One year ago today

I was getting on a plane in the Bangkok international airport to start my journey home (by way of Taipei, Taiwan, and Los Angeles).

I have such a strange perception of time in regard to my Thailand memories. On the one hand, it feels like the memories are from some far-off vacuum in history that happened only in my mind. It has no context, no past, and no future. It is simply an unfamiliar existence.

But then on the other hand, I have such vivid memories of my time there - mostly triggered by smells, sounds, tastes, and photographs - that it feels very organic and real. Burning leaves, car exhaust, and incense (but only certain kinds) take me back to Hua Hin like it was yesterday. Sticky, breathless heat, and colorful neon lights affixed to signs the size of multi-story buildings will always make me feel like I'm at the night market.

Stray dogs and pad thai. Horrifyingly large insects. The smell of salt wafting in from the ocean. Waking to the soft sound of waves on the beach at 7 AM. Gritty sand in every crevice. Sunburns. 7-11. Roti. Dirty feet (and not caring). Yellow polo shirts. King Bhumibol (Rama IX). Elephants. Squat toilets. Complete lack of respect for intellectual property rights. Having dinner for $0.70. Having dinner for $8.00 and feeling deeply ripped off. Noisy European tourists. Germans in speedos. Unbelievably beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent, and genuinely kind Dutch women. Soccer at Nino's. Nino's. Poker with the kitchen staff fueled by copious amounts of Thai whiskey or Sambuca. Drunken stumbles down the road to VIP. Drunken skinny-dipping in the side pool of VIP at 2 AM. Drunkenness. Dancing. Crowded Thai clubs. Crazy Thai people. Amazing Thai people. Friendly Thai people. Hard-working Thai people. Thai people. Thailand.


My feelings about Thailand are best illustrated through my memories. They are all I have.

I sometimes wonder if maybe I made a mistake with staying at Webster. It's worth considering, after all I am being charged exorbitant amounts of money for an education that is arguably on par with universities that charge substantially less for it. However, at some point in these musings, I always come back to Thailand, and realize that it was all worth it. Had I not gone to Webster, there is absolutely no way I would have gone to Thailand. Perhaps I would never have gone there later in life, either.

Such a thought is an abhorrence.

When I say I want to go back, I mean it. I will go back. And I will stay for as long as I need to. It's a need. I can't even describe the distinct feeling of home I had while I was there. When I left it, even for a weekend in Cambodia, I felt a longing for it. When I left Bangkok a year ago, I don't think I realized how permanent that end really was. No matter how many times I return or for how long I stay, it will never be quite the same as that Spring at Webster University Thailand. Living in a shithole with a bunch of crazy and amazing people while trying to pass our classes and learn something about the world.

I'd say we were fairly successful.