... it seems I've got a little of both, and not enough of either.
I've hesitated to blog about this for a while now, mostly because I wasn't sure what I'd think if my new coworkers were reading this blog, or if they were to come upon it a few months from now. But, as nothing I'm saying here is meant as anything but an observation, I'm hoping that if they are reading, nobody will be offended. It's not meant in that spirit.
One of the things about this place I was so unprepared for is the incessant pairing-off of expats and their Thai companions. Every single farang coworker, and every single farang I've come across around town (at least those who don't appear to be tourists; though, really, also many who do), seems to have a Thai lady in his life, whether for ten years or ten hours.
It's something that hadn't even occurred to me, but it's also quite obvious, I suppose: If you're a single guy living somewhere else in the world, and you're given the opportunity to come live in Thailand, and you take it, you probably like Thai women (or men). Or maybe you visited here, fell in love with them, and made every effort to stay because of them.
They are lovely, really, so I can see the reasons behind this phenomenon... but it's also a little jarring to see so few independent people. I've been single for pretty much my entire adult life, and I've always been happy for friends who find that special someone, but I've never been the only single person in a crowd. Or a city. That's an exaggeration, obviously, but that's what it feels like more often than not.
Of course, having a significant other in a place as foreign as this makes life easier, too. It gives you a built-in translator. It gives you someone to go grocery-shopping with, someone to interpret all the signs at the street-food vendors; It gives you someone to come home to after fighting your way through the city all day.
All that sounds like it's setting up a familiar refrain. But the weird thing is this: I don't want a boyfriend here. This move is much more short-term than long-term, and I've realized (in no uncertain terms) that's how I want it. But I would like a few other single people, peers, to share this experience with, and take it all in - not find a companion for the night or the rest of my life.
I knew I was leaving a lot behind in San Jose (believe me, I knew). But somehow I thought I'd have a similar life in Bangkok, with some new faces making poor substitutes for old and some new surroundings making for a fabulous improvement on familiar.
And it's early yet, I know, but I can plainly see the writing on the wall (even if I can't read it): That just isn't going to happen here. There are the locals, there are the backpackers or the gap-year kids, there are the upscale travelers staying across the river at the Mandarin Oriental, and there are the paired-off farangs, who thank their lucky stars they're here. I don't fit, it seems.
