Kitchen? Cooking utensils? A table and chairs PLUS a separate place to sleep on a bed with springs? Hot and cold water and a kitchen sink? Curtains?
HOT DAMN! I haven't seen those since I last saw prime rib!
And today's writing has me thinking about things I miss: potato being a staple starch, pancakes and waffles, bacon, salami, multi-grain bread with decent jelly and butter--butter period, peanut or almond or dairy butter--toffee, anything requiring an oven (it seems the only ovens in Thailand are in the pizza joints, so there are no brownies, fresh cookies, fresh bread, roasts, anything requiring indirect heat; there are boiled hunks of meat, and I dearly love parboiled intestine with fresh liver, but a meatloaf would be divine), chocolate (decent chocolate melts in the average daytime temperatures), did I mention potatoes?, or anything from Latin cuisine. And by that I mean anything from Tierra del Fuego to northern Spain: give me robust flavors slow cooked into legumes with little bits cut from big hunks of meat and I'll show you happy); cheese around here is processed at best (Asians and lactose, this population density and tropical festering with a dairy farm), and a "Sandwich" is slices of crustless white bread toasted with sweetened condensed milk. Yes, it's tasty, but even in my current state--especially in my current state--I would crash waves of solid Asian crowding aside to get to a Quizno's sub, let alone a decent French dip.
And then there are the creature comforts.
I live in one of the more exclusive and luxurious places in town. I have a mattress that's somewhat softer than coconut husk on boxsprings on the floor, a desk with a television and cable that sometimes works, a minifridge, a sawhorse for my clothes, a hot water heater that costs slightly less to run than the AC unit, and a shower curtain. Otherwise, if I were to want shelving, curtains, cupboards or cabinets, or any sort of organized storage beyond the luggage I came with, I would have to buy it. Likewise, I provide my own cleaning devices, supplies, and activities, my own towels and sheets, take my own garbage to the streetside bin, all for only slightly more than it would cost to rent a house without any furniture or fixtures from a shady woman who speaks no English and is trying desperately to fund a new neighborhood all her own by overcharging farang who don't know any better. Or I could move to a place with bare concrete walls and tile floors a ten minute walk from a ten minute mototaxi ride to campus. Rent for that would cut 20% off my current rent+utilities.
When I came, it seemed like being thrown into a rough Motel 6. Now I wonder what I would do if I actually had storage room or a cooking space. And curtains. Curtains? Tres bourgeoise!
After what it took to get to where I am, it scares me to think of what I could tolerate with a kitchen and easy chair to come home to. Curtains to sleep behind.
Would a mattress Americans would call hard have too much give for comfortable sleep?
What would I do if there was a different space to read, write, sleep, and eat?
It's been a year since I've operated a vehicle, and just as long since I've operated a cooking device (beyond a water boiler, which is to say: I've had enough soup for my lifetime, thanks). What would I do with such complications? With shopping for raw ingredients?
What would I do with a washing machine?
Funny: having learned to recognize all that I have here, which is quite a lot--trustworthy landlords, a quiet and safe building, windows with glass panes that open and close (one of which has a screen), a mattress softer than coconut husk, AC, hot water, a real toilet (even if the rim and lid aren't attached), a relatively safe and extremely convenient commute, a fridge and TV, a three-pronged outlet for my computer and internet that works a good 60% of the time--I've forgotten how to deal with many of the things I once considered an inherent component of daily life. Just imagine having a kitchen, how much time must be spent preparing and cleaning, how much money must be spent on spices and staples for a cupboard, what it would take to assuage the after-school hunger currently squashed by any of the dozens of carts on the walk between work and home.
And some of these places talk about leasing cars.
Lease a car? Something so huge and valuable? In a foreign country?
Here, a motorbike is 2 years' salary, a car the investment of a decade, and I'm a living testament to the driving conditions. What would it be like in a country that advertises "aggressive driving" as normal and accidents as customary?
Granted, I dream about the WRX, my blonde beauty back home, and those dreams rarely involve sticking to 55. But that's on American roads around American drivers, who are so paranoid of the law they drive as if St Peter were next to them and actively passing judgement.
But here goes.
I've decided that if an offer comes in, I'll go for it. My rationale is that nothing I'm looking at seems to be any worse in terms of working or living, and the pay increases by at least 300% with greater potential to improve working, living, or salary compensation by a considerable margin.
Keep good thoughts comin'
They may not be obvious, but they're very, very important
No comments:
Post a Comment