Asian Snapshots

*****

Thailand / Malaysia, February 2002

*****

I made it, here I am. It is hot. Took me 4 busses and a tuk-tuk to get
to my hostel, they really do not speak English. I asked the girl at the
hostel if they had a room and she motioned at me with a flapping palm
down gesture that in my experience has always meant "Shoo!" but she
meant "Follow me."

There is no way at all for me to blend in, but I'm dunking myself in
non-touristy places in Bangkok already and starting to be less nervous
about that. I mean, I was expecting to be agressed in or booted out of
local areas, but so far I have ridden public boats and walked through
the nastiest fish markets without astonishing anyone except myself.
Thais sell fish (turtles, squids, snakes, eels, insects) either alive
and kicking or else in the form and odor of roadkill. Me meanwhile, I
am very happy living on fruit muesli yogurt in the morning and pad thai
in the evening. Pad thai costs $1.50. My nice big room with double bed,
private toilet/shower, and balcony costs $8 / night. And the hostel
atmosphere is really nice. I can tell the time of day by the smell in
my room: in the morning it has no smell, in the afternoon it smells
like cooking, in the night it smells like all kinds of food, and in the
middle of the night it smells slightly of sewage.

The Thai language is of course unlearnable, but while failing to learn
it I learn lots of interesting ideas about languages in general. First,
the fact that they have a totally different alphabet is funny for two
reasons: a) you can't keep in your mind more than one symbol at a time,
it's like if you wanted to read the word "truck" but you could only see
the form "t" and all words that started with "t" looked the same and
had no sound; b) they write really long road signs and I don't know why
they bother because even if you could read it it would obviously take
an hour. Sometimes they print things in our alphabet to help us, but
that's not a great help because they spell the same word completely
randomly different on different signs. As for speaking Thai, I've
understood that most gender agreement is about the speaker and not the
spoken of or to person or thing. So the phrase for "Thank you" actually
means "Thank you AND I am a man!" I thought that was hilarious until I
decided it meant more like "The MAN says thank you," which is what I
mean anyway.

I visited temples today. As I was walking to the first one, all the
tuk-tuk drivers told me it was closed and offered to take me to visit
something else. I had been warned about this, but they were so good at
the lie, they all had the same reason and gave the same opening time, I
was almost convinced. I was not smart enough to extrapolate that if
they were lying to me about the temple's hours they might also be lying
about the temple's location, so I had a long walk. The temple itself
was complex and ornate. I'm not sure how they can be introspective
among so many colors. The second temple had a massage parlour though,
that was very introspective.

*****

Well, yesterday took my trip to a whole new level: amazing. And it was
only my second full day.

First I went and had a second massage at Wat Pho, and I was fascinated
by all the mental and physical differences between a
first-in-a-long-while massage and a second-day-in-a-row one. And there
were all sorts of other factors that could have made it different
besides the fact that I had just had one the day before: much less
stress about this city, different masseuse, jet-lag fading, you name
it.

Then I thought I would go into Chinatown. I was picturing like an
American or European Chinatown, with dim sum and baubles. Well if there
was that I never found it. After about 4 blocks of the smoggiest
noisiest streets (crossing light not invented here I notice), I turned
into an alley and found myself basically in a garbage dump with aisles.
Take me, I am the least hygienic person I know: I don't shower every
day, I shave every ten, I wear the same clothes for a week in the
winter, I eat again and again off the same plate without washing it, I
eat food that's two weeks past expiration date, and so on. Well this
neighborhood was beyond my understanding, it was so foul. And I was
terrified of everything the whole time, not too scared of being mugged
or anything, just very worried that someone would offer me something or
give me some instruction and I wouldn't understand, and that while
trying to look friendly I would catch the plague. They were cooking and
eating on the ground, and being very handy with all sorts of things,
motorcycles, car stereos, clothing. And they had all sorts of things
for sale that I couldn't imagine making a living from. Under the Eiffel
Tower they sell gorilla penis keychains, now that is something about
1/4 of tourists think is funny enough to buy. But where is the fun in a
needle threader? Who would buy that more than once? And is there a coin
small enough to pay for that? Do they think needle threaders and
tweezers are disposable? How can these things be for sale in such
quantities?

Then, just as I was figuring that in my mind this was what India looked
like, and reunderlining my intention NEVER to go to India, suddenly I
was in India, Indiatown I guess. And all through this walk as I was
trying not to inhale or meet anyone's look (because I was alone, see,
makes a HUGE difference to how comfortable you feel in a strange place,
I'm realizing) I was noticing some of the most remarkable faces I have
ever seen, Indian, Chinese, mixtures of that if you can imagine. And
yeah, I'm saying the neighborhood was pretty disgusting and scary to
me, but that doesn't mean I wasn't loving it. I was having the time of
my life. I mean, it wasn't television, for one thing. I made it
eventually back to the hostel and washed my hands with soap, which
believe it or not is something I never, ever do except in the shower.
So you can see how unusual the whole adventure was for me.

I took a nap until about 10pm and then decided to hit Khao San Road to
have a few beers and do some writing. But, as I'm heading out, the girl
who runs the Ayuthaya Hostel was closing up and she said did I want to
go out with her? These hostel girls are terrible flirts 24/7, which is
longer than it's fun, but they're cute enough. So I said sure. Turns
out the girl who runs the neighboring hostel (actually she runs this
net cafe) is also coming with two friends and two farangs (Europeans).
So all seven of us got taken to real Thai clubs! There were 4 white
people in the whole crowd, me, an Italian guy, an Irish girl and some
other guy we saw who wasn't with us. It was so fun and funny. There was
a live band onstage playing songs of an utter insipidity but nice and
loud, and then the room was all tables like a restaurant. So everyone
was standing up dancing next to their seats, there was no dance floor.
There were tons of hot girls, but I seemed to be the marked territory
of my host and I myself decided to declare my love for the other girl
(the one behind me at the moment). This was a great move because as the
property of one and the admirer of the other I can hover between
without doing anything more shall we say confusing, with these girls
who are waiting on me and cooking for me like hostel girls are supposed
to do. So it was a carefree and delightful time. So much cooler than
what the French guys I met are doing, getting drunk at farang bars and
bringing home whores.

And then the evening ended with the Italian guy inviting me to have a
beer with him (which made me safe from my host), and I spoke Italian
for an hour. I thought I had forgotten what Italian I knew from last
year, but it turns out I speak Italian better than ever. So basically,
I kick ass.

*****

From Bangkok I went to this island called Ko Chang. It may be the Thai
territory farthest to the East, in the Gulf just under the Thai /
Cambodia border. This is the real beach stuff I came to enjoy, although
it is a bit cheesy. I am living in a bungalow in a bungalow patch. All
around are other European tourists, almost exclusively German and
British and other Northerners, although I did see a French family and
some American girls in the taxi, they must have gone to a quieter beach
down the coast, and maybe I should have.

The ride out here from Bangkok was hellish, cramped in a minivan with a
fever for 5 hours. Transportation here is very cheap and easy to
arrange, and then pretty hellish to endure. Then we took a boat to the
island and I noticed a funny phenomenon: The natural scope of the eyes
was the water. The waves were moving directly opposite the boat's
direction, so from the reference of the water it looked like we were
advancing very quickly, but the body's inertia register compensated for
this illusion and overrode the eyes' message of high speed. Now, if you
suddenly raised your eyes to the mountains, the mind's compensatory
equation took a moment to delete, and since the mountains were
stationary, you had the conviction that the boat was very suddenly
moving backwards. It gave you tickles in the stomach. It seemed to have
a moral later: "Don't judge your progress by the current along your
path, but by the mountains of your destination." Amen.

My bungalow gives a whole new meaning to the expression about shitting
in your own backyard. I guess the proverb says to not do that, but here
clearly you are supposed to, out under the moon. And standing up at
that. As I was cooling off at the restaurant with a beer, the Thai guy
serving me asked me about my guitar and if I wanted to hear his friends
play that night. So I said sure and took a nap. That night he took me
along with a girl collegue of his to a bar across the street, where a
sort of live karaoke thing was going on. You picked one of the songs of
their book and the band played it for you to sing. I sang Bob Marley,
and I thought that since it was a live band and not a recording I could
take some liberties in my performance and they would follow me - false.
Meanwhile the guy who brought me was professing a greater and greater
friendship for me, assuring me that he had maybe about 4 friends in the
world like myself. I didn't mind that, and he told me some strange
stories about his mother and his military service, we had a good time.
Towards the end the guitarist started doing these sort of lap dances
where we were supposed to admire his guitar real close while he was
soloing, and sort of bang our heads in ecstasy, that was another first
for me.

Then around 1am the Thai friend says he has to go to bed and confers
the girl on me since I say I want to walk down the beach. I don't want
her, I have nothing to say to her, a bit awkward and boring. Then it
starts to rain and I'm glad because it makes us turn back. Suddenly
there's this whirring sound coming from the sea and the girl says
"Run!" because a storm is coming in. We take shelter in this pavillion
with some Swiss guys, a French guy, and a very friendly Swedish girl
called Maria. She had that awful gift of persuading every guy present
that she would eventually be his. She's a Swedish go-go dancer from
Italy, e per questo. So I have decided to call her Courtesana and be in
love with her for 24 hours just like everyone else. Aside from
providing the thrill of meeting such a sex symbol, the fortuitous rain
gave me a glimpse of far better bungalows than mine, so I hope to move
tomorrow.

The rain stopped and I and the girl I'd accepted to chaperone walked
home and were followed by a dog. I said goodnight and went to write in
my bungalow. About 10 minutes later there was a scratching on my door
and I was afraid it was the girl but it was just the dog. I told him to
go away, I don't know why he wanted to come in. 10 minutes later there
was more scratching and this time it was the girl. She said, "I come
inside now?" "My friend locked the door where I sleep", she says. I
told her my door was locked too. I mean how stupid, lonely, or sexually
frustrated does she think I am? She may be right I'm stupid, maybe I
signed up for something when I said she could follow me down the beach.
But she was good diversion earlier for the French guy while I was
looking at Courtesana's long thick blond naked upper thigh. Yes I would
rather dream about pretty girls than sleep with plain ones, am I a
snob, or a loser, or a coward, or a child?

Now the dog is back scratching again. I'm moving to another bungalow
tomorrow, I'm too popular here.

*****

Back in Bangkok, disposed to discourse. Not necessarily able to be as
coherent as I want to be. Aside from Red Bull and my own bull, this
trip makes me feel the need to get stuff moment by moment clearer than
it really can be gotten, so please don't take anything I may manage to
write as the final Truth, it's all just a hello and a bit of a
thermometer. I sure felt very different yesterday, and I hope I feel
different again tomorrow.

Now I'm going to give out a bit about Ko Chang because I did not have a
great time in Ko Chang.

Three qualifiers:
1) I did have some fun;
2) not really loving it was my own fault;
3) I was on the worst beach of Ko Chang.

Now maybe I can tell it bad stuff first and good stuff after. First bad
issue was that I was sick when I arrived and for the first 3 days. This
made me a bit dismal and not able to really get my feet under me to get
the most out of the place. Beside that, I was really wanting to party
on Ko Chang, in view of upcoming Lent next week, I wanted to be social
and drunk and so forth, so I chose the most cliche beach for that to
happen. This is where I feel like I made a naive error, imagining that
I would have the best parties in the place everyone went for the best
parties. It was exactly like going to a discotheque alone: you might
get lucky but mostly it's just a lame idea. I couldn't write much, I
could hardly ever play the guitar, and I couldn't really bond with
anyone. When I was sick I thought I was antisocial because I was sick,
and afterward I did get basically to the social heart of the beach for
a day or two, before backing off and feeling pretty lost and low.

On the good side, the beach and sea were gorgeous, and I started a nice
tan. I was hit on and invited around (by people who had nothing in
common with me). I had a couple late nights and participated in the
music a bit, and I got over my little flu. One of the best moments
really was leaving Ko Chang for a day of mainland errands and then
coming back to it as a possessor and not just as an insecure novice.
And I suppose overall the benefit was learning even in a sort of
painful way what kind of person I am NOT, and what I did NOT come to
Thailand for.

There's more to it than all that, more general stuff about what this
trip means to me and is doing to me. This trip is hard core for me, not
just because I don't automatically know how to handle 3rd world strange
Asia, but because I don't know what I am doing with myself in the long
run. Being here strips me of really every drug or support I was aware
or unaware of between subsistence and existence: no tv, no computer,
soon no liquor, these were just trivial stilts across my shit, but no
friends? no language? no experience? These were way more vital sources
/ obstacles than I knew. It is so hard to be really alone with one's
self; hard as in difficult to acheive and difficult to endure. Perhaps
the value of experiencing real solitude is to subsequently be stronger
and richer among others. It would be very healthy and powerful (and
pretty rare among humans) to just be and act in terms of one whole
unified person, to totally eliminate sometimes the constant disruptive
discourse between the one Joshua and his friends, his enemies,
everyone, his projected images of himself and others, his wishes, his
disappointments and fears, his internal and external heroes and rivals.
So being here is about that.

There are other epiphanies, some related to Asia and others coming
simply from the time and obligation I have to ponder myself more often.
Before leaving Bangkok I came up with my own assessment of Buddhism,
basically amputated the 'ism' part and came to my own theories about
internal peace and the understanding of one's place in space/time. I
disagree that ideal happiness is a state of understanding; that if you
"get it" you have "arrived" or "acheived" absolutely. There's probably
no end of things to "get", and either way I insist that advancing along
up a pinnacle of deep comprehension, with all the love and forgiveness
and special sensitivity that climb little by little provides, with all
understanding's strength and patience, is only half the point of
existence. The other half is actually doing something, carrying things
out, which so many people more or less devoid of insight are doing with
no dramatic fears or motivation. And also I'm realizing that there are
many more things I want to be which I am not than I had previously
thought. I look and think all the time for a solution to this age
thing, how to stay young and grow up at the same time. And showering in
a room with no hot water, no light, and no hooks challenges a wide
variety of trivial convictions. It's a moment by moment mind-blower,
this place.

But the intensity helps me learn lessons only once or twice each, then
I figure it out. I continue my trip now to the elbow of the elephant's
trunk, just North of Phuket. I think I may have found a place where the
bungalows are more than one meter apart and there is no music but my
own. I will do some diving and some other active communing with nature,
and above all I will not feel pressured by cheesy local expats whose
victories are behind them to join in the celebration of that
self-satisfaction which I have not yet attained (and never really
expect to). I'm going to see what happens if I write for 8 hours in one
day. I'm going to see if total isolation makes me stop talking to
myself.

And then depending on the results of these experiments I might poke my
nose into Burma and Malaysia, or not and simply see if I can apply
self-discipline in other locations. So keep on you wishing me well and
I will strive and absorb and travail and penetrate. Woo woo!

*****

Travelling from Bangkok to Khao Lak required 2 days, 2 minivans, 3
buses, one taxi and 2 motorcycle taxis. I can't get over the variety of
transportation here, every example of which seems like it was put
together yesterday from spare parts and will fall apart by the end of
the week. I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to take a motorcycle
taxi with my huge backpack and guitar, but this didn't phase the driver
in the least. I spent the second night in Patong on Phuket, which was
just as sleezy as advertised. The next time a whore grabs me I'm going
to say, "Sure baby, how much will you pay me?" Maybe that will put her
off.

Poseidon Bungalows here in Khao Lak are divine on the other hand. It is
very different from Ko Chang, fewer people, more wilderness. Sometimes
I'm the only one in the ocean. I spent the first two days reading
Dickens in my bungalow. I signed up for a 3 day snorkeling boat trip at
the end of this week. Today I finally moved around a bit and did stuff
I can't do just anywhere. First I rented a motorbike for this purpose.
It came with a helmet, which might as well have said "tourist" on it, I
was the only one wearing one. I was also one of the few wasteful riders
taking up a whole bike by myself; here the motorbike is a family
vehicle, good for at least three passengers with groceries.

After some errands and exploring, I headed into the jungle to the Chong
Fa waterfall, leaving the beach area for the first time. The first fun
was that after I paid the access fee, the road suddenly fell apart into
a very rocky and ridgy dust track, a big challenge to bike along (more
for the bike than for me). Eventually I couldn't bike anymore and
started to hike in on a foot path. Two people were leaving as I went
in, after that I saw no one. For awhile the path was a path, but then
it started to be a steep trail sort of up the side of the waterfall
(which was just a trickle). I thought I couldn't go on until I realized
that I was supposed to use these vines for rappelling and swinging
around. There weren't any stunning vistas or big animals, but climbing
around in the jungle solo was great and I sweated more than I think I
ever have in the heat and effort.

Even when not in the jungle, nature is omnipresent in Thailand in a way
I've never seen. Of course there is plant growth everywhere, flowers
and pineapples and deadly coconuts that fall like anvils. There are
insects that are not only in uncomfortable abundance but in fascinating
variety, most surprising are these huge flying beetles that clumsily
crash into you making you think another diner just threw a piece of his
dinner on you. There are spiders that make webs about 2 meters across.
There are lots of lizards outside and inside, I saw some so big I
couldn't believe they stuck to the wall. Crabs make paisley spitball
patterns on the the beach and in the water you can see starfish and
sting rays, jellyfish and swimming crabs, and fish. The other day I was
leaving the restaurant by bridge over this little mudflat and the tide
was just coming in. I decided something would probably happen as the
water suddenly covered the little silty patch. As the first ripples
came on, some little fish jumped out of holes in the mud onto rocks to
sun themselves. I told them they were fish, they were supposed to be
glad the water was back, but they just tried to stay dry. I didn't see
any elephants or monkeys because these animals were part of land
excursions and I was sticking mostly to the beach. There were many
semi-domestic animals, but I didn't see a single Siamese cat.

*****

I went as planned to visit some of the 8 dive centers that are on this
block, and I started thinking, "Snorkling? Forget that!?" And I signed
myself up instead to pass PADI Open Water Scuba Diving Course.

Yeah so Monday this Thai guy who does all the runaround stuff named Oti
picked me up in... a pick-up truck. He was playing Fatboy Slim on the
tape deck so it was a really good start. By the way, I'm still proving
again and again for the millionthes times that the blues can't usually
stick past motion and good music.

First part of class was the video and classroom stuff. I was pretty tv
starved so I watched the video even though it was hella boring because
I had read the whole book over the weekend. Anyway, it was tv and it
had cartoons in it and really goofy tunes. The only other thing I
really liked about the video was thinking how glad I was that my
instructor was NOT American and was therefore not going to give me high
fives and say "Yeah!" all the time like in the film.

My instructor is actually Belgian, very nice. I realized from talking
to him that dive masters are always cool not just because you have to
be cool to dive and teach diving, but because the money's not that good
and they travel all around to catch different seasons. The first
afternoon we went in a swimming pool and did great exercises that made
me feel much more at ease than I was in Cozumel the first time. I got
so comfortable doing tricks without my regulator like losing-finding
and buddy-breathing, that I twice believed I could breathe underwater
without it (I couldn't though).

And today we worked in the sea. It was more of an exercise site than a
pretty one, it was way less pretty than Cozumel, but there wasn't that
wicked current, so I could hang around and look at stuff and
concentrate on bouyancy and whatever else. I took off my mask and swam
around and put it back on. And there was still lots of wildlife: big
spiny lobsters, eels and morays, lionfish and other fish. The great
thing is just to feel so at home under there. (My instructor likes
diving in cold dark lifeless quarries best because he feels so at home.
I don't know if I would bother.) Tomorrow we are going to dive around a
wreck.

And in general I am so happy and comfortable here in Khao Lak. Finally.
I think it's totally normal to take a week or two to feel a bit at ease
in such a strange place as this, now, but I was sure hard on myself at
the beginning. I have only one week left. So I can stay and dive more
or I can run around and try to find other new homes and spend some
hours in other countries mostly just to say I did. Or I could do a bit
of both? I don't know.

In other good news, I'm in full Lent swing now, so I'm not smoking or
drinking and feeling pretty fine about that. I don't think too much
about wanting those things, but I knew I shouldn't come into town for
dinner on my scooter because I would never make it home and then I
realized "Wait! I'll be sober so I will!" Today I feel like I could do
just about anything.

Biking home at night is a palette for the nose, all smells good and bad
are stronger here than where I come from. The cooking food smells like
you're already eating and the refuse near the cooking food is so awful
you are more surprised than nauseated. The toilets and sometimes the
tap water smell like they've been irrevocably used, and most shops and
hotels have burning incense and balms. But the best smell of all is
between the jungle and the sea at night, where warm flowery musty air
from the dense plant growth exhales into the fresh clear sea air, you
can smell it with your nose and with your skin even.

*****

I have been having an incredible week under the ocean. The writing and
singing have taken a big back seat and I feel a little guilty about
that, but I couldn't force it. Instead I have gotten certification to
scuba dive and am now getting advanced certification. I saw leopard
sharks and eels and lobsters and all kinds of fish. The cream on the
cake should be tomorrow, we will swim with manta rays. Then Saturday we
dive at night.

The other plus about diving is that it gets me purposefully meeting
good people. It gives me an identity in a group. If you had told me
that was important to me last month, I would have thrown something at
you, I am Mr. Independent Solitude. In fact, I know I still have that
guy in me. But in a strange place after a few weeks it feels good to be
somebody to other people, to easily get into conversations with people
who've done lots of interesting stuff, and who are interested in my
stuff. Today I had the chance to exchange some good views on Asia,
America, Europe, to think and express stuff with people, it feels
good.

And one of the most interesting conversations I had was with a guy
who's been teaching English and Drama in an international high school
in Phuket and is leaving the position in August. I am totally qualified
for that position. So why the hell not, right? I will look into these
sorts of ways of moving around the planet. I'll keep my Paris flat as
long as I can, and I may well apply for nationality in France and in
some other EU countries, why the hell not too? But I got all excited
about teaching literature and directing shows here with a group of kids
from all over. Of course I realize that this job isn't as good as EF
because I can't flirt with the young students, but hey, eventually, I
will have a real lover again, presumably. With this teacher guy we also
talked about Conrad and Dickens and so forth, damn after not saying
more than 3 words to anyone for 3 weeks, it's pretty nice to have an
intellectual chat. This trip will have taught me that anyway, because I
was pretty aloof about that stuff before. This trip will have taught me
tons, most of the lessons I've learned before and will have to learn
again, but as long as I can learn them on travels and in the ocean I
can't say I mind.

*****

After 10 days I had to leave Khao Lak. It was a very difficult decision
whether to return up to Bangkok for my flight out, or to cover new
territory South and enter Malaysia on land and get to Kuala Lumpur for
my connection. I feel good here in Thailand, and know how to handle
Bangkok, the trip has been about this place. But having at last become
at ease here in general makes me want to see new stuff, and I think
taking a 4-day trip down the penninsula is the brave and exciting thing
to do.

Nonetheless it is with great regret that I will leave the beach, so my
first stop is still at seaside, Krabi, about 3 hours South of Khao Lak.
I made a lucky choice of lodgings, far from the crowds and very cheap.
To get to the Andaman Inn from downtown I take a pick-up truck and then
a longtail boat. When you have to take skinny motor boat and splash
barefoot through the surf to get to your bungalow, you know you picked
a good one. This bungalow is by far the biggest I've yet had, it has
about 6 square meters of floor space next to the bed, and a bathroom
and shower. And it is right on the beach, although the tidal flats are
so shallow and populated with marine life that it isn't easy to
swim.

*****

The next stop on the way South is Hat Yai, with a reputation as a
fast-moving bordertown with lots of shopping. That's pretty accurate.
Unfortunately the goods for sale aren't very good souvenirs, they're
mostly department store stuff and appliance shops, gold and jewelery,
all pretty industrial. I was almost convinced I needed a DVD player for
$100, but finally I came to my senses, deciding to move here soon
rather than carrying a DVD player all the way to Paris. Because cable
is cheaper here too.

Now I am in an internet caf? with 8 yelling kids and a transvestite.
It's funny to see so many computer heads in such a simple environment,
to see these kids I can't understand playing the same strategy games
(in English they don't understand) I play at home on my Mac.

The best part of Hat Yai was dinner. Most of the restaurants are
Chinese, and I had seen some with menus in English or with pictures, I
figured I'd end up there. But across from the internet place was a
restaurant with only locals in it, and after scoping it for awhile I
decided I could handle it. It was a dim sum place, and there was no
ordering involved. All the possible portions are in dishes and baskets
out front. To get your food, you don't even speak, you just start
grabbing things you want and pushing them at the woman behind the
counter. She stacks them all up 3 feet high and pushes them to the
steamer guy, and you sit down and wait. As I was eating, some Asians
around looked at me and smiled because white people I guess are unusual
here, and for the first time that didn't make me uncomfortable or
paranoid, and I really wish I didn't have to go home.

*****

I have to go back to Paris tomorrow and I am thereof so sad!

I have been laughing all day about these Asians' version of English.
Thais say a funny thing a lot which at first I thought was just a joke:
"Same same! but different!" I think it comes from them wanting to
always agree with people even when the people are obviously clueless
about a simple thing. It's like if you ask "Is this a shirt?" and they
say "Yes" and then you hold up some pants and say "Is this the same
thing?" then they say "Same same. But different." Means, "Very good! It
is also cloth! But don't put pants over your head." Here in Malaysia
they don't seem to have their own writing characters at all, use
Chinese and ours, not mixed in sentences but both used all over. So
suddenly I can read words again, sound them out and remember them, but
it's amazing how many words they can make that mean nothing to me. If I
were looking at a sign in Greek even, I would see lots that meant
nothing, but maybe one word in 30 would remind me of a word I know, and
I'd try to reconstruct. Here there is only one word at all I recognize
fine: "air", which means "water". Good thing I didn't try to learn
scuba here. Last language story, today I took a train and then a boat
and when I got off the boat I didn't really know where I wanted to go,
whether I wanted to spend the night here or not even. People are ALWAYS
asking you where you are going so they can take you there and charge
you, it's really annoying, so I got rid of all those guys and decided
to check my bag in storage while I was figuring things out. The storage
guy asked me where I was going, and I told him I didn't really know,
and I looked pretty vague and planless. He solved my whole dilemma by
saying, "Round round?", and I laughed and said "Exactly! Round round!"
and I did. And this town was cool enough to spend the night in, and I
so much wish to show you all the different places I've seen.

Penang is an island that has one city, Georgetown, and several beach
villages that are turning into resorts. The history of the place is
fascinating; the George in question is England's George III, the one
that lost the US. It was colonized by the British and their method in
the 19th century seems to have been this: you have to show some respect
to the locals, but you don't have to share your profits with them;
meanwhile, you can bring in other colonized races to do the heavy work
and administrate. So the original town had six streets: four parallel
streets, one for the Brits, one for the Malays, one for the Chinese,
and one for the Indians; plus a beachfront street, and in back a street
for each culture's place of worship. Segregation was not enforced, but
it was just natural that each race would be most comfortable and able
to carry out their specific duties living in blocks. I kept thinking it
was just like a farm: cows have stalls together and they give milk and
go back and forth to pasture and eat grass, horses have stalls away
from the cows and they pull plows and wagons and eat oats, the farmer
lives in a house apart and makes the animals run in an organized way
and supervises their food intake and basic health. Penang Island was
just like that, except the animals were people.

Now of course the settlement has grown into a modern city. The races
move and live where they please, which is still mostly in homogenous
neighborhoods, although I found out in fact that for the last 50 years
since decolonization the Malays have special rights beyond other races
in terms of taxes and political power, one guide book called it
apartheid. The street with everyone's temple on it hasn't changed, and
it's incredible to walk along past an Anglican church, a Chinese
temple, a Hindu temple, a mosque, all in a row.

Walking around the town is a trick because each patch of sidewalk is
part of the building it fronts, so it may be a different level than its
neighbors, or even walled off. On the outside of a side walk is an open
sewer system where I saw no excrement but certainly everything else, so
when the sidewalk gets too rough you have to cross the sewer, weave
around some parked cars, and then walk in the street dodging traffic
from the right. And by the way during this whole month I figured out
that Asians think honking the horn is a recreation more than a warning:
BEEP means "Look out I'm going to hit you!" sometimes, but it could
also mean, "Look out a different moped is going to hit you!", "I know
that guy over there!", "Hello tourist want a ride?" or "My truck has a
horn." So it's hard to know when to jump and which way.

I walked across town to the skyscraper they call Komtar. It's got a
panoramic view at the top, and a shopping center at the bottom. I
wandered through the super market thinking which things I would and
wouldn't eat if I lived here. French wine costs a lot, unfortunately. I
saw some sausages that looked just like French ones and I wanted them,
so I asked an employee if I could eat them as they were. She said no,
and I asked again and she said, "Can NOT." I put them back. I figure if
a Chinese person says it can't be eaten, it really would kill you,
because they'll eat anything. I had gathered that jellyfish were the
only sea animal they don't consume, and then I saw jellyfish in the
grocery store for sale on sticks like lolly pops. I saw birdnest soup
for sale in the street, but I didn't eat that either.

I had heard there were rats, but I had forgotten about them until I saw
a rat with a 9 inch body come out to do some errands around 9pm and
visit all his neighbors on the way. The abundance of cats and dogs in
the streets doesn't seem to bother the rats at all; on the contrary,
the rats are just another dirty but harmless plague-carrying
semi-domestic breed. Most humans are eating in the street at night with
rats running around their feet, and later I even saw the rats carrying
on with business in the day. More to make conversation than to express
concern I asked a shopkeeper if the rats came inside. She said only
small ones (by which I thought she meant mice) and she showed me candy
bars from the lower shelves that had gone to rodent clients. So I said,
"OK, but the big ones don't come in your room and get you at night?"
and she said "No, big ones are for outside only." As I was going to bed
I saw a cat at work by my room so I felt secure, and in the morning I
saw that the woman was right because the dead rat in the hallway wasn't
that big, about 9 inches including tail.

Well I'll go to sleep now, take some last pics in the morning. Then I
have a 5 hour bus ride, a 2 hour wait, a 2 hour bus ride, a 2 hour
wait, and a 12 hour flight. I'll get to Paris fresh and clean. By the
way, did you know that deodorant isn't just to keep you from stinking
between showers, but contains something that actually makes you more
clean than showers do? It'll take me a week of using deodorant again
before I stop smelling juicy.

*****

Back in Paris my life isn't boring either (had my first hot shower in a
month). But I'm frustrated because the human mind, even one as big as
my own, cannot compass the diversity we may experience. In Thailand,
Paris was a distant memory within 2 days. I could consult it slowly
like a thick book, but I couldn't easily recreate the feeling of being
here. Now it's the same thing about Thailand from here, the personal
rhythm and character I made to go along with Asia mostly evaporates
before it can even be tested here. I am in fact changed, stretched,
enriched, certainly. But I am not what I was when I was there, or maybe
I'm the same components in a different order, that's the closest I can
describe it. And on less egocentric subjects it's no easier. I have
always told tourists to keep in mind that Europe exists and continues
while they are back in America, but that is really hard to do in any
profound way. It is very difficult to call to mind a street or city or
person from There and at the same time keep my eyes open to Here. Maybe
with practice. I know it's important. It's important for everyone
because a good citizen of the planet has a broad scope of insight and
experience on it. It's important specifically for me because the
distinction between Home and Abroad is only getting blurrier these
days.

*****