Stories Vol 6: Night and Day with an Italiano

I go through phases of loving and hating Italians. Hopping into a cab with one from my hostel early Friday evening, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Early in the day on Friday, we both had overheard each others plans to take the bus+boat ticket servicem, Lompheraya, to get to Koh Tao, a Thai Island in the gulf. Realizing the pick up location was far from our hostel, I suggested we share a cab.

 

This was a gamble on my part. I knew nothing about this individual and by offering a shared cab to a bus we would both be on, I was essentially committing myself to staying with him for the next 14 hours. Realizing this only right after I made the offer, I made a mental note to tread carefully on this in the future.

 

And so the cab ride begins. Paulo and I sitting in the backseat begin introductions. We discuss, backgrounds, stories from travels and plans for the future. He actually is incredibly interesting. He is from Turin, near Milan, and is a professional Wake Boarding instructor. My mind wanders as he explains his profession to the first guy I dated. He was incredibly into the sport and probably would kill to have this discussion with Paolo. The Italian explains how they actually make a lake into an X-Treme obstacle course for stunts and what not. His work is much better than mine and his stories make me want to learn to Wake board when I get back.

 

What I also love about Paolo, is that he is a classic dreamer/romantic. He has been spending the last year traveling the world, working in Canada and in Australia, and now venturing through Asia. He explains that he wanted to see the world and experience life. I love that! He knows what he loves and what he wants to do for work.

 

Noticing we have hit the Khoa San Road area, we bring our discussion to a halt. It is very clear the taxi driver has no idea where we are. I look at the time and there is only ten minutes until we have to be at the pick up sight before they leave. "Fuck!"

 

I tell the driver we are not at the right corner and he does another circle. We go around street after street until we are in a similar looking area but coming from a different direction. I show him the Map and ask if we are here. He says yes.

 

Trusting the driver, we get out, only to realize we are at the same corner and a kilometer from the drop off location. I tell Paolo lets walk it but his three bags of clothes and souvenirs from a year of travel are too heavy. He approaches another cab.

 

The cab driver knows the bus leaves in ten minutes and says he'll drive us for 500 baht. Suddenly, the sweet and deep Italian explodes into an anger charged bargaining. "This is bullshit, it's two minutes away by car."  Finally Paolo gives in and we get in the car.

The cab driver takes us to a busy corner where he can't stop. Paolo says, "I'll get out and make sure we are here. Stay in the car." He does not trust the cab driver as so many try to scam and take advantage of tourists.

 

I see two reference points the hostel worker called out on the map and no we are there. I get out and pull our bags to the side of the road. Paolo is not happy when he gets back and throws 60 baht at the cab driver despite our agreed 500. The driver drives off pissed at being had. I'm uncomfortable.

 

With in seconds, I see the companies sign and motion to Paolo to start walking. We arrive and have more than ample time. The bus doesn’t come for another hour.

 

All in all the bus, then waiting around, then boat takes about 16 hours from the point we left in the evening to the morning when we arrive at Koh Tao. At the boat, Paolo and I part ways, I stay in the hull and he goes to the deck of the boat. Figuring I won't be hearing from him again, I head to our hostel alone surprised to be greeted by a smiling Paolo at the front desk. I'm torn on whether I want to hang out with him while on the island. On one hand he is very interesting and sweet but on the other he is very unaware and does not adjust his behavior to the culture.

 

He suggests to grab lunch. I concede and we head into town.

 

At lunch, we have a completely different conversation from our previous ones. In the blazing heat, he had taken off his shirt, exposing two tattoos on his chest.

1. The first is a quote on his left chest. It reads….

"The best kind of love is the love of life… Pass it on!'

2. The Second was a compass with an eye in the center, placed in the middle of a dream catcher.

 

I find tattoos and the motivations behind them fascinating. I decide to ask him the story behind them. He laughs and then his face quickly turns from a playful child like expression to a somber one.  "The tattoos are reminders for me. It's kind of a long explanation." He says. I tell him, I'd love to hear it if he is comfortable with it.

 

The quote he explains is a reminder that we have one life to live. Too often we seek out companionship and acceptance in the form of love from others. We chase it aimlessly through life and get lost. In his opinion, loving others is important but to have a rewarding life you have to have a love for living. He doesn't want to wake up one day to realize that his greatest adventure was a relationship. He wants his greatest adventures to be ones he's lived, maybe with someone else but maybe not. He wants to expand his horizons and see the world through many perspectives. He wants to better himself.

 

The other tattoo is a reminder of a much deeper sort. The eye is used to represent the idea that you need to see who you are for what you are and want to be. This is your guiding light with in a compass. Knowing these things will always prevent you from feeling or being lost in life and in experiences. Using this guiding light he set it in a dream catcher to remind himself to keep the bad things in life. To not let it get him down.

 

Had you told me that I would be having this deep and introspective conversation when I had entered the cab with the Italian wake boarder. I would have laughed.  Paolo is a great individual and I aspire to have his commitment to a way of life. On our way back to the hostel, I begin to think more and more about his words.I think through relationships, jobs, and my dreams. The result is overwhelming, with too many puzzle pieces to see in a mere 15 minute walk. Finding myself back at the Hostel, I feel lost.