The Constant Adventure of Bangkok Public Transportation

      I’ve been driving since I was 12 or so.  How, might you ask, did I start so young? As an only child of protective/terrified parents they did what made the most sense... they gave me ample practice time behind the wheel before releasing me into the world of driving permits and unsupervised vehicle operation. My mother would allow me to drive her on errand runs, weekly jaunts into N.Ga, and wherever else she thought would offer me good driving practice. At the time I thought it was SO RAD and, in retrospect, it was an extraordinarily wise way for her to be there for the inevitable new driver screw-ups. I credit her with a (nearly) flawless driving record and my confidence behind the wheel. Living rurally throughout high school drive times were long, roads were treacherous, and too many of my classmates live’s were abbreviated because they made newbie errors on unforgiving roads. Mom clearly knew best.
      All this being said, I’ve spent the last 7ish year relying solely on myself for transport. I’ve always preferred to be ‘the driver’ with my group of friends and I genuinely enjoy driving. I’ve embarked on road-trips for no reason and, if particularly upset/bored/stressed, will often jump in the car for a spin around the neighborhood with the windows down and music blaring. 
      I haven’t driven for 6 months and it is dually bizarre and empowering. I’ve relied on public transportation, taxis, rides from friends and my own two feet to get around. It is a testament to the Thai Public Transport system that I have done all this cheaply, safely, and efficiently. Bangkok traffic is gnarly. 
      I use the SkyTrain to zip across town on evenings and weekends, high above the kilometer long traffic jams on Sukhimvit and Silom. The trains are frequent, every 5 mins or so, and may or may not be packed sardine style.The people-jammed cars are always eerily quiet unless there are a group of American’s on board... in which case their entire, boisterous conversation rings throughout the length of the train. A highlight of the BTS are the omnipresent BTS police, men in skintight uniforms wielding whistles and stern looks for anyone who crosses the yellow line or dives through the closing doors. Each one has their own separate whistling style. Some are whistle-happy, unleashing a shrill tone at every conceivable opportunity. Others reserve their chides for true offenders. One particularly conversational policeman at Sanam Pao has a jovial greeting for each farang who walks off the train. 
      My commute to work is not on the SkyTrain line but I am fortunate that the municipal bus system is convenient and cheap. I hop on a bus (#44 or #67) that may or may not be air-conditioned and, occasionally, has bus pets... namely squirrels or mice that reside in a cage bolted to the gear box and loved-on by the driver. Sound bizarre? It is SO very Bangkok. I love it. I’ve reached a level of fuzzy familiarity with many of the bus attendants and drivers. Because I get off at one of the largest public hospitals (right next to my university) and am usually dressed in professional wear, they assume I am a physician or physician in training. They address me as ‘Doctor’, a title which I have tirelessly tried to lose without much success. The bus never fails to be interesting. Fellow riders can be entertaining, my own actions embarrassingly clumsy, or the sights from the window particularly engaging... it all depends on the day.
      As much as I would like to say I have sworn off motorcycle taxis after the harrowing accident I witnessed, I haven’t. Car taxis are great for cross-city, late-night commutes but nothing beats the back of a motorcycle when I need to get somewhere quickly. When I say traffic here is terrible, I am doing it great favors. Between the hours of 7am-10am and 3:30pm-6:30pm many roads are hopelessly gridlocked. Motorcycle taxi men deftly weave in and out of traffic and can get me places in 5-10 minutes that it would take an hour or more otherwise. They are cheap, thrilling and offer a nice, breezy retreat from pounding the pavement. The taxi men are usually very kind and surprisingly careful. While weaving through traffic via motorcycle would be disastrous Stateside (can you imagine how pissed off Atlanta drivers would be if someone dared to beat them to their exit?), Bangkok drivers are hyper aware of their surroundings and are accustomed to looking for brazen pedestrians and zippy motorcycles. Its just part of the normal traffic scene here. All this praise was a lame attempt to justify my use of them to my mother. Maybe it worked? Doubtful. 
Finding transport and navigating the city is a daily adventure that can be dually exciting and frustrating. I look forward to having my car again but, for now, view my daily commutes and outings as constant adventures. Life is never boring here.