on the move in Bangkok

I'm in Bangkok on my third "last day here" It's a hard place to leave. There is an organized type of chaos just beyond where I sit. Vendors, cars, bikes, tourists, locals all manage to carve out exactly enough space for them to do what they need. The weather is a little cloudy, finally, with a light breeze. Warm. Comfortable. It does not cool off here at night, in fact all senses point to everything heating up when the sun goes down. A faint smell of incense is never far.

I move.

A five minute walk away I'm completely alone, resting in the shade by the water. There is a little temple just in front of me. Boats go by in the water. They move quick but do not make much wake. I am snacking on what can only be described as sweet cream filled taquitos. They are still warm. Ants drag away the remaining crumbs. Their speed and efficiency is frightening.

I move. Quickly.

I am on the other side of the park. There are locals eating here but it's not too far from the tourist area that there is no English. I order. The price is the same, the quality is incomparable. The spice in India has nothing on this. I sweat less in a sauna. The Thai ice tea is the best I've had so far, and the cheapest.

I move.

There are more people in this side of the park. There is a very beaten down looking building on the other side of the channel. Clothes hang, mold creeps. The building may have been white or blue at some point. Windows are small, barred. Thailand is not rich by any means, but it does not stand anywhere near the poverty of India. I am picking up 4 wifi hot spots. There are no separate white people prices and at no point anywhere do you feel like you are getting screwed. Given, my ipod has decided to take a separate vacation from me. A shame, I collected some cool stuff in my travels. I have heard of people who came here and did not want to leave. Or those who had a year to travel and spent half of it here. I understand it. I want to stay.

I move.

I'm on the move. Taxis in Bangkok are extremely cheap... when they are moving. Traffic in Bangkok however does not always want to move much. I am meeting a friend and we're going to his house south of Bangkok. I never remember the names. So far it's everything I expected, and more. the CS community is amazing. I've met great people. When you travel your closest friends are ones you've known for a week. I am surrounded by close friends.
Many cities I've been to try to bring some vegetation into them. It looks forced, planted. In Dubai if you turn the water off for a day every plant will wither and die. Bangkok has the opposite feel. It feels almost as if the city is fighting of the encroaching wilderness. There is nowhere you can look without seeing green.

I move.

The taxi stops near where I want to be. I walk out in the street. The ride took about 45 min. It costs a little less than $3. I'm at a bus stop. heading to a close friend's house. Half Thai, half Swedish, named Master. "I may have to do some stuff during the day but you're welcome to stay even if I'm not there. I trust you." I'm moved. I never want it to become mundane. I've slept on many couches and I know how much trust it requires and I never want to take it for granted. Every time it is a person letting me into their most sacred of places. Every time I join a family even for a day I feel like I owe karma something.

We're moving.

The van has 3 other passengers. We may get some more on the way. I'm excited to get out to the countryside. I want to compare this place to India but there is no comparison. Sure there is no toilet paper and everything is cheap and it's crowded but where Delhi has soul crushing poverty blatantly on display Bangkok, in comparison, feels more like humble living. "Is it hard being away from home for so long?" I'm frequently asked. There are travelers here who have been doing it longer than me, and others who plan to. Home is what you make it. For some it is that sacred place that I am allowed to be part of on occasion. For others it's where they put their bags. Others have home as a distant memory of a place that may not really exist any more. Home can be the people around you or a smell, and a sound. It does not need to be stationary or even tangible. It doesn't need to be a place you stay. Me? I move.