the scary part

What seems fantastic and truly surprising is that I've essentially skipped adulthood, middle age, and gone straight to geriatric, all in the space of a few months.
If I go out, I check out the glorious menu offerings of things I can't cook in a hotpot. I'm much more interested in the bathroom facilities than the bar babes. I worry about tripping and taking a fall. And as for muscles, for any core or body strength, well, it's probably in there somewhere, I know it used to be, but right now it's hiding. My sojourns to beaches and islands have been relative flops, but I can talk your ear off about doctors and hospitals.
Granted, I've taken some good photos, had any number of incomparable experiences, explored Nepal, learned to cook Thai food, and have been wrangling Thai students for most of the year. But beyond that, it's become a sedentary and withdrawn life wherein it's important not to climb too many staircases or I won't have energy for the end of the day.

Lately, I've been on a Qui Gong circling stint, doing breathing exercises while shifting around my center of gravity. On Saturday, I was feeling spunky and after my morning circling walked to town and back. Later, not intending to, I walked to town and back again while on the phone. It's in the 4-6 Km range, each way. Doing so was an accomplishment. And I'm still paying for it.
Regardless, I was going to tell my colleagues about it, sprucing up just a bit to sound like something worth saying you've done, when they walked in with, "So, no matter what you've heard about them being easy on farangs, they're not. We got a little bit out of it on Friday and spent the night in jail."
Gee, I went a little crazy and ordered calf-foot stew. And the large handful of chilis probably had me feeling nearly as bad and almost as remorseful through the night and morning.

When I think back to the person who left, I think "college kid." As far as what remains, pfew, rough to say much there. Forced to decide, I'd say "I'm a 4th grade teacher."
What will be interesting is to see what abiding changes come out of this experience, from the vantage of an extended perspective looking back on what stayed behind while the rest boiled off.