Thailand, much like Joburg, is a place of extremes. Extreme neon lights and moonlit beaches, beauty and smog, Buddhist monks and prostitute lady boys, air-conditioned taxi cabs and dusty scooters, sacred cloth and sequined mini skirts, high rises and bamboo shacks, chubby tourists and waif-like fire jugglers, wooden fishing boats and high tech jet-skis, wealthy and poor, foreign and local, wrinkled, beautiful, beautifully wrinkled. All somehow move together in a huge theatrical production called Thailand. And, much like beloved Joburg, everyone knows their part and plays it well.
Wondering how to capture it all, written or photographed, was making me break out in suntanned hives so I decided to let it be, walk through it instead with eyes wide open and what sticks, sticks.
My view from the internet cafe, well internet glass box really, is the ocean, as blue as an Aryan race child’s eyes, and a few little Thai toddlers playing on the sand with a plastic tea set. Last night, walking home across the beach Aadil looked up and said, ‘That’s the thing about the sky, wherever you are in the world, the stars are the same. Amazing.’