Tomorrow, I am leaving Dubai for Bangkok. I didn't pay for the plane ticket. I'm getting picked up at the airport and I'm getting chauffeured to my new apartment, including MAID service, which I don't have to pay for, and I'm going to settle in for the next two years. You may ask, Why didn't he have to pay for any of this? Tim is certainly less qualified, has a lot less going for him, and is quite possibly retarded. I'll tell you why: Because, when I leave tomorrow, I will only have 2 bags (technically I will be carrying on 1 additional). I won't have anyone weeping at the security gate when I leave, I won't have anyone giving me a gratuitous kiss when I arrive, and if my 2 bags get lost in transit I won't care. Because I don't own those bags, and those bags don't own me.
The reason I keep moving, even as I enter my sunset years, is neither to "remake myself" (as every American expat will tell you) nor to get rich (as all the other ones twaddle on about). I move to feel real. After I finally graduated college (and yes, I have the diploma), I moved back to Richfield Springs to feel the fear of the unemployed. I left RS and moved to Delaware for a real job. I left DE and moved to Indianapolis for a real love. I left Indy and moved to Suffern due to real fear. I left Suffern for Brooklyn for real friends. I left Brooklyn for Central Islip for a real girl. I left CI for Dubai for a real wakeup call; I'm leaving the Dubs for Bangkok for a real change. I keep leaving for something which makes me feel real. Perhaps if I had an actual definition of what "feeling real" means, or at least a substantive, personal relationship with that "real," I would stop moving. But it's elusive. And I am enamored with it.
So, that being said, I'm going to start a new "Living in Thailand" blog. Here are some names I like: Thailand Daze, Bangkok Knights; The Curmudgeon Express; Smith-ereens; Dissolute isn't a Bad Thing; The Lowbrow Life; Constantly Entertaining Strangers. I'm not sure which one is the winner, but once I've lived there for 3 days, I'll have my answer. Anyway, I've been here for 2 years, and I made 2 lists: Things I didn't do which I thought I would, and Things I did but never dreamed I would do.
Things I didn't do but thought I would:
Learn Arabic.
I can't speak a non-coherent sentence, let alone a comprehensible one. Arabic isn't the lingua franca here. I can insert some appropriate words, but I've never been forced to learn anything beyond Ramadan and Haraam. That'll give you a pretty decent idea about how Arabic is spoken here. Even when I was in Saudi, the language on the street was Hindi, not Arabic. Because the men on the street were from India, not the desert. I'm not upset I didn't learn the language. It's guttural (pejorative).
Enter a Mosque:
The first year I was here, I didn't enter a mosque because I was scared I might offend everyone. My second year, I didn't enter one because I knew I would.
Go on a Desert Safari:
Driving from Dubai to Ras Al Khaimah several times (enough already....really) was plenty safari for me. I didn't stop to take pictures, because sand is always photogenic. The feral camels lining Emirates Road like sentries were enough for me. I didn't need to pay to go see the same thing.
Go to the top of the Burj Khalifa (nee Dubai):
The first week the tallest building in the world was open, the elevators broke. As in, they BROKE. Yeah, I've seen the slave labored buildings here, and I wouldn't trust any of them. I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb. Wait...I may be dumb but I'm not...hold on...
Only eat local food:
Dates. Dates are the local food. And camel. I've had both. But after a moment, the palate yearns for more. Something more...not desert. Because Dubai is a desert and historically speaking, deserts aren't known for their culinary bounty. I've become a huge fan of grills, kebabs, hummous, hammour, and other Lebanese cuisine. I like me some good Indian food. But local? No thanks. Palm fronds are good for waving, not for making soup.
Visit the Burj al Arab:
The Sailboat Hotel. The 7 Star wonder. Within 1 week of living here, I knew I would never go see it. Gilt and poor craftsmanship. The difference between Gatsby and the Buchanans. I didn't truly understand that difference until I was in England and saw...old buildings. Then, when I was in Armenia, I saw older buildings. And those buildings are still standing. Here's my prediction: The Burj al Arab won't be standing in 10 years. The roof is already leaking, and it doesn't rain here. Tell me how that happens.
Mix with the Locals:
The Emiratis are a completely closed population. I was propositioned by a local once, but then I asked him what the book had to say about extra-terrestrials. No more free drinks after that. That'll teach you to look a drink-horse in the belief.
Quit my job in fury and rage:
Usually I tend to do that. This time I didn't. Weird. It's probably because I like what I'm doing, but just didn't like the people I was working for...thus, Bangkok. Doing the same thing, but for different people.
Things I did but didn't imagine I could:
This list is pretty boring, but I'll sum it up: it's all pretty awful stuff. I didn't know I had the capacity. Apparently I do. Ahhh well. At least the kid I fathered...oh...whoops, can't say that anymore. Perhaps that one time...nope, I lost all dignity there, too. Of course, I've never had a huge store of dignity. So I move on. And I try to be truer to myself. And I will continue to try and make myself feel real.
The reason I keep moving, even as I enter my sunset years, is neither to "remake myself" (as every American expat will tell you) nor to get rich (as all the other ones twaddle on about). I move to feel real. After I finally graduated college (and yes, I have the diploma), I moved back to Richfield Springs to feel the fear of the unemployed. I left RS and moved to Delaware for a real job. I left DE and moved to Indianapolis for a real love. I left Indy and moved to Suffern due to real fear. I left Suffern for Brooklyn for real friends. I left Brooklyn for Central Islip for a real girl. I left CI for Dubai for a real wakeup call; I'm leaving the Dubs for Bangkok for a real change. I keep leaving for something which makes me feel real. Perhaps if I had an actual definition of what "feeling real" means, or at least a substantive, personal relationship with that "real," I would stop moving. But it's elusive. And I am enamored with it.
So, that being said, I'm going to start a new "Living in Thailand" blog. Here are some names I like: Thailand Daze, Bangkok Knights; The Curmudgeon Express; Smith-ereens; Dissolute isn't a Bad Thing; The Lowbrow Life; Constantly Entertaining Strangers. I'm not sure which one is the winner, but once I've lived there for 3 days, I'll have my answer. Anyway, I've been here for 2 years, and I made 2 lists: Things I didn't do which I thought I would, and Things I did but never dreamed I would do.
Things I didn't do but thought I would:
Learn Arabic.
I can't speak a non-coherent sentence, let alone a comprehensible one. Arabic isn't the lingua franca here. I can insert some appropriate words, but I've never been forced to learn anything beyond Ramadan and Haraam. That'll give you a pretty decent idea about how Arabic is spoken here. Even when I was in Saudi, the language on the street was Hindi, not Arabic. Because the men on the street were from India, not the desert. I'm not upset I didn't learn the language. It's guttural (pejorative).
Enter a Mosque:
The first year I was here, I didn't enter a mosque because I was scared I might offend everyone. My second year, I didn't enter one because I knew I would.
Go on a Desert Safari:
Driving from Dubai to Ras Al Khaimah several times (enough already....really) was plenty safari for me. I didn't stop to take pictures, because sand is always photogenic. The feral camels lining Emirates Road like sentries were enough for me. I didn't need to pay to go see the same thing.
Go to the top of the Burj Khalifa (nee Dubai):
The first week the tallest building in the world was open, the elevators broke. As in, they BROKE. Yeah, I've seen the slave labored buildings here, and I wouldn't trust any of them. I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb. Wait...I may be dumb but I'm not...hold on...
Only eat local food:
Dates. Dates are the local food. And camel. I've had both. But after a moment, the palate yearns for more. Something more...not desert. Because Dubai is a desert and historically speaking, deserts aren't known for their culinary bounty. I've become a huge fan of grills, kebabs, hummous, hammour, and other Lebanese cuisine. I like me some good Indian food. But local? No thanks. Palm fronds are good for waving, not for making soup.
Visit the Burj al Arab:
The Sailboat Hotel. The 7 Star wonder. Within 1 week of living here, I knew I would never go see it. Gilt and poor craftsmanship. The difference between Gatsby and the Buchanans. I didn't truly understand that difference until I was in England and saw...old buildings. Then, when I was in Armenia, I saw older buildings. And those buildings are still standing. Here's my prediction: The Burj al Arab won't be standing in 10 years. The roof is already leaking, and it doesn't rain here. Tell me how that happens.
Mix with the Locals:
The Emiratis are a completely closed population. I was propositioned by a local once, but then I asked him what the book had to say about extra-terrestrials. No more free drinks after that. That'll teach you to look a drink-horse in the belief.
Quit my job in fury and rage:
Usually I tend to do that. This time I didn't. Weird. It's probably because I like what I'm doing, but just didn't like the people I was working for...thus, Bangkok. Doing the same thing, but for different people.
Things I did but didn't imagine I could:
This list is pretty boring, but I'll sum it up: it's all pretty awful stuff. I didn't know I had the capacity. Apparently I do. Ahhh well. At least the kid I fathered...oh...whoops, can't say that anymore. Perhaps that one time...nope, I lost all dignity there, too. Of course, I've never had a huge store of dignity. So I move on. And I try to be truer to myself. And I will continue to try and make myself feel real.
Farewell dear flowers, sweetly your time ye spent
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