Farang

Being a stranger in a foreign land is affecting me in unexpected ways. There's the frustration of being truly lost. It appears that Bangkok is a dreamland for wandering aimlessly, but a nightmare for moving efficiently to a desired locale. The fatigue can be more acute than previously imaginable, coming from trekking through the unaccustomed heat and humidity as well as the immensity of trying to learn a new language. It is alternately tremendously fun and very disheartening.
While I am getting better and better at communicating in Thai, I find that I hit walls occasionally. I seem to overwhelm my mind with new things and have trouble cataloging and recalling. Phrases run together. Things I've said repeatedly fail to come to my tongue. At one point I was speaking Thai to Japanese tourists before I recognized them. Switching between languages is the hardest part, something I struggle with every time we leave the cocoon of English within the hostel.
Because we have no guide or agenda, we often find ourselves in situations that make me feel like a trespasser, but it seems a personal feeling, not shared by the native populous. There is amazement at wandering purposelessly behind apartments and houses, where peoples' lives spill out; them not giving us a second thought beyond the interest our skin color brings. As we walk through temples away from tourists, we often come across monks and people praying. They seem to be neither surprised by our presence nor offended by the intrusion into their worship.
There's so much that I don't understand here. How the economy can possibly work, the city wide insistence on running virtually the same scams, and how people can come here with a desire to see the sights without absorbing any of the culture are all beyond me at the moment.
Of course we interact with other foreigners occasionally. Some are as I would hope: thoughtful, open, and awed. Too many, however, are obviously here to capture pictures of themselves hastily garbed in native ceremonial attire standing atop some national treasure, moving on as soon as the shutter closes. Bagging monuments with a camera the way 'sportsmen' used to on safari. Americans are certainly not above this, but they are not alone. I've watched Germans, British, Spanish, Japanese, and many others make no attempt to correct a communication breakdown with a simple Thai phrasebook and patience.
While it can be disheartening to feel myself a target I don't blame the Thai people, but rather these interlopers for setting the bar so low in their eyes. I have lost time and Baht to gain experience. Stepping out of the tourist areas, I've seen the living conditions. Hovels with work shirts hung to dry so that they can present themselves at the hotels and massage parlors. In a city of over 10 million, obviously not everyone is serving visitors, but the tourist trade is quite evidently a cornerstone propping up the economy. I endeavor to become wary of the trappings without putting up barriers between myself and the culture at large.
The marked change in facial expression and posture when a Thai greeting is offered as we pass on the sidewalk is deeply gratifying. It's as if I pass some sort of test; this one wants to learn our culture. The more of their language I understand, the more rewarding each interaction is, even the ones that leave both sides laughing at our lack of comprehension.
I've also discovered that even those bent on selling the scam have hearts of gold. When a direct question is asked it is if they are unable to tell a lie. They are fine with omission and preying on ignorance, but an outright lie seems beyond their powers. Someone approaching to sell boat tours or a ride in a longboat to navigate the river, if asked about a specific ferry, will not only direct you, but run alongside offering the encouragement 'quick, quick' as they ensure that you are not stranded.
I look forward to another day of exploration, both without and within.