Thailand

May 3–4, 2007

Bangkok was only on my itinerary as a transit point on the way from South Korea to Bhutan.

We had a day free from any flying, which we devoted to getting to know this hospitable land thoroughly.

The main Thai greeting (it’s called “wai”) looks a bit like as if the Soviet book and film character, a genie called Old Man Khottabych, were standing in front of you, ready to submit and obey. It makes you a bit uncomfortable, because people from the North aren’t used to the idea that somewhere in the world there still lives a people so stupid that they’re willing to serve white people for nothing. Each time they press their hands together and bow it makes you want to do something nice for them in return. Aside from this gesture, the Thais also say “sawatdii” (“hello”). This word has the same root as the word “swastika”, but of course here, just like everywhere else in Asia, this doesn’t bother anyone.

Wai! Ronald McDonald!

Everything is cheap as chips here. A massage costs next to nothing and you can get one on every street corner. The services of a hooker also cost next to nothing and are also available on every street corner. In Egypt, cabbies typically try to lure you into shops peddling subpar papyrus, whereas here it’s brothels.

The taxis here are predominantly pink.

It’s not clear why, but the pipes here rise up above ground level; they’re made up of an inexplicably diverse and multicoloured array of parts.

You can seek shelter from the sun under the power lines.

Local construction worker with shit on his shovel.

The architecture clearly served as inspiration for the creators of the cities in “Star Wars”.

The towers are mind-blowing. Both old.

And new.

Here everyone walks the other way round.

The utility poles rise up out of the water.

The canals are absolutely filthy.

The lock opens and rubbish, offcuts, food scraps, and gondolas drift smoothly on.

The telephone boxes are all different.

Energy drinks are sold in unusual containers.

This fire hydrant looks like a coca-cola dispenser.

* * *

Trendy and meaningless pictograms at the local airport leave us perplexed. All of the little airplanes indicate departures; the arrows direct you to zones and gates. They could’ve cut down on the little airplanes and the identical signs next to them — one of each is enough.