Popagandhi

It’s rather obvious I am a big fan of Thailand. I stay up until 5 in the morning to read about obscure, far flung corners of that country I want to love and hate, how to get there, and where to stay, for as little baht as I can manage, then I make random observations about it.

If you were to look at my search history from the last few days, you may be shocked by what you see. “porn, koh lipe”, “porn bungalows, koh lipe”, “porn AND thailand”. Does Google have an exclude operator in its search syntax that is smart enough to exclude real porn? Because I’m looking for a guesthouse by that name.

There is one fine line separating a Thailand veteran and somebody who goes to Thailand a lot (they’re not necessarily the same thing) � and that is: the Thailand veteran is able to say “Porn”, as part of a name or hotel, and not cringe. The latter will never come around to that.

I just kinda giggle.

I like Thai islands too much. They always mean banana pancakes 4 times a day, Beer Chang, $2 cigarettes, and nice little huts to snuggle in. I like Thai islands so much I told my parents I want to have my 21st birthday party there.

The appropriate response to that was: “I know you hate being around people and all.. but that’s one good way to make sure you can celebrate your 21st by yourself.”

That person is right.

My parents and I hold very different approaches towards travelling. They are of the opinion that I should prepare for the worst case scenario in which I am mugged and rendered penniless, and thus advise I append a stash of cash in an unreachable area of my body.

They’re right, for the most part. Except they also advise that this stash of cash be put in a little cylinder, and filled with talcum powder so nobody suspects what it is. I tell them this is a sure way for me to die in the event of a mugging: little cylinders of white powder, in addition to already having taken my other valuables? With cash in them? Hidden in the depths of unreachable areas of my body? Drugs, money and sex, (or what could be), what a great way to go.

My idea of a worst case scenario: losing my PowerBook and my cameras. Don’t be shocked when I turn on the culprit and pummel him into the ground. Nobody dares to take my babies.

My mother, like all mothers, sometimes complains about the kind of places I want to go to/have been to. Isn’t it unsafe? Isn’t there a terrorism problem? Militant insurgency? Bird flu? All I have to say in return is, “And where were you last year?” (Israel.)

It gets scary when you plan for next year’s classes with the guiding principle: preferably no classes on Thursdays and Fridays, so I can go away from Thurs-Mon if I feel like it.

Evidently I never recovered from wanderlust. I hope I never do.