pre-dawn ghosts.

there are few instances where i've needed to awake pre-dawn into a fully-functional human being, but today was one of them. at 330 in the morning, i am called by the taxi company; the car is on its way and should arrive within thirty minutes. i gather my belongings and make final checks, crank-starting my brain to re-understand numbers and phrases in thai. an orange taxi, this time orange, instead of blue or yellow or green or red or hot pink, pulls up to the door in the carport, and i load my luggage into the back. bidding a goodbye to vanda, i am off to begin my long trip home.

the streets of bangkok are desolate at four in the morning and utterly free of traffic and pedestrians. eerily silent, it is a rare sight. as my taxi zooms along, sending the wind rushing by the windows in a whisper, i take in my last views of the sleeping city - the shells of gutted apartment buildings, the murals of the king, the dusty rooftops of nearby houses, and the wiry forest of cable antennas and radio receivers.

a light rain begins to fall, quickly turning into a heavy downpour of heavy droplets, which rap at the roof of the cab like a shower of marbles. i was sure thailand wouldn't let me leave without showing me one last instantaneous rainy-season wet-spell, and as my driver drastically reduces speed on the now-slick pavement, i have a passing thought of sticking my hand out the window to let the rain bathe it clean.

nearing suvarnabhumi airport, a field of white and amber lights slowly come into view, and i can almost sense the spirits trapped therein. the cab pulls up to the terminal, and i pay my driver before entering the skeletal behemoth before me. as i sit in the benches by my flight gate, the curved wall of windows form an arching canopy over me and the bustling two-hundred-or-so people around me - over the five young women to my right, chit-chatting over matters on a sheet of paper passed around, over the four young men to my left, conversing in voices as low as they have sank into their uncomfortable metal seats, and over the three monks before me, bald in their saffron robes, two on their cell phones.

outside the wall of windows the sky is growing brighter with each passing minute, but the sun has yet to rise. large, thick, fluffy columns of clouds, invisible just a half hour ago, now loom ominously in cadet-blue pre-dawn lighting. more and more people are arriving to the gate each second, and despite the classical music the airport tries to pipe into the void through hidden speakers, it is almost completely drowned out by the chatter of travelers, the squeaking of luggage carts, the shuffle of people, the clanks of baggage-zippers upon metal security-check tables, and the low hums from the huge air-conditioning towers inside and passing planes outside; always the hums.

bangkok, thailand.