I miss this guy. I still remember the night we were all out dancing in the White Room, he told me I was like a daughter to him. It probably occurred to me at some point that I’d never see him again after leaving Thailand. For one month, we were classmates, we were friends. It was a motorcycle accident. Love you John. The world is worse off without you. Thank you for lending me pens. Thanks for the laughs, the advice, thanks for being my Dad away from home.
All the cigarette boxes in Thailand have these nasty pictures of rotting teeth and body parts. He once told me “Well I can’t stop smoking now can I? I have to collect them all.”
It’s six AM and I can’t sleep. Jet laggin’ like none other. Transitioning back to the U.S. hasn’t been so hard yet. I have missed some things in the past two months. Mostly people, but the fact that I can dance without paying exorbitant prices for drinks is a nice little bonus. In Thailand I often got kicked out of bars because I wanted to dance without buying anything.
I no longer feel like I’ve left the past behind. Fargo is full of people that know too many personal things about me. Eek, I wanna get out again. Cue the obsessive internet searches for plane tickets.
Was talking to my brother, and apparently my parents were so worried about me while I was gone that they were losing sleep. This makes me feel kind of awful, although it wouldn’t have changed anything had I known. This is something I had to do. Why worry about something you have no power over? It must have something to do with having kids. I remain every joyful about my lack of uterus-spawn.
Besides, Patong is full of cops. No one there wants to mess up their source of income (tourists). I always felt safe, even walking home in the early AM, alone.
On my last day, I met a Thai taxi driver who was impressed with my (very limited) grasp on the Thai language. I wanted to cross the street and traffic was pretty bad, so he had me take his arm, and walked me very slowly across the street (with a huge line of cars zooming toward us) while humming the wedding march. That sort of comical openness to strangers is something I will miss. I suspect it would have been even better in the non-touristy parts of Thailand (although the language barrier would be terrible).
Fun fact: There is no road rage in Thailand. They are crazy/dangerous drivers, sure. But they don’t get angry if you are in their way/driving too slow/whatever. They simply slow down, or try to get around you. Fargo traffic seems absurdly tame, as if every car is driven by a very careful, very ponderous old lady.
I will go back. Not to Patong, but definitely to Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and some of the tropical islands. I so wish I could sleep right now. ugh.