Koh Jum

Sometime in the beginning of February, I got an email from my mom letting me know that my neighbor from Plantation, FL would be hanging out in Koh Jum--a tiny island in the south of Thailand, not far from Phi-Phi--until the middle of March. Jeff Dietrich was one of those people that I did not idolize until after we were out of contact. He moved away from Plantation when I was 12, and I doubt I was mature enough to appreciate him until I got to college. I liked him ok when I was younger, but always thought he was sort of a weird guy. And he is, but now I like that about him.

So I took the overnight bus from Bangkok to Krabi and then took one of the ferries out to Koh Jum, and then a longtail boat to shore. In so many ways, he was the Jeff that I remembered. Still adventurous, still globe-trotting with his family, has Mowgli hair, dresses like an islander, and we still both knew how to climb fig trees (though he's lightyears ahead of me and most gibbons on that count).

First, the great parts of my visit.

--I could see the stars, and really enjoy them. For the first time since this summer, I got to lay down outside, feel my body against the ground, and just be. I got to center a little bit, and I needed it.

--Being outside with Jeff. Mainly, the talks with Jeff were what made the trip so amazing, but they were definitely enhanced by our being outside. He doesn't strike me as a guy that can be himself inside. Doesn't wear well on him. Climbing the fig tree, riding around the mountain on the motorbike, snorkeling, swimming in the ocean in the morning, walking the beach--that was how we could talk.

--When I talk to Jeff, I get the feeling like he's been here before. Ya know how it is when you get somewhere familiar after a really long or tough spell in the (emotional or physical) wilderness? That sense of knowing where you are, being able to guide yourself and anyone else that comes along? That's how Jeff is everywhere, with anyone, talking about anything. And he's not faking it. He doesn't need to. I don't know that I believe in reincarnation, but it just feels like he's been here before.

Now, for what made it uncomfortable. I will not get into the details of the who's and what's, partly because this is a semi-public blog. However, I will say this: the paradise felt fragile. The happiness, for a lot of the people on the island, was shallow, fake, and temporary. One of the couples on the island consisted of a woman who, being financed by her very wealthy father, came to the island to indulge in her alcoholism; and a married man who was much older than her, and had been putting off telling anything to his wife for a full year. Others--mean drunk bartender who had faked both a teaching and a bartending license, and went to Koh Jum because they cared about neither, and a British couple naive of the grunge carrying on around them, and considering purchasing one of the villas on the island. Even Jeff, as wonderful a guy as he is, had his own deep, difficult flaws. After 2 and a half days, I needed to get out of there. The waters are beautiful, the snorkeling is great, the karsts are breathtaking. And there is almost nobody on the island besides Thais. But you still can't really get away from it all.