Observations of seven days in the capital of Thailand
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Bangkok is chaos. The whole city smells of sewage. Incense burns non-stop to mask the smells of hot cement soaked with urine, cigarettes, and the ubiquitous garbage. The infrastructure was built for a specific era and place many years ago, perhaps even earlier, but not for today. Thin railings line the winding escalators to the light rail. One wrong step and there is no turning back. So many people, crowding, running, smoking, shouting, sleeping, eating, selling, and moving. Nothing functions as it should here. Things are being built and rebuilt, in all directions, at all times of the day. If you are not persistent, this place will probably swallow you up.
But at least Bangkok is full of life.
My sister and her husband have been living in Singapore for a few years, but this is my first visit to the East. I planned a trip for the Lunar New Year, and a couple with some time on their hands suggested we head north to see the “true Asia.” Here in Thailand, I am experiencing what that looks like for the first time.
On a Wednesday night, the train to Ari Station is crowded, even at midnight. Masks are everywhere, a necessity in a city where pollution is so bad that during my weeklong stay, trains are free. In any other city, it would be an hour of solitude, but in Bangkok, the night is just beginning. There is an uneasy but exhilarating sense that here, no one has a reason to wake up in the morning – an eternal present. The train jolts, and the undulating crowd ebbs with it. A synchronized dance of survival. My sister laughs. I want to puke. She has seen it all – Kuala Lumpur, Nairobi, Ho Chi Minh City, Beijing. Her husband, a history professor from Finland, has decided to stay the night. “There are cities, and then there is Bangkok,” he confided to me as I struggled to hold on in a taxi from the airport. How right he was.
Speaking of airports, there are signs in the toilets that teach men how to write correctly. And yet, every toilet I come across in Thailand has a floor covered in urine. Bangkok is a city of tears and grime – dirty rivers, slums, tattered signs, tired women, and alleys that twist and turn until you get lost and can’t find the exit. It all makes me long for the shores of my homeland, across all the oceans, where (most) men still know how to write correctly, and (most) roads are paved with smooth asphalt, and (most) places smell of cedar, alfalfa, barbecue, and freedom.
My sister and I have found during our trip that it is better to get around Thailand without Google Maps. When it comes to food, follow the locals. If the tables are full, the food is good. That's it. We find an unnamed eatery in a dark alley and order roast beef, mixed greens, and two large Singha beers. The meal will cost less than
Sourse: theamericanconservative.com
