There's nothing like having visitors from other countries come for a visit to make you appreciate the place you live. For the past week or so, I've been hosting my parents and a couple of their friends on their trip to Thailand, Cambodia and Laos. My mom and dad have been here a couple of times already, but this is the first trip to Thailand for their friends. They're all having a great time.
They're discovering things about Thailand that I'd, frankly, forgotten about after living here for more than 10 years. They're amazed at how inexpensive the food is. They're amazed by how much food is available, everywhere and at all hours of the day and night. They're amazed at how delicious the food is. You might have noticed a trend here — my parents and their friends really do love food.
It also helps that I've been able to show my guests some restaurants and food stalls that are rarely experienced by visitors. Western visitors are often obsessed with what they think of as "authentic experience." This basically means finding the kinds of places that only the local people know about. For various reasons I think that quest for "authentic experience" is, more often than not, utter nonsense — mostly stemming from some sort of post-colonial obsession with Orientalism and the thought that only old-fashioned and traditional expressions of culture are authentic.
Oops. Sorry, I got a little bit complicated with that. One of the dangers of a liberal arts education, I'm afraid.
The point is that it's great to have visitors who've never been here. You get to see the place you live in with a completely fresh set of eyes. Last night, we all went to Chinatown to find these delicious fried noodles that are a particular favourite of mine.
The place I usually visit was closed, so we had to find another place. This involved hailing a couple of tuk-tuks and heading out of Chinatown proper. Once we'd found the right soi, we walked past the fried noodle place at the top of the soi (the noodles aren't nearly as good) and headed down the very dim, narrow alley till we'd found the place. It's a typical Bangkok noodle stand in a soi. Tin tables. Dirty walls. Plastic stools. You know … normal.
But for my visitors, it was a huge adventure. It was certainly something they'd never have been able to do on their own. They loved it, and I was happy to be able to give them the experience. Even the giant rat that ran over the top of my mother's and her friend's feet added to the adventure.
The next time I get bored or frustrated, dealing with living in Bangkok, I'm going to try to remember what it's like to experience it through a first-timer's eyes. I might not even mind the giant rats.
Sean Vale
Editor
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