One Night in Bangkok
The City of Angels, Kindgom of Old Siam

Siem Reap I was glad to leave. Harsh mix of dirty sand and dirty wealth. Poorest of the poor with rich resort goers who pop in for Angkor and luxury in the form of cheap five course meals and ice cream cones and hot air balloon rides over the temples and then jet off. I bussed off.

The bus ride to the Thai border was fraught with apparent peril and good old-fashioned adventure. Cambodia, unlike most countries, still gives you a sense that you're returning to the past, even if it's just ten years (which is about all the liberal project will allow--you know, only countries without McDonalds get our bombs). Our bus was air conditioned, but the system was obviously an afterthought, just a maze of duct taped tubes and whirling, smoking, dripping motors where the luggage rack should have been. The German behind me not only had to lodge a scrap of wood into his seat to stay upright, he also kept the aircon from blowing up. "German engineering!" the boisterous hippie farmers from Washington State cheered through their two inch mustaches. They were the first and only Americans I met in Cambodge. At one impass (the bridge was out), we veared off Highway 6 (a dirt road) onto a dirt two track, through some villages. The porter literally had to hack away the jungle with a machete. We drove through fields. The middle of the bus got caught on a ridge. By the time we reached the border the bus a dirty, scratched and dented mess.

Border crossing went smoothly. They played thumping techno on the Thai side, the uniforms nodding along as they stamped.

Ah, Thailand...

...how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Massive highways, how I missed you! And 7-eleven. Your slurpies have no compare. And your Lays potato chips! (the first I'd eaten in two months). You're a fine face of Empire Americana! And Khoa San Rd, the most backpacker friendly load in the world. Packed full of my kind. Took me an hour to find a room.

I met up with an old university friend in Bangkok. It was his last day before returning back to Bangladesh, where he's on ten-month scholarship. He was laying in medical supplies to take back to his hospital. He's doing amazing things and very good deeds, working in an ER ward and collecting samples of a rare tropical parasite that lodges itself in the white blood cells. He truly had transformed into "Eastern Ken." (I'll write more of his specifics soon, because there is much more).

We went to a club, watched the drag queens, danced ourselves silly, got caught up into the wee hours. I couldn't be happier to be back in the Land of Smiles. Now I'm off to the border. Bangkok is better the shorter I'm here.