A girl I knew had a fling with a Ko Samet fire twirler. She was about 25, Caucasian from Canada and working temporarily at the TEFL school I was attending in Ban Phe at the time. He was likely early 20's, Thai, dark skin from all the days on the beach and Fight Club Brad Pitt abs. While I don't remember the exact details of how Erica and her fire twirler whose name sadly escapes me became romantically involved, I can safely guess it was at Naga Bar one night after he and his friends twirled fire on the beach.
In 2001, Ko Samet had only two places where fire twirling took place – At Naga Bar and Gecko Bar – which may well have been the only two true bars on the island. Usually one to three young men – always wearing tight jeans and no shirt – twirled chains with iron balls lit on fire at the end. Sometimes they also twirled fire sticks. It was usually started mellow and slow – almost like a public practice rather than a slow. Backpackers from around the world would sit on the sand, drink Thai beer to chill music and let the fire twirlers mesmerize them. There was oddly enough, a kinda' beach bonfire sort of vibe.
Erica began practicing twirling unlit fire chains in her free time. She tried learning the "jump rope" trick and the arm motions that made the fire move around one's body. In the end, I think the only sparks she experienced didn't originate from a lighter. Her fire twirling aspirations – like her relationship – lasted about three weeks. Her fire twirler seemed really sad about it – she was the one who broke it off. At about the same time as me, Erica got a job in Bangkok and it illuminated the fact that her path and her fire twirlers were not the same.
Since Erica and Twirler's days the Fire Twirling Industry has grown leaps and bounds. No longer is it a few chiseled teens and early twenty-somethings with tight jeans and dark tans – but squads of chiseled kids from about age 10 to maybe 25. Instead of mellow groups of backpackers drinking cheap Beer Chang and watching fire twirling against the backdrop of the night sky and seemingly endless Gulf of Siam, it's couples, families and large groups seated at restaurants watching sometimes up to six fire twirlers performing wildly to loud, often profanity laced lyrics ("Get your motherfuckin' hands in the air!")
Bands of fire twirlers go up and down the beach and perform at seemingly every restaurant. The restaurant pays for the size group they want and the performers also collect tips after each show. Hundreds - and probably at times thousands of people are entertained by fire twirling every night on Ko Samet. I venture to say that fire twirling is probably the second-most quintessential Ko Samet experiences after the beach itself.
I often wonder where they find and train all of these young men to fire twirl and how it comes to pass that there are always so many great performers in an industry with a mandatory retirement age of 25 (and that's only for the select, most talented few). I also wonder what happened to Erica's Fire Twirler. Did he graduate to a fire twirling trainer or manager? Or were his days of twirling and escapades with foreign girls extinguished after a couple of years? Either way, I'm sure he has some great stories to tell.
I also wonder of all things, how did fire twirling become such enduring entertainment on Ko Samet – and now other Thai islands too? From a practical perspective, it's a crowd pleaser that requires few resources, is totally portable and independent of the electricity supply – which is a distinct benefit on an island that for many years didn't have 'round the clock power. Fire twirling – while dangerous in many places – is perhaps best practice on sand and with no ceiling or trees around – another Samet advantage, although current fire twirling often brings finds the shows a little too close for comfort to restaurant ceilings and tables.
We should also acknowledge that in most Western countries the liability and insurance for twirling fire at a beachside restaurant would be far more than it's worth. To frame it kindly, Thailand is free of such restrictions and considerations.
But that's it right there. Fire twirling introduces an element of danger we don't get to typically experience in such a visceral way. Even if we're safely out of harm's way, the fire twirler is our avatar through whom we experience the danger. We're worried for him in part because we're worried for ourselves and his victory over the fire is ours. When the show is done, his accomplishment is hero's work and we can all breathe a sigh of relief and share a little bit of his endorphins. Like a rollercoaster or thrill ride, fire twirling creates a controlled environment (and I use "controlled" very loosely) in which to confront our fears. In other words, it forces an awareness without consequence (99.5% of the time).
Yesterday I did notably little. After writing my blog post and having a little ATM-related adventure (one of the three ATM's on the island was working and it was the furthest away), most of the day was spent in a bean bag lounge chair on the beach in front of my "resort" reading, getting massages, having lunch, taking an occasional swim. While I didn't fully unplug, I spent far more waking hours not looking at a screen than usual – which gave me that both blissful and scary time to be alone with my thoughts.
Two hours of massage – one feet/legs, the other head, neck, shoulders – not only made being unplugged a lot easier – but made me realize that one of the big joys of massage is really the forced awareness it brings. For all the massages I've had in my life – especially throughout Southeast Asia – I had never really considered that it's not the relaxation and pleasure of the massage – but the awareness of parts of yourself you've been neglecting, or holding in. All the stress and anxiety stored in this muscle or that. Noticing the tension you didn't realize you were even carrying when you would have said you were just fine. Or simply being in touch with your body – the little parts and spaces you rely on everyday and never give a moment's thought to – like the spaces between your toes.
Around the same time that Erica's flame was burning, I was frequently diving in to the abundance of Thai massage both in Ban Phe and Ko Samet. An older gentleman in our class who I didn't particularly care for said that Thai massage was just lazy yoga – you let the masseuse do all the work for you. At the time, I thought he was just an annoying jerk, but I came to realize later that he's kinda' right. Thai massage does put you into a lot of the same shapes as yoga and is a lot like taking a yin or restorative yoga class with someone else driving – and frequently kneading you with their elbows.
Like massage, yoga has many benefits – a very large one being the awareness it forces. There's no standing on one leg, placing the other foot in your hand behind your back (standing bow) without significant awareness of your body and breath. The irony is that the more you think about it, the harder it is. Awareness is not necessarily force, will or effort. Yoga also uses all kinds of little muscles we don't typically use in everyday life which is why it's not uncommon in the course of a class to be confronted with a posture or transition that makes you wonder for a moment how you'll even do it. I find most of the time I can – I just didn't realize that was even a thing. Then later some muscle or area of fascia reminds me I don't visit it often.
I don't think I'm saying anything new or that isn't already in the zeitgeist of our social conversation and consciousness, but the modern American – and global – lifestyle has us moving further away from regular awareness. In fact, the very act of writing this blog – or of reading it – is an example. We spend an increasing amount of our time focused on a reality that's in a screen or device – where our increasingly complex and vast set of interactions and experiences are not really happening physically but via data exchanged through fiber optics, towers and satellites. I work with people I have never met in person and have real relationships with them. My work product is valuable and can come down to digital files measured in kilobytes and megabytes. I have entire conversations by text message and in many cases maintain my relationships without actually even talking by phone, let alone spending time in-person. Increasingly, my banking, healthcare, legal, insurance, travel, the kids' sports teams, scheduling yoga – even communication with my kids' school including teachers, PTA and administration – are online. I have a dashboard for EVERYTHING. Of course, what I really have is a large collection of dashboards that never really bring ALL the information together.
Managing my life, performing my day-to-day tasks takes me out of the physical world around me and into a digital one. My life – our lives in general – frequently and increasingly resemble The Matrix.
Anything that forces us to exist fully off-line and to engage with the actual world we live in is almost thrilling. Ko Samet offers its warm water, soft sand, massages and fire twirling. At home people play sports, hike, surf and workout to try to be aware and in the moment. Even then, how many still are listening to music or a podcast to distract themselves?
Like in The Matrix, the real world is often scarier than the digital one we plug into. Sure, we get into tensions, face problems, glitches, communication breakdowns online. But there is a certain stability and an understanding that you CAN step away. Moreover, when you're online you're drawn away from yourself. You can curate who you are or appear to be. In the real world, we face more unpredictability and hardest of all, we're confronted with ourselves, our thoughts, our actions and all those feelings stored in our shoulders, hips and the spaces between our toes.
In many ways, it might be easier twirling fire for a living.
