The instant you drive into Bangkok you see the overarching freeways that scream global city. The traffic is incomprehensible. One hour to go four miles.
People have braces and wheelchairs. After Cambodia these tidbits of western society are shocking. There are more 711s here than in the United States. There are Westphalias turned into bars. Women in the red-light district grab your thighs. The city is just so goddamn big.
You love it.
You love how a group of Muslim women will walk through the redlight district like it’s nothing. You love how mirroring each other across the street is a Hindu temple and Mosque. You love and are confused by the many Native American symbols to the point of there being the type of wooden statues you see in smoke shops on the side of the road. You love how big it is. How you feel like your pod-racing as the rickshaw goes at speeds that no-one could find comfortable. You love how you had to and got to buy off a Burmese embassy official to get your visa cause you got to the embassy too late. You love the sink or swim feel to it. You keep thinking it’s NYC. You love the ornate Thai buildings side by side skyscrapers with flashing neon lights. 

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