On a photo shoot in Thailand, hitting the old haunts

When people ask me what I was doing in Thailand, my response is always: "A little bit of everything."

Some days I was a teacher. Other days I was a traveler. Sometimes I was a model. And other times I was a program coordinator. I was an editor, an extra, a voice-over artist. A writer, a tourist, another foreign face. And some days I was all of these things. When you wear an assortment of hats, it can be easy to lose yourself in them.

And then there are the moments when you are afforded the unexpected opportunity to rediscover a bit of yourself. A full-day photo shoot with an Australia-based photography group, hangingpixels, was one such experience.

When I was contacted by Oat, the Thai photographer and owner of hangingpixels interested in shooting together, I was busy with end-of-term activities at Kainarai. (Oat is the nickname the photographer goes by. It is very common for Thai people to have short and often English nicknames, such as Earth, First and Beauty.)

Caught up in the life of an English teacher in a small city in a foreign land, I had all but forgotten about the lucrative hobby that had earned me small successes over the years: a photo in Seventeen magazine, a monthlong ad campaign in Japan, a bikini shoot in Hawaii ... .

I was ready to hit delete and send his message to the trash bin when a thought occurred to me.

Since arriving in Thailand, I had admired the beauty that was all around. From the worn yet majestic temple ruins to the simple yet genuine smiles, from the bustling markets of Bangkok to the quiet creeks of Chiang Mai, Thailand had presented me with boundless beauty. Maybe it was about time I took advantage and took some photos.

Oat told me he already had a top-secret location in mind — the ruins of an all-boys school on the banks of the Chao Phraya River. Intrigued and excited about the possibilities, I agreed to meet him and the other photographers early one Sunday in Bangkok.

In Thailand, I learned quickly that schedules are often a loose guide and that plans are always subject to change. So I wasn't surprised to find that in spite of our intended early start, several of the photographers were late. And over breakfast there was talk of a canal cruise.

Canal cruise? I hadn't gone to Bangkok to play tourist; I was there to model. So why on earth were the photographers making plans for a leisurely cruise in the canals?

Oat explained that the ruins he wanted to shoot in are off limits. The only potential way in is to pay off the guard at the gate. But the guard would still be asleep until the afternoon. The new plan: Hire a private long-tail boat, cruise the khlongs (small canals along which people live and work) and shoot some photos. More locations meant more opportunities to get the perfect shot, so I agreed to go along.

When the boat was ordered and ready, we climbed aboard — six photographers and all of their equipment, one friend of theirs, a friend of mine and me, in heels, a short skirt with full makeup and hair styled — not your typical tourist boat.

The only direction I was given was "Sit in the front." Climbing up the narrow bow I couldn't quite imagine where or how we were going to get any good shots. But as we floated along, the landscape changed, poses came naturally, and the shoot evolved.

Cruising down the khlongs I was overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling — complete bliss mixed with gratitude — and I thought, "Is this really my life?"

The day became even more surreal as we continued cruising and shooting. Other small boats of tourists passed, and I couldn't help but laugh at the bewildered expressions on their faces.

Imagine this: They are cruising slowly, taking in the quiet beauty and poignant poverty of life along the khlongs, when they pass by what appears to be just another tourist boat. But as they approach they see it is no ordinary tourist boat. There is a girl with wild hair and a silky green dress perched on the bow, and the rest of the boat is filled with camera equipment, umbrellas and a number of photographers, cameras flashing.

When the cruise ended we caught another boat to the ruins. For a fee, a lady aboard the boat gave Oat the verbal password we would need to be granted access. So what exactly were these mysterious ruins and why were they guarded? Here is what I found out: They are the ruins of an all-boys school that may have had some historical connection with the king. But the school also had an alleged connection with gangs. It is rumored that some gang members were killed on the grounds and as a result, the ruins are now haunted. A local family stands guard, preventing public access, and allowing photos to be taken only from outside the gates.

With all of this knowledge, we were unsure if we would even be permitted to enter.

But with cameras in hand and being the size of a proper gang ourselves, we stepped off the boat, walked through the (only) narrow street in the little village and approached the gate.

I think we were all holding our breath as Oat and Oph (another photographer) knocked and gave the password. Although I was only a few feet from the door, I could not see or hear anyone behind it. I was losing hope and growing more and more anxious. Surely, the guard would not permit us to pass.

Or would he?

The gate creaked open and the guard disappeared. Single file and in utter silence, we tiptoed along the unstable planks and over the swampy underbrush. On the other side of the makeshift bridge and safely on the ground, we all caught our breath and paid our respects to the ruins. (In Thailand, the greeting of placing your hands together as if in prayer while bowing slightly is called a "wai." This is how we "greeted" the ruins, and whatever or whomever was awaiting us inside.)

With hushed whispers, we entered and crossed faulty floorboards until we arrived in the courtyard. Despite the sunshine and the beauty of the ancient architecture, I still felt a chill and held my breath, heart racing ...

To be continued next week ...

Ashley M. Fitzgerald was a teacher, model and program coordinator in Thailand until December, when she left due to political unrest. She is now the international student adviser and registrar at Intercultural Communications College in Honolulu, Hawaii. She is a 2000 graduate of Harrisville Central School and a graduate of Middlebury (Vt.) College. You may send your questions and comments to her at afitzgerald@wdt.net.