Popagandhi

a.k.a. I’m Going Away From This Blog For A While

With such a long academic break ahead of me, I have started to think long and hard about specific issues. Issues like my academic pursuits, and the changes I am looking at effecting in that area. My skills, my prospects; the battles I choose to fight, battles that choose to fight me.

One of these issues is this site. To be more specific – the relation of this site, to my offline existence; the focus of this blog; the readership levels and the semi-fame it brings. I thought I could handle fame but I’m not so sure anymore. My priorities have shifted far beyond the world of blogs and the web. I have, to be honest, no further interest in blogging.

That’s because it has brought me a mixed bag of fruits. I have become synonymous with several things but it is not the extent of who I am. Reading me is not the same as knowing me – it is knowing what I let you know of me. The rest is inference. I have met many people through this medium, some of whom have become my trusted friends over the years. I have, at my disposal, a tool to reach out to a large audience by simply hitting Publish. As one of the larger sites, and as someone who’s “out” – this coupling has borne mixed results. On the one hand, it was always in line with my personal objectives, that being open and vocal about the issue of my sexuality would help someone who needs to know it is nothing to be ashamed of, that the normalization of something perceived as taboo might set the foundation for the future. On the other – I am not out to family, and have epic battles of tradition and religion in front of me. Few in my age group – hence dating pool, and former and present lover(s) – are out either, some not even to friends. Being associated with Popagandhi is an unnecessary hindrance I sometimes wish I didn’t have to bear them down with. This is especially so now that I am involved with a wonderful person with whom I am looking forward to sharing many happy days with – and to adversely affect our relationship in any way, especially with a shared set of mutual relations and acquaintances and institutions – would kill me.

I think we often forget that I may be Popagandhi, but Popagandhi is not me. I forget this myself, too. I am not as opinionated as Popagandhi appears to be. I am not intimidating in any way. I do not speak in perfect English at all times of day. You may add Mac and gay and young to my name, but knowing all these are my characteristics do not mean you know who I am. I’ve thought about this for a long time – first when I put this site through a hiatus in September last year – but I’m none the wiser. My priorities have shifted. There are things which are important to me now.

I will be gone for a while.
I will be working on several other projects.
I will be working to pay off my debts and to finance my dream of seeing India again.

The site will not disappear – for now – I can’t kill it just like that. At the very worst, I can promise at least some form of archival of my favourite pieces (and yours). At the best I may revamp and redesign and return, but with a new and more impersonal approach where you will know me as Popagandhi and not as Adrianna, as a writer but not as a blogger or a person you think you know or who is a friend of a friend of a friend of a classmate.

The whole problem is: this country is too fucking small. As are the social circles we tread in. I’m not one to be affected by what is said or thought, usually – but when consequences are real and tangible, and what I cannot dodge, I have no choice but to listen. If I am speaking in parables, it is only to protect myself. As I have learned to ever since readership began to consistently see figures which make me dizzy.

When I am sitting at a corner, waiting for transportation (yes, I’ve decided that juggling hourly-rated work between restaurant serf, in addition to Mac serf, might perhaps pay my debts and still raise enough funds to send me to India this November) – looking, colloquially speaking, at my worst: it is not a good idea to attach “Oh, Popagandhi” to your sentence immediately upon introduction. It gives me a good incentive to hop into a cab every night after work, incurring enough midnight surcharge to feed a family of four in Cambodia. The long term effects of this, you will see, are increasingly decreasing disposable income in the long run, resulting in turn more time required for employment, and an excuse not to write. (Even if I get free WiFi at both places of employment!)

If I am walking down a street, browsing in a store, reading a book by a cafe – it is more than likely I have my earphones surgically attached to my ears, at a volume designated “Will Not Be Disturbed Except In Circumstances of Apocalypse or War or Similar”. Coming up to say hi, is fine; but to do so in circumstances like these inevitably plucks me out from that surreal setting I have created for myself, and it doesn’t help that I am typically sleepy at most hours of light. Coming to say hi when I am in the state of inebriation, especially at that point when I begin to think myself so gifted at verbal (and other) exchange, would be ideal – though if you have a camera with you, it might perhaps help to jog my memory the next time I see you. Just don’t Flickr it – if you do, please don’t tag it with “adri” or “popagandhi”.

When I am on a date, and sure signs of it being some degree of hand-holding (in addition to me glowing and radiating at 700 watts), it is not a good idea to approach me and to say how much you adored a certain post. This is especially so if the entry you speak of is at least 2736 years old (in Internet time), and/or if you should recall it in every minute detail even if it is no longer available at the site. This is because it will freak out the person with me, who has already suffered great limitations to her rights to online expression (namely not being pictured in the same jpeg file as I am), and who has had to contemplate more than once upon what it involves to date me – recognition on the street does not help. It would do better to give me a nod of silent acknowledgement. Then again, being positively radiating, I cannot guarantee I will be able to catch glances anywhere outside my happily narrowed field of vision.

If you are my father – my God – don’t shock me by revealing how much you know about events in local blogosphere. I like to think anyone living in my house, 45 years and above, is unable to navigate beyond yahoo.com or fishandpetsandgardens.com. So if you do indeed know about the latest juiciest happenings, and you have advice on what I should do while blogging to “stay out of trouble” – my God – please don’t reveal it over iced kopi, like you did that night – that you know more about the “scholar fiasco” and about Acidflask, than I do. It nearly made me choke to death on the peng in my kopi peng. I don’t want to know that you know what you shouldn’t know. Asking if I have photos of myself kissing girls on the Internet (hell NO! but you didn’t ask if they were in any form of optical storage), and if that is what my cameraphone is for, right after your wife makes knowing or unknowing references to “your girlfriend”, is also one sure way to ignite that cerebral equivalent of “choking on peng”.

Gone are the good days when all they knew was to type yahoo.com into the search bar in yahoo.com, and when help was required to turn on a computer. That’s because they’re all Mac users now.

Isn’t it strange to converse with someone who lives in the same house as you do, in this manner (via comments in Flickr)? “Where is my iTalk?” “Oh, it’s in my bag.”

1. FoodLoft
7th Floor, Central Chidlom (nearest BTS station: Chitlom)

I’ve swooned about this place time and again, and for good reasons – this is what we should have back home, or in any city in the world. I’ve described it many times as a cross between Marche and Mezza9: where the only resemblance to Marche comes from sharing the same market-like concept aided by cards for ordering. FoodLoft is definitely where the Bangkok upper middle class dine, with prices to match. While it may not be the “genuine Bangkok experience” (and who’s to say what is genuine and what isn’t?), for those of you on your 124242th visit to the City of Angels, and tired of the usual dining prospects, FoodLoft is an excellent option. There is a range of food on offer here: Thai, Chinese, Singapore/Malaysian/Indonesian, Italian, Japanese, Vietnamnese. Prices at around 70-100 baht and upwards (S$3-4) per main course, which is rather extravagant by Thai standards. Take special note of the desserts here – they had us returning every day, for dessert alone. All the sorbets and pies and cakes are to-die-for.

FoodLoft website

2. Playground
818 Sukhumvit soi 55, Thonglor

Sometime in April, a new concept store was launched in Sukhumvit soi 55 (Thonglor). It’s difficult to describe this place, because it really does take your breath away. The black-clad building’s other primary colours are hot pink and white, managing to be as bold as it is uber-cool. Stepping into Playground, it’s hard to put a name to it – is it a department store? Is it a club? Is their CD section really music retail, or does it have *gasp* iPod photos built into the wall, with indie music in every single one of them? (The iPods seemed to contain more Belle and Sebastian albums than I own.)

A cafe on the ground floor, Vanilla Industries, seemed to have a good selection of food and pastries, but we headed for KUPPA@playground on the third floor – cafe/ restaurant/ cooking school. The decor was clean and minimalist, with comfortable sofas – the menu had an extensive range of pastas and pizzas – all of which, I guarantee, were extraordinary. And you pay the corresponding price for that. A cooking class was in session, with the celebrity chef Dan from the famous Bed Supperclub conducting a class for a small group. The clientele appeared to be well-heeled, well-dressed, middle-aged Thais (and expats). And in the corner, on a sofa somewhere, two girls were happily indulging themselves in brunch, spending about S$50 in the process. My parents told me Bangkok was going to be cheap. Not for me.

In the retail sections, an entire corner is devoted to photography, art, and design books (in English); clothes and shoes, accessories, make up the rest of the store. Designer furniture. An art exhibition was ongoing. DJ decks feature prominently between the escalators, a giant pink dinosaur skeleton occupies the central spot.

Walking through Playground, I can’t help but come to the conclusion that this place was definitely designed by gay men – it has to be.

3. Le Cafe Siam
4, Soi Sri Aksorn, Chua Ploeng, Sathorn 10120
(See this for a map, and printable instructions in Thai for taxi drivers – you’ll need it!)

I know what you’re thinking – French and Thai food? – ewwww. But first, Le Cafe Siam has been described by some to be one of the most romantic places to dine in Bangkok, and rightly so. It’s a colonial bungalow lovingly restored and furnished with antiques and artwork – all of which you can buy, even the brass ashtray on every table, the chair you’re sitting on, the “street lamp” in the garden. Regardless of whether you choose to sit inside or al fresco, it’s bound to be “intimate”. I noted that the restaurant was one of very few who get their table arrangements “just right” – with a suitable amount of space between each table (inside and outside), and waitstaff positioning themselves a good distance away – the attention to detail was immaculate. Have a after-dinner drink in the cozy bar upstairs.

To walk into the restaurant, first you must pass a short footpath through a lovely garden, the same garden in which you can dine al fresco. Being such connoisseurs of that activity embodied by the banner on the top of this page (i.e. something involving sucking and dragging), al fresco it had to be. The waiter, on seeing we had chosen to sit in the garden with the geckos, immediately pulled out wooden stools so we didn’t have to lay our bags on the ground, and helpfully offered mosquito repellent. Nobody dines al fresco in a garden in Thailand except smokers.

Having had Thai food for several days, we opted for the French menu and didn’t have a chance to sample the Thai food. Apparently the French chef had served in several Michelin-starred restaurants in Europe prior to his tenure here, so the food was of a correspondingly high standard. The herb-crusted ahi tuna (460 baht) and duck breast with poached granny smith apples (430 baht) were excellent.

The waitstaff here were great – great service, and animated. Asking for a dessert menu, one promptly ran to the kitchen to fetch us a tray of every dessert they had on offer that night, and ran us through them one by one. Talk about interactive menus! As we prepared to leave, he then asked if we needed him to “call a taxi” – and we agreed, thinking he meant he would make arrangements over the telephone. Five seconds later, we heard a high pitched voice from the road screaming “TAXII!! Sukhumvit soi si!! Taxi!” (He returned, flustered, and announced he had already “called us a taxi”, and it was waiting.)

Le Cafe Siam website

4. Dasa Book Cafe
Between Sukhumvit soi 26 and 28, on the main road. Nearest BTS station: Phrom Phong
(click for map)

Funky little used books store and cafe in a quiet area of Sukhumvit, run by an American expat. Fairly good selection of books, and good drinks at the cafe. A good place to unwind after a hectic day in downtown Bangkok.

Dasa Book Cafe website

5. Sunset Street
an alley in Khao San Road

Khao San Road, that famed budget travellers’ mecca, is for the most part loud and crass. Topless young white men. Topless young white men, drunk in mid-day. Hippies, children of hippies, young people behaving strangely with the aid of substances. I’ve commented more than once that KSR “perhaps has more white people than the whole of Sydney put together”.

Yet KSR is also lovely for several reasons: banana pancakes, and pad thai. And Sunset Street. To find it, just ask for directions to Starbucks (or Starfucks, as I will have it). There is a courtyard, a restored mansion that is now Kraichitti Gallery – the first time we were there, they had a photography exhibition by the Royal Siam Photographic Society; the second time, a photojournalist was having a hard-hitting exhibition on the subject of the Thai war on drugs. There are bars here where you may recover from the madness of KSR – and of course, Starfucks. And when you are done, you can walk towards Phra Athit Road to the pier (N13), and catch a boat – passing sights such as the Temple of Dawn (Wat Arun), radiant in dusk.

Credits and Disclaimers
No thanks to Dave for his helpful suggestions on how to part with as much baht as it was possible to!

I understand the above spots are indicative of a predilection towards what you may call yuppie sensibilities, but a short consultation with my mother will turn up alternative suggestions from her encyclopedic knowledge of Bangkok, if anyone is so inclined.

It will do every visitor to Bangkok much good to grab a copy of a Nancy Chandler map of Bangkok: it is The Map to have.

“When a man is tired of Bangkok, he is tired of life; for there is in Bangkok all that life can afford (drink and women, tomyum and tamsom).” – Adrianna Tan

Yesterday, at 2.30pm, a new member of our family was welcomed into the world:

Amelie, measuring 17″, 2Ghz G5 and 160GB, is the latest addition after siblings Roxette (12″ iBook) and Natasha (12″ PowerBook).