Art and Travel

When I first arrived in Thailand, actually before I arrived, I had this idea that I wanted to hang out with the locals. So, I did not go out of my way to talk to other foreigners (farang in Thai) which means I didn't talk to any (I think I have an unfriendly face - too many years in the big city.) After one month of no complete sentences spoken, and me talking baby talk - arroy! (delicious), im (full), haung nam( bathroom), I thought I was going to loose my mind. So, I went in search of the not at all elusive farang. The first trip yielded a friendly man from New Jersey. The next trip and ex-cia agent lonely and depressed drinking himself to death in an upscale hotel. Then I got online and posted a hey-I-am-here-in-Chiang Mai-anyone-for-a-coffee/drink message and met a woman named Tamara who was high on Thailand but hanging with the farang, Christine a nice young woman from Cali, and then Morris, a quarrelsome retiree from, yep, New York City. For the first minute he was refreshingly familiar but just for the first minute.

After that, I discovered a fabulous café called Libernard (it's a lonely planet recommend). The owner is lovely and speaks English well, and I always meet farang here. Some good, some bad. Met 2 nice Fulbright English teachers who were in some was having a similar experience as myself. Also met a know-it-ally man (surprise) from the Midwest who was trying to tell me to move to Door County to sell my art (any of you Wisconsinites will understand the ridiculous nature of this idea - I don't paint lighthouses). The farang I have been talking with have been tourists, or like myself here for a few months. Someone told me, and I believe it to be true, that the real farangs that have moved here permanently, are an reclusive bunch who don't necessarily hang out without other farang, nor smile and say hello for that matter. After I started to seek out the other farang, my life improved. I wasn't so depressed. But like all things, farang seeking must be done in moderation.