my stay? This was not the disgusting type that feeds in unclean kitchens; it was the type that is 10 times the size, but lookes disgustingly identical, lives and feeds out in the nature and flies. I evenually scrounged up the nerve to pick it up on a sheet of paper and carry out the door. For a couple of nights, before falling asleep, I've had to struggle with fear that I might discover one in my bed. I was particularly worried about snakes and once dreamt one.Up early, I set off wandering to explore the grounds and find the yoga audtorium, which turned out to be an elevated wooden terrace. I spotted a tiny wooden yellow lizard in the corner of a roof log and admired the thoughfulness with which these "nice little touch" lizards were scattered around for decoration. It so happened that the next morning, my nice little lizard in the bathroom was sitting in a different corner and the yellow "wooden" lizard in the yoga auditorium disapeared. The nature is best at decorating...
A few days into my stay, I was enjoying my delicious lunch and chatting with other guests when we jumped in our seats at a deafening female scream. "Snake!" There she was, weaving up the stone by the pool, green like a tree leaf and very very long. After we settled back in our seats, the conversation would not get off the snake subject. One of the men was brandishing his knowledge in serpentology: "It's a tree snake! It flies. It's the only flying snake known! They jump and fly from tree to tree. Scientists only discovered it very recently. They are absolutely harmless. They are venomous, but are not dangerous to people. It's amazing, they flatten in flight and can cover fairly long distances between trees," he went on, scaring the rest of us at the table and seemed to enjoy it. A Canadian girl, who lived in the other room of my bungalow duplex, diplomatically cut the serpentology lecture by sharing she kept hearing someone jumping on our roof and thought it was a chimpansee. I shared how scared I was of insects at night and received a very practical advice from the Japanese woman that was spending her third vacation here: "Ask the reception to have a mosquito net tied up on your bed. I had it done the day I arrived. I tuck is all around very tightly and sleep like a baby." And I did. It helped.***
This place was not a regular spa resort. It was a detoxing spa, running detox fast and colema programs, in which guests ate no solids and drank only vegetable juices and broths for a minimum of 8 days. The Japanese woman I mention above was on her 24th day of a 28-day program when I came. The programs are complemented with steam room, Thai massages, yoga, Qi Gong and meditations. To facilitate gradual return to solid foods after the fast, the restaurant here specialized in raw vegan foods, which were a true holiday for the palate. I did not come here to detox. I came here to take advantage of everything else: the healthy food, the yoga, the meditations and the peace...***
- What is your name?
- Irena.
- That means Peace.
- Yes. I am just discovering my internal peace now, and it was there for me all this time. Engraved in my name :-) What does yours mean?
- Gila means Celebration. It is my chosen name. My given name is Anna Christiana, a Graceful Christian. I did not want to be a Graceful Christian, so here I am, celebrating life.
The meditation that followed, led by Gila, was based on Osho's Nadabrahma. The state of relaxation and stillness is achieved through humming. The humming creates sound and therefore inner vibrations which travel easily through the water of our body cells. Apparently, humming at higher pitches connects to the upper parts of the body, the head and the heart, while humming at lower tones helps relax and connect with the lower parts of the body.
***
- Bye... The humming meditation and qi gong will stay with me. Thank you.
- Bye, Peace.
