My last meal in Thailand was an expensive dinner thanks to the exorbitantly inflated airport prices. It was a fitting dish for my transition from Asia to Europe, a Tom Yung Kung with a penne pasta twist.
After downing that with time to kill, I thought I’d try a Thai traditional massage. A woman directed me to a closeted off bed where I changed into a set of pjs and waited for my masseur. And so the torture began.
OK, it wasn’t all that bad, but it wasn’t really comfortable or relaxing either. I found it hard not to tense up when elbows were being shoved into my back and if I thought the elbows were bad that was nothing compared to the knees. I didn’t want to be “bad” for her and thought dumb shit to myself like “Can she tell this is my first time? I mean she’s done this so many times surely she can read bodies and tell?” and wondered what other secrets my body might be giving away. The whole massage thing is kind of surreal, if you think about it. The way she turns her own body into a kneading and stretching machine, pulverising and tenderising me.
I had been reading in Farang magazine about a traveler who obsessively had to spend all of his currency before he left the country. He would plan for days to ensure every cent would be spent. After changing my money into euros I still had baht left so decided to follow suit. What I really needed were some sunglasses cases and I spotted a beautiful one made of Thai silk, but it was too much for what I had so I had to settle for the more modest lipstick case. But when I reached the counter turns out everything was on sale, bringing the 240B sunglasses case to precisely the amount I had. It was a sign! I might try this every change of currency.
To be honest, I’m pretty happy to leave Thailand for Spain. Don’t get me wrong, Thailand can be great. And I’ve gotten use to life here. But my heart’s just not into it. This country is a Westerner’s playground – a place and time to do nothing but chill out and get drunk. A Westerner experiencing Thailand is a Westerner experiencing a nation laying themselves before them in service. As a country so heavily reliant on the tourist dollar, everything is on sale here. It is one massive act of prostitution, encapsulated by the Thai prostitute herself, who is bought for the evening by young white men and bought for a lifetime by the older ones.
(And don’t think for a second this is an untrue cliche – Thailand is notoriously sexually liberated, with ‘ladyboys’ and prostitutes seen everywhere. Apparently in some Thai villages over 2/3rds of the women have white husbands, predominantly Swiss. I don’t judge the women – many of them are divorcees and it’s difficult to remarry in Thailand. Plus, the temptation of the financial and social security that life in the Western world can offer is too tempting. But the men? Who have found white women ‘too difficult’ and are looking for a subservient, docile Asian woman who will be completely reliant on them, to own them, as trophy wives and sex slaves? Yuk.)
Check out Futon at their fantastically titled site: Rehab is Fab. Thailand’s own electro punk band: they’re trashy, they’re sleazy and play “fuck” music. (Compulsion’s Review.) Wish I could hear them play this Saturday at Playground (see previous lesson) but I’m in sunny Spain by then. Nevertheless I plan on getting a hold of their album “Nevermind The Botox” (including their hit single, a cover of the Stooges’ “I Wanna Be Your Dog.”)
From local electro to local electro, The Presets have a brilliant new website with some suitably 80s retro aesthetics. Hands up who remembers computers when they were black screens with white writing and you had to do all the DOS language /run /quit etc.? And floppy disks were (1) around (2) really big and actually floppy. Anyway, check it and its brilliant video out here.
Never let it be said KB doesn’t show you the reality of travel. You think it’s all coconut shakes and singha beer in Thailand? WRONG! THIS, is their version of a TOILET.
I think I’ve got using them down pat:
(1) Roll the bottom of your pants up and try to stick your bag on a hook. The floor will inevitably be wet and who knows that that wetness is.
(2) Pull your pants down as far as they can go. If you don’t pull them down far enough you will wet them.
(3) Squat over the toilet, which basically means putting your feet onto the two “flaps” and positioning yourself over the toilet.
(4) Do your business with careful aim.
(5) I hope you’ve brought tissues because there’s unlikely to be paper in there (some places sell it at the entrance.) Thais prefer to wash with the water nearby than wipe, but Westerners aren’t a fan of this technique.
(6) DO NOT place the paper in the toilet. The sewerage in Thailand can’t handle this. The bin is for your paper.
(7) Here’s the tricky part. Nearby is a tap with a bucket of water and a smaller pail inside the bucket. Take the pail and fill it with water (either from the water already in the bucket or from the tap). Now stand a good distance away from the toilet (to avoid splash back) and “throw” the water down the toilet aiming at the drain. This is their version of a flush.
(8) Leave toilet and wash your hands. Be sure to carry your own cake of soap if you feel the need as there will inevitably be no soap either.
See, that wasn’t complicated now, was it? And don’t worry, that photo was taken before it was used.
1 You know when you see Thai people in the Thai environment it looks normal because yeah, they’re human, but they look different to us and we’re use to seeing people who look like them in that environment. But cats and dogs here look like cats and dogs at home so it’s weird seeing them here just hanging out in hotels and walking the streets unleashed and shabby and skinny.
2 There’s nothing nicer than the rumbling purr of a motorcycle between your legs.
3 Thai desserts are my new delight. Simple but delicious. Like sweet sticky rice with condensed milk and fresh mango pieces and these yellow seed things.
4 You never hear an album properly until you’re hurtling through a highway on an overnight bus and there’s nothing but the songs playing through your I-Pod as your sole focus. (I had never truly experienced “I Com” by Miss Kittin and “Gotham!” by Radio 4 until now.)
Although outside these travel times, my I-Pod has rarely seen the light of day. New sounds of new streets are far more interesting. Plus, the petulant whines of Blonde Redhead or the nilhisitc drones of Joy Division just don’t seem right in the dirty hustle and bustle of Bangkok.
5 You can find boys in old vespa T-shirts and scruffy converse shoes in every nation. Thai boys do the indie look particularly well because they’re naturally skinny. God my waiter is cute.
6 I always forget to pack nailclippers.
7 I’m still dreaming in Sydney. I don’t think it’s quite set in how long I’m going to be away for.
8 I spotted a pretty young woman holding a massive bunch of balloons, to sell presumably. They really were abnormally large balloons, and so many of them, all sitting square to one another so it created a multi-coloured heaven floating above her. It looked so absurdly wonderful I couldn’t help but smile, and when she saw me she looked confused as to why I was smiling at her. But then she saw me look at the balloons she smiled back, so for a split second we shared a common understanding – aren’t balloons great?
I slammed my hand on the table a few times to psych myself up. C’mon KB, you can do it. These people have been doing it for thousands of years it’s not going to kill you. C’mon, C’mon. I could hardly bring myself to touch the dried cricket, let alone eat it. C’mon, C’mon.
And I did it.
More photographic evidence on my flickr page.
