I was cleaning out my closet, literally, and I found my travel diary "Watch me write" from when I travelled through Thailand. "Through" is probably the wrong word to use however. I would use the term "parked up" as more descriptive of my time in Thailand. How nostalgic, how reminiscent, how wish-I-could-do-it-all-again. Below I share :)
Bangkok 2th June 2007
The Thai people are such lovely people. They have so little yet give so much and graciously with a big smile. How are some humans born like this and others from the west so different? Same, same but different? They laugh, joke with you and always want to help, we could learn a lot.
There is a little dirty kid playing in the gutter, I watch as I sit outside the palace. He has no shoes, his clothes are dirty and he has mud all over his face, but he is happy. He spots me from afar and runs to me. We play for a while, I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy. I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy, I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy.........and on and on we go until his mother appears from nowhere across the street yells at the boy and he bounds off. So completley happy with being entertained by something so small, a picture. Why? How does the happiness of things so small befall on others and mean so much yet not to us?
There is a little fat man out the window of my bus I watch with his fruit trolly he sells watermelon for 5 baht a slice. A pittance. This is his life yet he is so content, why? He smiles to every person he encounters...seemingly his connections to people are what matters the most, and with a push of his trolley................................he is gone. They are both gone, never to be seen again in this space I call "my life" yet have burnt images in my mind that will last forever.
I refuse to buy a watch. It is a constant constraint worn on you demanding you to be somewhere, with someone, doing something all of the TIME. I left the constraint of time behind in London.
Bangkok 2th June 2007
The Thai people are such lovely people. They have so little yet give so much and graciously with a big smile. How are some humans born like this and others from the west so different? Same, same but different? They laugh, joke with you and always want to help, we could learn a lot.
There is a little dirty kid playing in the gutter, I watch as I sit outside the palace. He has no shoes, his clothes are dirty and he has mud all over his face, but he is happy. He spots me from afar and runs to me. We play for a while, I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy. I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy, I take a photo, I show it to him and he squeels with joy.........and on and on we go until his mother appears from nowhere across the street yells at the boy and he bounds off. So completley happy with being entertained by something so small, a picture. Why? How does the happiness of things so small befall on others and mean so much yet not to us?
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I refuse to buy a watch. It is a constant constraint worn on you demanding you to be somewhere, with someone, doing something all of the TIME. I left the constraint of time behind in London.
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