On my tour of SE Asia, I couldn’t stop writing. I was filling up my Moleskine so quickly that I had to start writing in super small print just to ensure that I didn’t run out of space before I returned to Japan. It didn’t work and I had no choice but to buy a shabby notepad in Laos. I stopped recording daily entries altogether when I returned to China (because I wanted to live a “common” life).

Anyway, you may have noticed that for every date I was traveling in SE Asia, a corresponding entry in this blog does not exist. That is mostly do to lack of time and motivation to transfer my thoughts from paper to the PC. If you really live something 100%, I believe, then once is enough. No need for flipping through the photo album or reading old entries.

I must admit, however, that it is also partly do to self-censoring. I do have a couple of entries that are ready to be posted here, but I have yet to press the ‘publish’ button. One is from Thailand and details my first (of three) nights on Patpong, a red light district in Bangkok. You have seen the pictures from Patpong in the Gallery. Another is from Cambodia and details the night when I was hoodwinked by a guy with one ear and was offered a one night stand from a Laos/Khmer fire cracker.

Today I read an article about the growing strain in the relationship between tourists and Thai people. It closely mirrored my observations made while in Bangkok - a begrudgingly accepted interdependence of falangs, free markets, and paid love.
Before visiting Thailand, everything I had read and heard about Thai people was positive. Friendly, benevolent, warm-hearted, etc. I remember writing about my experience in the Chengdu airport, before catching my flight to Bangkok, about the cool demeanor of some young Thais that were on the same flight. I hoped it was a sample of what was to come. And it was, at least while I was in the airport. My flight landed in the middle of the night, so I had to hang out for 7 or 8 hours. A security guard and I started talking and he was more than helpful, retrieving maps for me and offering tidbits about Thai people and politics. But my final impression of Thais was that they were a people of frustration. I use “frustration” because the definition I found - defeated: disappointingly unsuccessful - most accurately describes what I sensed from them and, by the time I left, felt in my own heart.

“Asia’s most exciting city” was actually a twisted economic initiative in which a race to the lowest common moral denominator begets foreign currency…and I was accomplice to it. They got my USD, my time. They also got me thinking.

Thai women may be the most beautiful in the world. Hell, even the lady boys look good. I once wrote on the LBs, “You never know, so if you don’t roll that way, my advice is to keep your distance…or learn the hard way.” I digress. After a late night at the bar, I would wake very early in the morning to take walks, observing the locals commuting to work. Young Thai women, the same age as the strippers and hookers (and the same age as me) at the bars, dressed business casual, waiting in the smog-filled humid august air for an air condition-less bus to carry them to the office. What was the source of the worn look on their faces? Were they the same girls from the night before? Like superheroes, changing uniforms? If not, where did their paths diverge from the others? Had they been the recipient of a more privileged upbringing? Or, after all, was it just a matter of choices? What did they think we (foreigners) felt about them? Did they care? I had so many questions…and only a woman could answer them, which brings us to excerpts from the Thai entry titled “Thai Girls Gone Wild”.

If at first you don’t succeed, Thai Thai again. I did it Thai way. Nothing you can say can take me away from Thai girls. Thai me up Thai me down. Pick your poison. All our suitable, especially since things change in an instant. But we still can’t find Pad Thai noodles.

A few points. First, in my opinion, traveling to another country and not making a connection with a local is equivalent of going to a fine restaurant and not checking out the bathroom - it’s the worst case scenario. I try to eat local food, transport as the “common” people do, etc. But most important is dialogue, idea exchange. I’m in Thailand, I want to talk to Thai people. And if I have the opportunity to do so, especially with someone so beautiful, you’d better believe I won’t pass up the opportunity. Carpe diem, baby!

Second, thus far I’ve found that the locals in Bangkok make it especially difficult to have any meaningful exchange because one is not sure if they’re talking to you out of genuine interest or just as a transition to sell something. In all fairness, maybe she was trying to sell me something, but nonetheless, I was willing to take that risk, not only because she was beautiful, but because, and this is my final point, I firmly stand behind my belief that the best way to know a culture is through its women. They are synthesizers of it all, good and bad.

Skip ahead…

Before I go on about how this unforgettable night unfolded, let me explain a few things. First, I think its kind of pitiful that Bangkok is known, most notably, for its red light industry. Second, I don’t see the point - not only because I believe it helps perpetuate the cities reputation but, more importantly, because it doesn’t interest, stimulate me. And I can say that because I’ve seen it all before. Besides, in my opinion, there seems to be little practicality in paying to see or get something you should otherwise be able to obtain pro bono.

Was it the Singha (beer)? Was it peer pressure? I don’t except either as reasons why I went ahead with it. As one author wrote, “liquor does not intoxicate; one intoxicates oneself / lust does not blind; one blinds oneself…” In the end, I must say, unapologetically, I wanted the experience. Bangkok is what it is. They’ve positioned themselves (no pun intended), so I’m just playing in an environment that has been created by the people and co-signed by the government.
And a Bonus. Here is an excerpt from the Laos entry.

Taking a break from dancing, I sat down and saw a girl waving in my direction, motioning to come onto the dance floor. I didn’t recognize her, so I thought she was targeting someone behind me.

But then she walked up to me. Super petite and quite cute, her name was Miah. Half Lao, Half Khmer, she explained. I should have known she wasn’t 100% Khmer, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so cute. I hate to say it, but Khmer women are not attractive. Lao women, as I would find in the months to come, are rather pretty.

“You want to dance”, she asked? ” “No thanks, I have a girlfriend” “Where”, she replied? “In Japan”, I countered. I smiled, pleased with myself. Brow wrinkled, looking confused, she said, “Well, your in Cambodia, enjoy your holiday.” Impressed by her whit, I conceded a small chuckle while I gathered my response. “Do you have a boyfriend?”, I asked, expecting a negative reply. “Yes”, she said. “Where?” “In Canada.” “Then?”, I exclaimed, but she already had a response. “Let me finish”, she said with all the attitude that her small frame could contain. “But sometimes I like to have fun. Tonight. One night. No problem.”

Whoa!

To be honest, I’ve never had a one night stand. Well, except with myself. And actually, I’ve never been propositioned to have one. Or, at least not so frankly. I politely declined and she only said, “But I like you”, before walking away. Later, when I was preparing to leave, I saw her again. She gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek and said, “But I really like you”.
It’s irrelevant. No deal.