SOMETIMES

you have to throw yourself in front of a bus just to see what it feels like.

I'm in Thailand.

It's probably ignorant to compare nations because they don't share the same sewage system as one's own, but Thailand reminds me a bit of Belize... outside the marble-floored palace where the white Americans stay, workers walk home from the job through traffic and garbage. it's 98 and humid. the streets are chaotic and and smell like burnt air and piss.... stray dogs roaming and a languge I can't recognize being thrown around over my head. The drive to school starts in the city and cuts through farm land and fields-- green extending as far as your eye.

But specific to Thailand. Motorbikes almost outnumber the cars-- fifteen year old girls cruising down the road, moms with babies up front. Everyone laughs all the time. The students are shy with their falang teacher but playful with each other. There's a sort of quiet undercurrent to the culture here, which I can only interpret as a kind of deep pride, a contentedness with their culture and their home.