A Farang's Playground

On a tour from Kanchanaburi, some 2-3 hours west of Bangkok, close to its border with Myanmar, I was "fortunate" enough to have been part of a group of 12 caucasian tourists, and I was the only Asian. On our way home, a loquacious British girl suddenly realized that her "beige bag" wasnt with her. After asking if the said bag was anywhere in the van, she started to shout, "Am gonna throw up!!!" So, the driver pulled over at the curb of the road. I reached for the latch and opened the door as I was seated nearest it. We all went down.

Though I understand her being upset, and I absolutely sympathize with her - Id have been petrified if it happened to me - I didnt appreciate her theatrics. I was just observing her, standing by the trunk, ranting, like it was someone else's fault but hers. The driver started calling his other tour drivers who were still in one of the sites. As there were several places on the itinerary, it could have been anywhere. She said she last remembered it at the Elephant Park. Therewas nothing else we could do as we have travelled some distance already, so we were depending on the other tour guides left behind.

To cut the long story short, they found the bag alright. But nowhere near she said she left it. Her pout and grimace turned to smug satisfaction. She resumed her gab mileage like she was in the comforts of her room - as though she didn't inconvenience other people with her stupidity. It would have been a little more acceptable if she looked sorry, or grateful - or barely pleasant.

That's what I sometimes hate about farangs visiting Asia. They act like they're playing in their own pigpen. Unkempt and relaxed and disheveled. I am not into rigid rules but there has to be proper decorum when you're just a visitor. They don't have to wear their tuxedos and gowns. Not as though they just crawled off a hole on the ground.

I was sitting by a cafe at Four Sons Guesthouse, right in the heart of Banglamphu where the United Nations posse passes by. It was an interesting preoccupation. You can imagine my sense of satisfaction. I felt like Simon Cowell for a change, and I don't even like the twat!

This is the Eye in the Sky!