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Wednesday, April 25, 2007

 

A journey of a thousand miles...

I have to admit it was a bit of a gamble.

Quitting my job before even applying for postgraduate studies was not an entirely comfortable thing to do, but circumstances were that I had to quit there and then or hold my peace forever.

And to top it off, brickbats were being hurled my way to throw me off course, by some rather irrational and small-minded individuals. Thankfully the greater sense of humanity prevailed and when I needed assistance, it was forthcoming and with much goodwill.

Come Sept or so I will be headed to Manchester to undertake a Msc Audio Acoustics at the University of Salford. My thought-process and methods of learning/perception are geared towards engineering (Get it? Gear-ed! Hmmm...not funny? Never mind.) while the overriding obsession in my life has been music. To me, this represents that first single step towards the union of my mechanical engineering training and musical distractions to become a bona-fide career choice.

Also, perhaps after studying there I can objectively determine the veracity of the saying that America and England are two continents separated by a common language. Stay tuned.

Friday, April 06, 2007

 

Walking By Myself

There I was, standing in the middle of Bangkok with an hour to kill. My companions had gone to get their hair dyed / bleached / treated or whatever it is people do to their hair that I wouldn’t bother with. It was 1100 hrs in the morning but the afternoon sun was already making its overwhelming presence felt. Steamy.

The whole place was new to me and I had no idea what to do, so I did what came naturally. I walked.

Down the street I went, further away from the touristy areas and right into the heart of the average Bangkok neighbourhood. First I stumbled upon a local marketplace, comprising of seemingly makeshift wooden structures that held up the canvas sheets to shade the hawkers underneath. Ducks and chickens quacked and clucked away beside an assortment of fruits, vegetables and meat, with the occasional loud squawk and flurry of wing-flapping whenever a transaction was being made. Live fishes splashed about in shallow pails that held more fish than water while next door, a huge wok brimming with oil sizzled with huge slabs of pork lard being fried. Scooters zoomed up and down the narrow passageway along which the stalls were lined up, weaving in and out among the crowd doing their marketing and throwing up clouds of dust and exhaust that somehow left the raw produce none the worse. In between the stalls, small charcoal pits roasted chicken and fish, adding to the smellscape (I’m sure the word exists) the fresh smells of barbecue, alongside the exhaust fumes and fishy scents.

I ambled along trying my best not to look like a confused tourist, while trying to avoid stepping into the brackish water that accumulated in potholes on the road. Eventually it was futile, for soon enough a scooter came along and ran across a puddle beside me, pretty much soaking my slipper-clad feet. Dressed in a non-descript T-shirt and faded bermudas, I’m pretty sure I would have blended in with the Thai crowd if not for the hat which shielded me from the relentless sun and the bottle of water in my hand, crucial for keeping myself hydrated.

Venturing further into the heart of the neighbourhood, I took a detour on a whim and walked into a small back alley, hoping to find a shortcut. It was barely 1.5m wide and flanked by modest single room urban dwellings crammed side by side, which probably housed a family each. A small drainage canal running through the middle of the alley branched off to the front of each home, where women gathered to do their laundry and chit-chat as their children played. Again similar charcoal pits were set up to roast chicken, spewing smoke which was blown by the wind onto the drying laundry of the home next door. The atmosphere was seemingly non-chalant however, as I walked through the groups of women and children with nary a glance cast at me. Maybe I was blending in pretty well after all.

By now I had no idea how far I had walked, but I knew I had a thirst to be quenched, so I popped into the first grocery store I saw and picked up a can of Chang.

Yi sib saam baht.”

Khorb khun kap.”

I popped open the can but paused for a moment before taking my first sip. Perhaps I should have wiped the top part of the can to make sure it was clean before opening it up.

A long, refreshing gulp set me straight after ignoring that thought.




Ahhhh…this is Bangkok.

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