A Bowl of Stupid

So much to explain, yet I still don’t know exactly where to begin — at least anywhere significantly different, except geographically speaking. I suppose the easiest place to begin is with the most obvious: I’m back in America.

As noted in prior posts, I left Bangkok over two (2) months ago now, right at the beginning of all the nonsense which has since engulfed Thailand in chaos, and now threatens to spiral out of control into a full-fledged civil war. Much like I saw the housing crisis back here in the States and cashed out / moved out before the storm reached it’s full intensity, so have I done with Thailand.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I found it relatively easy when I had to mentally and physically distance myself from my home country when the time came. Likewise, I found it almost disconcertingly easy to disconnect myself from Bangkok, which I loved as much as (if not more than) any other place I’ve lived. Now I am resigned only to hope for the best — just like every other outside observer.

After Thailand, my desire was to make a life for myself in the small, tropical wonderland of American Samoa. Specifically, an opportunity arose whereby I could live and work in Samoa for a short time, on a trial basis, and see if it suited me before committing further to the island. Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out the way I had anticipated, and after that 2 month “trial period” I left the island — most likely for good.

As I’ve mentioned previously, while admittedly small, the island of Tutuila itself is absolutely gorgeous — with tropical waterfalls, ubiquitous crystal-blue waters, soaring emerald-green volcanic mountains, and many lovely people. However, I would never be able to practice law, or conduct any business there, quite frankly, simply because the American Samoan Government is one of the most corrupt, nefarious, petty, and nepotistic organizations with which I have ever come into contact (which, including Mexico, Indonesia and Thailand, is really saying something).

My plan included returning to law in a relaxed, small-town, environment, which would allow me to also continue with my surfing and other pursuits, and also start a side-gig teaching yoga. During my two (2) months on Tutuila, I explored the beauty of the island, I arranged to start teaching yoga at a local gym, I re-immersed myself back into the practice of law, and I was also fortunate enough to meet some really great people. However, all of that positivity was tempered — no, absolutely nullified — by the sheer absurdity of trying to conduct business in the shadow of malfeasance and crookedness which is the American Samoan Government.

Which is a shame, because I could have made a life for myself there. Regardless, I saw the time had come for me to move on from Samoa. And, just as I was able to distance myself from every other place I’ve lived and loved, I left — again with a disturbing lack of fuss.

That was a couple weeks ago.

And where am I now? Now I’m back in Miami Beach, actually. Back in the same building in which I was living before I left. Granted, I’m now house-sitting for an old neighbor who generously lent me his condo for a couple weeks while he’s traveling. However, needless to say, after everyone I’ve met, after everywhere I’ve gone, and everything I’ve seen, and done, and been through since I left — I’m having more than just a slight difficulty re-acclimating. Indeed, I feel like Captain Willard at the start of Apocalypse Now:

When I was there, I wanted to be here; now I’m here, and all I can think of is getting back into the jungle. I’m here for weeks now … getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker. Each time I look around, the walls move in a little tighter.

Regardless … the point of this post was to point out, and put an end to, my journey. My sojourn. My multi-year vision quest.

I intended a bookend. But now, after writing all this out, I’m not sure. That is to say, although I’m back in the country of my birth, I am still very far from feeling “home.” Moreover, as the days move forward, it’s looking less and less likely that I’ll remain here in Florida, as the opportunities I came here for were apparently nothing more than seductive phantoms.

And so it seems I’ll soon be moving on … again. Despite the fact I still don’t know where I’m going. Or where I’ll wind up.

And while I want more than anything to stop having to write this goddamn blog, and to stay in one place for more than a couple fucking months at a time, and end this seemingly endless adventure (at least for long enough to catch my breathe) — apparently I still don’t have that option. Yet.

I know, I’ve been slacking off with the blog lately. But between looking for work, and friends visiting me here on the island, and the surgery and various doctor visits, I haven’t had either the time or the inclination to write. Nor have I really done anything worth writing about lately — so, unless you freaks are just SO bored you want to read ‘ate, slept, walked on beach, changed bandage, slept, ate’, rest assured, you haven’t missed much.

But now that I’m back on my feet (and my surfboard), I’m starting to feel a bit more like myself. Which, in turn, means that I feel like bitching — in written form — again.

First off, in response to what I heard were less than satisfactory reviews to my posts concerning my trip to Hong Kong several months ago, I will say only this to anyone who felt that way: … how to put this politely? umm … fuck you?

I’ve never made any secrets about the fact that, in addition to documenting my travels over the past few years for both my own posterity and for my friends and family to keep track of my whereabouts, this blog is also an outlet for me to bitch and moan. When I do it about celebrities and politicians, I get all kinds of fan mail. But when I do it about friends and family, I get grief. But it’s just a freaking blog, people — let’s keep things in fucking perspective.

Let me say this again another way — I don’t know Fergie. She may be a lovely person for all I know. But that will never prevent me from comparing her to Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Simply because it’s out there.

Similarly, any one of you people reading who has ever been married, has ever had siblings, or has ever had parents (… wait for it) — you can all attest that you have, at some point or another, gotten irritated at them, wanted to yell at them, or simply wished to slap the living shit out of them. Yet, just because I may get irritated with my friends and family at any certain point in time does not take away from the fact that I love them.

And if you think you know what exactly I’m talking about in my posts, you’re wrong. You’ve got no fucking clue. You may think you do. Indeed, I TRY to get my readers to think a certain way, because it makes for a better read — often times in direct contradiction to my actual thought processes. But you’ve no idea what I’m actually thinking. Especially those of you who’ve never even met me in person.

So, if you want to read this dribble, so be it — feel free to. But you’re the one who clicked onto this website. You should know just what to expect by doing so.

Last week marked the [REDACTED] year anniversary of when I [REDACTED] and left the States to instead begin my inexorable journey down the long road back to the middle. To commemorate the occasion, I purchased an 8 foot Mini-Malibu longboard to replace the one I left in The Philippines last year.

I’ve got a fairly rounded out quiver of surfboards at this stage — appropriate for most types of surf I can get out here in Indo, and indeed, around the world.

True, I still need a nice longer gun for some of the bigger, hollower Indo waves. But the way I see it, I can still barely perform adequately on the boards I’ve got. So let’s not kid ourselves — sure, my skill level has increased dramatically from when I first left my job, and I’m still best riding a longboard, but I’m never going pro on ANY length board. EV-ER.

That being said, I took the new longboard out for a spin today and realized/remembered that I essentially just started surfing last year or so. Before then, I was riding longboards almost exclusively. And while there are a whole slew of skills associated with longboarding, it is in no way, shape or form the same as riding a regular surfboard.

I honestly thought I’d enjoy going back to the longboard again, but to be honest — I found it a bit boring now that I’ve experienced the thrills of riding big hollow tubes, and actually WORKING the wave the way you can only on a shorter board.

My biggest problem in the water is still my ongoing frustration with myself more than anyone else in the water. With all my time in the water, I feel like I should be a far better surfer at this stage in the game. But like I just said — I”ve essentially only just started surfing about 1-2 years ago. I hope I can bring some of that realization with me when I go back out on one of my shorter boards and do a snap off the lip, or get another amazing barrel ride — with that huge ‘whooshing’ sound of the wave closing in behind and atop me.

It’s all good, mate. Semua bagus, dan saya senang sekali.

So, as expected, I’ve kinda settled back nicely into my Bali routine of coffee, surfing, hallucinogens, catching up on movies and TV, and doing yoga. One small hitch, tho.

Seems I didn’t scrub out a reef scratch I got out on the islands last month, and I went to the Doctor yesterday to take care of an infected abscess on my right calf. It should be good after a week of antibiotics — no worries for now, we’ll see how it unfolds.

One of the things I’ve just seen/heard since getting back here is Lilly Allen’s newest album ‘It’s Not Me, It’s You’, which came out back on February 9th (I live in Indonesia, it takes time for this shit to get to us, okay?). Anyway, I heard the first release, ‘The Fear’ last nite on Jimmy Kimmel. I swear this chick can do no wrong — there’s a great mix of 80′s synth-pop, current electronica production, and awesome tongue-in-cheek lyrics (“I am a weapon of massive consumption …”). Jeez, I so wanna marry this chick.

I usually try to avoid trashing people, either overtly or inadvertently, except for comedic purposes. I particularly try to avoid doing so when the trashees are my friends, or have at least been kind to me. And while this post may not, in the most technical of terms, constitute ‘trashing’, I’m not sure it’s something I’d particularly like to read if it were about me.

Regardless, for several years now, I’ve been a fan of, and am actually listed as a commentator on, the internet movie-review website ‘Pajiba.’

I first became involved with Pajiba when I was still living back in the States and most of my time at work was spent surfing the internet looking for cool and interesting things to read. Moreover, I understood Pajiba to have been started by a guy from similar circumstances as mine — law school trained, not satisfied with legal work, and looked elsewhere, starting an internet movie review site which, as he described it, provided ‘Scathing Reviews For Bitchy People.’

For those reasons alone, I became an almost instant fan of the site. And because the clever, witty, and indeed scathing reviews initially provided by Dustin and his partners to dissect Hollywood and the trash it has been producing in recent years, I stayed with Pajiba over the last several years … and the more than several thousands of miles.

For this, I was rewarded with several great new online (and in one case, personal) friendships. I also received, from time to time, an amazing amount of referral traffic to THIS site. And, until recently, I also enjoyed reading how the crew at Pajiba — who mostly have similar tastes in movies and music as I do — viewed (and vilified) the latest movies and music being released back in the States.

But, to be honest, the site no longer holds the same interest for me as it once did. And I’m not sure if I’ve simply strayed that far away from the pack in terms of the whole ‘online culture’, or if it’s a case of ‘The Emperor Has No Clothes’.

I think perhaps it may be a little of both.

I haven’t the inclination to describe in full just how I may no longer be ‘connected’, or why Pajiba may have strayed, except to say that I’ve got Indonesian language homework that now takes priority, and that most Pajiba posts these days are nonsensical, used simply as filler to maintain its online traffic and/or to otherwise provoke commentary from its readers. In this regard, the site, once professional and with lofty aspirations, has devolved into simply another blog site — one of trillions.

The straw that broke the camels back for me was a post yesterday reviewing the new Seth Rogan movie Observe and Report. And while the review itself was informative and entertaining, the comment section devolved into something straight out of The Lord Of The Flies.

I know it takes a lot to say that something has left a bad enough taste in my mouth to keep ME from going back … but this may have been it (something similar happened over at the DailyKos several years ago, I haven’t been back there since, and I’ve no idea whether it has emerged from all the infighting and backbiting and rudeness to become a better online journal).

Whereas most professional sites would close off commenting when it got even CLOSE to the point it did yesterday, Pajiba just let it keep rolling, prompting more and more, and worse and worse, commentary. Yet who can blame the commentators, really? Most of the recent posting was about the drunken escapades of the Pajiba writers at the 2009 SXSW Conference more than the movies they ostensibly went to review.

Sure, I want to know how my friends are fairing during their working-vacation, but that’s the stuff of blog posts, not an ostensibly professional entertainment website. When the inmates are allowed run of the asylum, you know it’s time to open the ward room window and climb on out, before they give you a pre-frontal lobotomy and Chief Bromden has to smother you with a pillow.

Pajiba is a great concept. It’s run by some really nice people. And it was initially executed well enough to draw me and thousands of other faithful. Yet, while I’m not one to lecture (just ramble), I’d suggest that Dustin and the crew may want to review what they initially wanted to accomplish with Pajiba.

If this is it, that’s fine, so be it … I’ve strayed too far into the offline world for the site to still fulfill my admittedly shitty tastes. But if this ain’t exactly what they had in mind, it’s not too late to go back to writing something the general public considers worth reading.

They’ve got the skills, all they need is the determination.

You never know what is enough, until you know what is more than enough.
~William Blake, Proverbs of Hell

Man, I’d forgotten just how delicious an emotion anger can be.

I’ve been working on managing my anger (and other emotions) through Buddhism, meditation, and yoga ever since I first got to Asia. I’ve been doing it for a variety of reasons — in Asia, it’s culturally unacceptable to get angry in public (i.e., everywhere), it’s generally healthier to focus your anger towards such positive outlets (i.e., yoga, surfing, etc.), and because I’m just generally trying to be a nicer, more mature person (i.e., I’m getting to the age where it’s just unbecoming to be angry).

But as I noted in a recent post, pushing those emotion too far away also has consequences. Like letting TOO many things slide without a fight. Like a failure to acknowledge when someone else has been mean or rude or reckless with you. Like diffusing the emotions so often that it becomes emasculating.

Right now, however, I’m over it. Now? I’m just mad. No, strike that — I’m fucking pissed off.

Man, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this way. And you know what? It feels good. Because it is rage justified. And anger fuels better decisions.

I don’t care if it renders my behavior immature, or surly, or what-the-fuck-ever other judgment call is thrown back at me. It’s unnatural to remain smooth, calm, and unaffected by the frustrations experienced in life. And if there’s no slack — either I’m too soft or I’m too surly — fuck it. it’s nice to be happily pissed off again, if only for an hour or two.

It reminds me of who I am, and that I’m still alive.

Okay, so could someone please tell me which is worse:

1. Signing on for a sweet gig writing movie and music reviews on one of the best entertainment websites online today (yeah, I’m not above pandering …), and then getting assigned to review Britney Spears’ latest piece of shit CD.

or,

2. Donating millions to win a long, hard fought and historic Presidential campaign — and then getting tapped again for even MORE money after your candidate wins, just to pay off the US$7.5 million debt from the rival candidate’s failed presidential bid?

Yep, that’s a tough one, but I’m gonna have to go with the Britney Spears review, too. It’s only money, right?

UPDATE: Apparently TK actually VOLUNTEERED to review the Britney album. So that takes him out of the ‘unlucky’ category (like the Obama donors), and moves him into the ‘dumb as a box of rocks’ category — for which he’s entitled to no sympathy votes. Sorry kid.

I’ve mentioned several times just how iconic Facebook has become over the past year — and not just for the pimpled high-school masses, but also for me and most of the other ex-pats I know living abroad. It is THE simplest way to keep in touch with all of my friends and acquaintances, and also to find out if any of them will be around in any of the cities and/or countries I’m currently in or plan to soon visit.

In a word, it’s easy. And as such, I’m an admitted addict.

But I think it’s now gone way past the point of mere utilitarianism. Facebook has reached the point where it’s just plain creepy. No, I take that back … it’s really fucking creepy.

Example — over the past month or so, not only have I have been contacted on Facebook by people I used to know back when I was growing up in the slums of West Philadelphia (I don’t care what anyone says, a neighborhood can still be a slum regardless of race, income or social status — hell, just look at the entire State of New Jersey), but I’ve also been contacted by my older sister’s former schoolmates and several PARENTS of people I used to know back in the ol’ hood.

I don’t care what others say, but for me, that’s just plain wrong.

It’s kind of like clothes that have become fashionable — as soon as you see your mom wearing a ‘FRANKIE SAYS RELAX’ t-shirt, you know it’s all over.

The problem in this case is that I never actually liked my ‘FRANKIE SAYS’ t-shirt (assuming, arguendo, I ever owned one). In contrast, I use Facebook on a daily basis … I am a SLAVE to Facebook. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where my ACTUAL friends and I sit around and brainstorm about what we should write for out online statuses the moment we all return home. It’s just THAT BAD.

This presents me with something of a conundrum: can I release my Amy Winehouse-like addiction to Facebook for long enough so that those people I’ve been avoiding for the past 20 years will either spill their troughs of bourbon accidentally onto their computers or, alternatively, so that they’ll just forget about me (which I admit isn’t the most likely scenario, considering it’s already been 20 years and they’re still harassing me)?

Yeah, it’s pretty doubtful.

Now don’t get me wrong, being put back into contact with all there old acquaintances hasn’t been ALL bad. Shit, I admittedly joined a Facebook group especially for my old neighborhood. I did so voluntarily, perhaps out of a sense of morbid curiosity — something akin to slowing down at the scene of a car wreck.

Part of it was in furtherance of my own personal introspection. I’m keeping the contacts because I wonder if these people I grew up with see me now the same way I still see them — 20 years gone. And I wonder if they’ve any concept of what I’ve been though and how I see them in their lives. Does it really fucking matter?

Also, I recognize that I’m looking at the old pictures they post, not with a sense of melancholic nostalgia and regret, but with a return of the grim determination I had when I first left for college — to prove what I already knew was true — that I was better than they were.

And while that selfish determination has mellowed a bit over the years, I am admittedly enjoying this resurgence from the past just a bit too much.

Mort likely than not I am enjoying the cruel satisfaction that comes from hearing about all these people who peaked in High School (and with whom I never really got along with) — just hearing about how … mundane and … well, ordinary their lives turned out. While mine (for now, at least), in contrast, has and continues to be a journey and adventure that I absolutely treasure.

There is also another bright side to the whole Facebook creepiness that satisfies my more Buddhist tendencies, which is that, in addition to most of the knuckle-draggers I knew from back in the day, there are scattered about them several other gems who also took their lives into their own hands after ‘back in the day’ ended and they focused on bettering themselves (through travel, advanced education, or otherwise).

And who knows, maybe these folks make all the other nonsense tolerable. Or maybe Facebook IS just really creepy … it’s still too early to tell.

I’m back in Seminyak. Bali. I had an incredible 3 weeks back in Bangkok — essentially ‘closing up shop’ and packing up the rest of my things in my Bangkok apartment to bring to my new place here in Bali.

But, as always, I was also able to visit and spend some time with my friends in Bangkok (whom we sorta affectionately call The ‘Bangkok Brat Pack’ — I’m Judd Nelson). And while it’s nice to back to an island pace, I already miss my friends in Bangers. I really can’t describe just HOW lucky I’ve been in meeting the people I have in the past couple years (and beforehand too). My friends in Bangkok are simply amazing people and I love them dearly. I don’t know what’s gonna happen if and when I ever have to return to the States. I really don’t.

But that time is (hopefully) some time away still. And I’m back in one of the most beautiful tropical paradises in the world. And I have friends here, as well. So my goal is to try to continue to enjoy myself as much as possibly in the midst of missing my Bangkok friends, and so much doom and gloom elsewhere.

On another note upon which I plan to expand later, I’ve recently been contacted on Facebook by a number of people I grew up with back in Philly. It’s both interesting and a bit disconcerting. I haven’t thought about many of these folks for a long time, and while it’s interesting, I’m not sure exactly how I feel about having to explaining myself all these people I left in the dust decades ago — especially considering I’ve been doing it here — publicly — for the past several years.

We’ll see how it unfolds. I’m going for a surf.

In keeping with my renewed interest in presenting a more ‘travel oriented’ blog, while simultaniously retaining my newfound desire to be as lazy as possible, I’ve reached a compromise — I’m going to start posting video clips.

I figure it’s the best way for my friends and family to see some of the truer elements of the places where I’m traveling and living, and aso a hell of a lot easier than sitting down and writing out something for the blog (which, as we all know, would significantly eat into my much needed ‘nap time’).

I’ll probably start in the next couple days, so stay tuned.

P.S.: In addition, I’ve also added few new links:

The first is to a Mina I Bangkok, a blog recently started by a Swedish friend of mine writing, coincidentally, about being a Swede living and working for a non-profit here in Bangkok.

The second is Where Was I?, another new(ish) blog written by former CNN’er Jacki Schechner (between her and Chez, I’m trying to cover most of the former CNN’ers from Miami — no, Rick Sanchez is NOT next).

And the third is to Yoga Elements, my yoga studio here in Bangers — possibly the best studio I’ve been to in my life. If you’re ever in Bangkok and need a good yoga studio, check them out.

When I first started writing this blog a couple years back, it was ostensibly for three reasons: (1) to practice my narrative writing skills, (2) to provide a public outlet, however small, for all my outrage against the American political and social landscape, and — what I considered to be — the unfortunate state of my life in general; and (3) to make fun of Britney Spears.

Now, considering the fact that I am in the midst of a 3 year ‘surf sufari”, Americans wholeheartedly voted against the Republican, neo-conservative agenda that has been poisoning the world for the past 8 years, and that Britney Spears will apparently be successful in conducting her comeback number 23, that leaves me with just ‘working on my writing skills’ as the main emphesis for this blog.

And anyone who has been reading this dribble (like the above, for example) can tell how THAT’S going … yah, not so well. Ever since I left the States in an effort to find the perfect wave, my writing has become pretty stale, and fairly one-dimentional.

In fact, it’s much worse that that. It’s not just my writing that has become one-dimentional, it’s my entire being. And while I enjoy the idea of simplifying my life to the extent where I can focus my energies into only 1-2 things that are really important to me, it’s now reached a level where I can’t even speak to people — good friends of mine — unless the conversation is about surfing or yoga for surfing (okay, so maybe 1 and 1/2 dimentional).

It has taken the election to sort of rattle me out of this self-induced slumber — I never thought I’d again be interested in politics, or anything else for that matter. But I guess recognizing you have a problem is the first step in correcting it — isn’t that what they say at all the 12 step programs?

Yeah, I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’m late for my yoga class, so if you’ll excuse me …

I know the tone of my blog of late has been less than optimistic, to say the least.

Rather, when I’ve posted at all, those posts have reflected the high anxiety of the world financial markets, the vitriolic advancing of the U.S. Presidential election, and my own general frustration about my continuing inability to find my place in the world.

As my friend here has told me, tho — get the fuck over it. There’s nothing much you can do about those things. But I am living in tropical paradise (of sorts) with immediate access to some of the best surfing in the world. I’ve enough money left to live like like royalty here for the next year, at least — so suck it the fuck up.

There is little reason for my high anxiety right now, expecially considering my current locale and my daily routine of surfing and eating cheap Indonesia food.

Ironically, I feel that much of this is tied to the fact that, for the first time in several years, I have cable television and internet at my home — incuding access to international news networks. I have, until now, been fairly segregated from the nightmares being broadcast 24 hours a day on these chanels.

I can’t help but feel that my immediate access to these outlets hs at least SOMETHING to do with my growing unease and anxiety. I really think I ned to lose the television again, and by implication, admit that my parents were right: “Television rots your mind” — especially during a U.S. Presidential race.

And that doesn’t even include all the political ads we don’t have to put up with here overseas. I can only imagine how miserable the people living back in the States must feel — being constantly innumdated with bad financial news and bitter campaign politics.

Yep, I’ve got it pretty fucking good over here.

(Yep, I’m starting to handle those perfect Indo lefts okay enuf…)

So, after 5 towns, 4 airports, 3 plane rides, 3 bemo rides, 3 taxi rides, and 1 ferry ride, I’m back from Rote and in Bangkok again. And while the surf was less than I expected it was still a very, VERY enjoyable trip.

I was in Rote for about a month, and while I did get several days (about 6-7 total) of some really great, single to triple overhead surf … I pretty much got skunked (in terms of big waves). Oh well, not much to do about that.

Regardless, like I said, I still had a really good time there … again. I’m may be starting to enjoy that area just a bit too much. I enjoy learning Indonesian, I enjoy the local peeps (just such great folks), and even when the surf is small, if there are no (like ‘NONE’) people out in the water, it’s still a fun little wave to dick around on in between naps.

As usual, I’m also now sans the extra 2-3 kilos I tend to put on living in civilization (i.e., Bangkok, Singapore, Miami … wherever). The food is soooo good, and sooo healthy — rice and veggies and fish (all locally and naturally grown stuff, too), that it’s hard NOT to get healthy there. Also, I was spending anywhere between 1.5 — 6 hours in the water and practicing yoga almost every day — damn it feels good to feel this healthy!!

And my surfing has also improved tremendously — my new(ish) single-fin retro board doesn’t do much in smaller waves (I just bought a 6’8″ super-fish in Bali to handle anything less than head high waves), but in anything 1.5 overhead and bigger … man, that thing fucking FLIES!! And it’s so, so, sooooo much fun.

I never really knew what was achievable on bigger waves with the right equiptment!! Now I’m starting to find out … and I LOVE it!! Even now, after getting almost ‘complacent’ with surfing the near-perfect conditions of Indonesia for the past year, it’s like getting that ‘first time surfing bug’ all over again. Damn, now it just feels so good to go surfing again!!!

Anyway …. and then there’s Bangkok…

After almost another month sans electricity and internet, I got back to Bali yesterday to hear word of riots and another potential coup here in Bangkok. Strange days.

As usual, the mainstream media is doing it’s best to overstate the situation simply to scare the world’s population. As it turns out, however, it doesn’t seem to be all that bad here. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s pretty much ‘business as usual’ around here, except that the entire town is kinda subdued right now. It’s sort of like everyone is just staying quiet and keeping their heads down until all the political bullshit blows over.

Noneteless, it does reminds you that regardless of all the western influences it IS still Asia and they do things a bit differently over here. I head to Krabi this weekend for a friend’s birthday retreat, but I’ll keep everyone posted.