Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Silly farang

Morning Troops,

just thought I'd check in from downtown Kanchanaburi for some quiet time, just you and me. Its officially day six of the teenage rockin' road trip and it already feels like a month in both a good and a bad way. I entered this trip thinking I was prepared but I'm not and I guess I'm a little bit surprised by that. Every nuance you take for granted in either language or custom has to be thrown from a large bulding and then set alight AND then have its ashes scattered to the seven corners of the earth. I'm speaking honestly here because even though I've been cultivating a laid back attitude and an easy smile, being a tourist is hard work. And I am a tourist because in the places we are, Thailand has cultivated a tourist culture and no matter how much you try to get around it I'm still deep fried farang (tourist). That said all my interactions have been lovely except for a few in Bangkok where they could spot a jetlagged farang with sucker tattooed on his forehead from about the five kilometres away.* How an early morning walk around the streets ended up in a expensive boat ride tour of the river in the tiny boat of death, I'll never know. As I gripped the sides as the water slammed around the boat and I questioned my mortality, I could smile when I thought of the guys who organised the trip high fiving and celebrating a very good pay day.

But that said, its nice to be walking around and everywhere you look is somewhere new, curious or weird. There are those strange cross cultural crossovers like being in a night market and hearing PJ Harvey being played really loudly - on closer inspection it was on the soundtrack to a badly Thai dubbed Samual L Jackson movie playing on a big tv of a pirate dvd stall. I'm still counting the levels of irony in watching a bit of Lost in translation in Thai. The two hightlights thus far have been the Erawan Fall outside Kanchanaburi which seven levels of waterfalls which cascade into clear blue water filled with fish that kiss your toes. Did I say kiss? That's what a guide told us, more like eat your toes but even that was beautiful in a disconcerting way. The other thing I enjoyed was the freedom of bike riding. I was bit too chicken shit to ride in Sydney but my childhood love the bike has returned. I think I looked good, seeing the sights, wind blowing in my hair, sweat pouring from me in the mild 36 degree humidity. I dig it. Everything else, the bull ant invasion of our toilet in the night, crazy backpackers etc has been fun fun fun.

Anyhow, in that way of not sounding like a patronising tourist, the thing I love about Thailand is that some of it is kind of ramshackle, an OH&S accident never quite happening but it is contained within a culture of order and reverence. Superficially (and I can only be superficial being a tourist) the Thai people ascribe meaning and ritual to every part pf their life which is a stark relief to Australia where nothing means anything unless the individual is ok (I blame John Howard of course - fucker!). I guess I feel this double when I see tourists have little interest or want of understanding the Thai people, they just want cheap beer and tshirts. Did I mention beer is cheap and tshirts are like $5! Silly farang.

Today Ruth and I are off to Ayutthaya, the old capital. So I'll try and think of something meaningful to write then. Laters. Postcards are coming, promise (non-core).

* by the way, even though there is only three hours time difference, I get jet lagged travelling from NSW to QLD during daylight saving. Lightweight, total lightweight.

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