The numerous streets and lanes in old Chiang Mai. None of them seem particularly crowded. It isn’t really high season, and the feel is a little mellow. We cruise through them all on our bike (scooter), with no particular place to go, waiting for something to catch our fancy.
We stop at it the second time we pass it. The first time we noticed how bright and colourful it was, and how empty. In fact, totally empty. Now we stop anyway (or because of that?), and step into a bar that’s about the size of our living room.
His hair falls untidily till his shoulders. He shuffles his scraggy self across to us with a beaming smile, nodding his welcome. We have the solitary beer that we said we would. We chat with Selly, as music from the 70s plays. I ask what else he has to listen to, and he tells me to take my pick. That would be a DVD on Woodstock.
Selly says “Freedom” very often; only sometimes because he is referring to his bar, which is called the Freedom Bar. Subdued lighting complements its bright colours, which- almost needless to say- are red, yellow and green. There are Bob Marley images everywhere, and it almost seems natural that the owner looks a bit like the icon. When we leave, he gives us Freedom Bar stickers. I can’t get over how much he keeps grinning, and its not the foolish, insincere kind.
Two nights later its our last night in Chiang Mai. After bar hopping by the river, we’re back in the old city, cruising, looking for somewhere to have our last few beers. We see the Freedom Bar from afar, we notice that it is buzzing with people, and we’re glad about that- we’re not really thinking of stopping. But as we approach the bar, Selly stumbles out the door. His grin is exactly where we had left it the other day, his arms outstretched, wildly gesturing for us to stop. I brake, and stop almost at his feet. He greets us like long lost friends, and before we know it we are inside Freedom Bar.
The rest of the night is spent with Selly and a few of his pals. There’s Anna the pretty Scottish-Thai girl, Joe(?) the madly friendly Muslim guy who sells jewellery, even in India; there’s Meow (yes, like the cats), who works double jobs and has taken an off night from waitressing; Anna’s silent and almost surly boyfriend who bartends most of the night. There’s the tall, silent, odd friend who arrives from Pai (after Selly disappears for half an hour to pick him up). Its more like being at a party than a bar- we even help around with a couple of orders from customers!
Selly‘s had a few beers as well. His English isn’t the best, so his jaunty “Freedom!” sometimes serves as a “hello”, or a “cheers”, even a “can I bum a cigarette?”. It also serves as “bye”, when we’re leaving at about 4am. By then we have been handed a couple of Freedom Bar lanyards (for a tiny setup he sure has his merchandising organised!), emails IDs, and the name of a bar in Ko Phangan- that’s where we are headed- at which we can meet Meow’s boyfriend…of sorts.
But that is another story.
8.3.07
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Freedom |
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