Ping pong show, sex tourists, a funeral and Bangkok photos

My summer was pretty fucked. Why? Because a pregnant dwarf stole my bag which contained my passport, MasterCard, Visa, plane tickets, keys, cellphones and cameras. And yes, I do know that it sounds like something straight out of The Hangover II, but that actually did happen. 

See. Pregnant little person and me. Believe me now?! >:(

Oh. And I slept right next to a dead body for 3 days. Gotta love Isaan funerals. 

But all in all, my summer was goodio. Traveled with a friend for a month in Thailand, then I met an ex boyfriend near the Burmese border who I went on a road trip with. After that, I met up with my some Thai chicks I used to live with once and partied on with them in Bangkok. Crazy times.

One day we ended up in a strip club at Patpong street. Right after we entered, some chick started doing a ping pong strip show. It wasn't because we were like ''aw hell yeah, we're going to a strip club!''. We were basically just going to pick up a friend who works in the club as a bar girl, but because she was 30 minutes late, we waited for her in the bar.. and then, BAM! Ping pong show in your face!

Fuck, it was gross. I mean, I didn't know chicks could have so much stuffed up inside. especially not living things.. Like a toad. But that was nothing compared to the razor blades.. Fuck. Ping pong shows are fucking sick. 

When I saw the razor blades, I wanted to choke on my own vomit while smashing my face in with a hammer. I fucking wanted to die instead of watching it, that's how gross it was. Especially because the uhmm.. Dancer? Fucked up with the razor blade show and ended up cutting her vagina instead. Auch. 

But yeah. Seeing that side of Bangkok really made me sad. Especially because I saw all those old fat white men acting like they're kings and what not. 

I hate when people are judging couples where the female is Asian, but seeing sex tourists in my country, taking advantage of poor young girls? FUCK. 

I fucking hate sex tourists. And this actually reminds me of once  I encountered a sex tourist on the beach in Thailand. I was sunbathing alone (my friend were buying ice creams for us meanwhile) when this old creep in speedos walked over to my spot (why are all the old creepy sex tourists in Thailand wearing speedos and man thongs?). It was a pretty nasty sight. My eyes pretty much burned up by seeing him standing in front of me. 

Anyway. He smiled to me and moved closer and closer. Eow. Then he asked me where the Pattaya sign was.. Which was a pretty stupid question, since the Pattaya city sign is as big as the Hollywood sign.. So yeah, the Pattaya sign was as fucing easy to spot as the freaking sea from where we stood. 

And then after moving a bit too close to me, he asked me ''how much?'' and then continued saying ''I will pay you good'' in really loud and slow English. 

Unfortunately for him, I could clearly understand his accent. Why? Because the man was from the same country where I moved to as a child. Denmark. 

So I guess I scared him pretty badly, when I said ''fuck af med dig, klamme stodder'' in perfect Danish, which basically means fuck off you gross perv. 

I guess that was a bit rude of me to say that, I mean, I could just have said ''please go away'', but argh. I really can't stand sex tourists. And the fact that he thought that he could just walk up to me like that and ask ''how much?''. Nasty!

And now moving on to the funeral story. 

Well. My great grandmas BFF died. And when there's a funeral going on in the village, it basically means that it's time for hardcore partying to honor the deceased. Relatives and friends and their friends friends and their relatives and their friends and etc were invited. People ate, drank and gambled (which is illegal in Thailand but considered ok during funerals) for a few days in a row.. Next to the freezer thing in the living room where the deceased laid. 

And when it was time to sleep, all the important relatives slept in the same room where the deceased were, to keep the spirit of the deceased from being too lonely. After a few days, the partying stopped and the body was cremated at the local wat (temple), where the entire village were gathered to show one last respect to my grandmas BFF (I love that word). 

I wish funerals in the West would be like this. I'm not talking about sleeping right next to corpses, but I like the part about gathering people to celebrate your loved one by remembering all the good things and honoring that by trying to stay positive. I didn't see anyone at the funeral cry. But that is not because people were cold, that's just because we don't have the same view  on death as most Westerners do. That's at least what I think. 

ANYWAY. Bangkok pics:

A beggar at Pratunam market with paralyzed legs

Pratunam wholesale market

A grandma and a little girl sitting outside their family run store.

Street vendor at Pratunam

An old Isaan man taking a break in the big city & local Bangkok people 

Bangkok

Street vendor

Even though he's just a kid, I'm not that worried about him. Kids who grow up in Bangkok are really tough and they're  amazingly good at keeping up their spirit, even though they live harsh lives.

Me and doctor Nitiporn, my soulmate. 

Taken at the Panthip Plaza bridge

A woman and her young daughter begging at the Panthip bridge

2$ shoes, anyone?

A hippie guy and his girlfriend who walked right past the little beggar girl while talking about saving the world, ending poverty, world peace and whatnot.

Chinatown - Yaowarat road area. 

The man insisted on showing me and Mathias (the guy I was traveling with) his gangrene infected toes. First he asked for a few baht. Fine enough. Then he asked for more. Again, fine enough. Then he asked for 1000.. And then 1200.. And then 1500

I tried walking away from him, but damn  he was fast!

A mother comforting her son. Love :)

Monks checking out laptops

Paralyzed beggar

Rich bitch. Oh wow, 63 dollars!

Thai street food. Yum!!

A group of friends eating at the same spot. Cross the bridge at Platinum Mall and you'll see the street food place. They have the best food in Bangkok :) And it's cheap too. Me and Mathias only spent 3 dollars combined on our dinner. Yum stuff!

Nomz!!

Nice apartments. Me and my aunt. 

Om nom nom

Nomz extreme

Mathias & flash

Our samlor driver. Dear white people: Please stop calling samlors for tuk tuks.

Melancholia.

I'm in love with this song. It makes me yearn for something good - which does not and probably cannot exist.

I miss my family in Thailand. I feel pretty lonely right now. I guess I've felt lonely since my mom came back to the village and told me that everything was going to change. I thought it was a bit strange, because I didn't know her. She had been gone for so long that I just couldn't remember her face. Hah, I actually thought that my grandparents were my real parents. 

Whenever my grandparents didn't have time to look after me, I used to hang out with Mawa, another girl from the village who was a few years older than me. Everything was good back then. I liked growing up on the countryside, surrounded by rice paddies, tiny huts, mountains, waterfalls and the sound of wild animals. 

But then I ended up in Denmark. I was used to waking up early, to help my grandparents with something early morning or keeping my great grandma company when she took our water buffaloes down to grass, a bit outside the village. I didn't really mind not going to school. I liked being with my family. Everything changed when my mom came back though. For better and worse.

Suddenly we weren't poor anymore. We didn't have to worry about anything at all.  I was a little kid back then, but I remember my grandpa crying when my mom came back. Both he and my grandma cried while they hugged me and told me that everything was going to change, that our ancestors had listened to their prayers and that I had a bright future in front of me. No more starving, no more poverty, no more bleak futures. 

But as I mentioned earlier, I've pretty much felt lonely since I came to Denmark. Don't get me wrong, I like Denmark. But growing up feeling like an outsider wasn't fun. I love my multicultural background, but sometimes it's hard, not really feeling at home anywhere, knowing that for some, I'm too Western and for others I'm too Thai. And for the Thais, I'm too Isaan. I guess this is why I move around a lot. Because I'm yearning to feel at home somewhere.

Besides, growing up with a mentally mom wasn't that easy. Again, don't get me wrong - I love my mom and I think she is a pretty damn strong woman. Her story is definitely a rags to riches story. I mean, she started with nothing at all. She had to drop out of  3rd grade, in order to help her grandma support my moms two younger sisters. 

When my mom was 15, she and my two aunts (13 and 11 years old back then), moved to Bangkok to work in a factory.. Going from that to be able to spontaneously buy me an apartment in Bangkok as a gift, pretty much owing the entire village and multiple beach houses here and there and going from a 3rd grade drop out to being a boss in a huge company in Denmark? If that isn't a rags to riches story, then I sure don't know what it is. I mean. Jesus Christ. I'm not even 20 yet and I already own a shit load of property in Thailand, thanks to my mom. It feels crazy. 

But I don't consider myself for being spoiled. Because I remember the harsh times, and I'm grateful for what she has done for me and our family. But a the same time, it's what broke her down. She's worked so hard her entire life and she's gone through so much, that she's basically a robot now. She works, works and work. And sometimes, she breaks down. And when she does, it get's nasty. Like really nasty and fucked. So fucked that I haven't been living with my parents since I was 12. But our relationship is going goodio right now. I guess that's because I'm older now and can see the situation from her perspective. 

Anyway. I guess someone would say that home is where the heart is. But what if you can't feel a thing? I feel so numb for the moment. Sometimes I'm not even sure if what I'm feeling is real. I mean, I think I know what a certain thing is supposed to feel like, but I'm honestly not sure. 

I just don't really have feelings, I guess. I just don't care about much. But I'm so desperate to feel just a bit, that I either fake my feelings or do something completely crazy, just to feel a bit alive. Sometimes I fake it so much that I actually believe that a particular feeling about something/someone is real, even though it's not. 

I wonder what my life would have looked like, if my mom hadn't met Lars. We would probably still have been poor as fuck, but maybe I wouldn't have felt so lonely, numb and gloomy. I don't know how to explain it, but it just feels like there is something missing inside of me, some kind of a 'oh happy day'' mechanism.

But oh well, I'll be fine. I actually had a pretty rad day today because of Iben. Here's a few photos from my day with Iben:

And back then: 

Me and my cousin, Dawan. I still consider her to be my tiny little baby cousin, although she's 15-16 years old now, waaay taller than me and already have a boyfriend.. Urgh. 

Angry Asian woman, stereotypes, fail date and IBEN!

Song of the day: 

Anyway. Hi. 




Writing about interracial dating reminded me of a guy I went out with a long time ago. The first date was fine, so I figured out the second date was going to be fine as well. But oh looooord, little did I know that he was going to make me puke in my mouth a bit (actually a lot)

Why? Because he tried hitting on me saying ''I wanna ching chong you up with my chopstick''. I kid you not.  Eow. Eow. EOW!!! I didn't know what the hell to say, so I just stared at him. And after an awkward pause, I laughed a bit. It wasn't the ''hahahhaha lulz you're so funneh!'' laugh, but a nervous ''I don't know if this crazy person is being serious or if he is just joking, so I better laugh and pretend that I'm totally down with the joke'' laugh. 

But apparently he was being serious. Fuck. I mean. Really? Thank you for making me puke severely in my mouth. And hell naww boy, you cannot ''ching chong'' me up with your fucking chopstick. Changes are, if you even try, I'll break your chopstick and stomp on it several times, before setting it on fire and then feeding it to some pigs (if I somehow happen to be near a farm).. Or something like that. Or maybe I'll just sell it and make some quick cash. Like this: dude chopped up and used as kebab meat

Anyway. Back to the topic. Turns out he was one of the yellow fever guys. So basically he wanted to date me because of my ethnicity, not so much because I'm awesome, amazing and totally unique (why do people on dating sites keep writing about how awesome they are and that they're good at everything they do? Halluuu, where are the humble guys?) . There's nothing wrong with having a preference, but choosing to date specifically Asian girls because you stereotype us as being submissive and knowing secret sex skills that we are longing to practice with white men because we just looove you whities long time and wanna sucky sucky 5 dorrah? Nasty. 

It's like when some dude came up to me when I was taking a family photo and said something a la ''YOU. WANT. ME. TO. HELP?'' While gesturing wildly with his hands. I just smiled to him and said ''me no engrish'', while I thought ''What the fuck?!''. Then he just smiled, bowed and exclaimed ''bonsai!'' Unfortunately, he didn't understand that I was being ironic about the ''me no engrish'' part.

I guess he was just trying to be nice, but it sucks when people automatically assume you just must be a non English speaking tourist from Asia since you're snapping pictures in the streets. Dear white people. This is getting really old.

I wonder what would happen if I asked a white man something a la ''HELLO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ME? YOU LIKE CURRY WURST. YES? WHAT. ABOUT. LEDERHOSENS. AND. OCTOBERFEST?'' He would probably just react like I did and think ''WTF dude are you mental?'' 

And bonsai? Fuck! Bonsai is a way of planting Japanese miniature trees, that isn't some kind of saying hello or goodbye! And I don't look Japanese at all anyway. Speaking of Japan. I just realized that the most well known Asian probably is Hello Kitty. This is getting depressing. 

Okay, I know that I'm totally overreacting, but all this stereotyping is just making me so damn sad. How can people still be so ignorant when we already have people on ISS (I wish I could be an astronaut, just so I could call someone and say ''oh hai. I can't hang out today, because I'm actually hanging out in ISS right now, you know, floating around up in space n stuff..'') and what not. But even though we rock at technology and what not, some people are still so abnormally ignorant and dumb.

Anyway. I'm out. I'm gonna head off to Iben, a cool girl who is talented as fuck. I wish I could play piano like her! Anyway. The last time we hung out, we were supposed to ''just'' drink a few beers and chill, but somehow we ended up being hijacked to a bar where a stripper did an ice cube ping pong show. Weirdness extraordinaire. 

Anyway, take a look at her. She is made of cool awesomesauce and her hair is fiiiiiierce! (pics taken by me, while we were walking back from/to? a bar)




P.S. I'm not as negative as I might sound. I promise you, I'm not an angry Asian woman.. Mostly. Only a few times a month, when I realize how depressing it is, to live in a world filled with so many ignorant people. Humanity, y u so depressing?

Interracial dating and mail order brides

''I'm not racist or anything, but I think you should stick to our own kind. Asian girls with white guys are kinda gross. It looks cheap. I mean, people would probably assume you're a mail order bride or something like that''.

Yup. That's what a girl named An said, when I told her about a date I went on. Heh. I had no idea she was like that. Awkward. First I was like ''uhm.. Wait. What?''. I couldn't even be angry. I was just too surprised. But right now I'm more ''.. AWW HELL NAW WOMAN!!!!'' I mean. Seriously? What the fuck?


How can people still be so ignorant? I grew up in Denmark, so I've heard plenty of stupid comments from morons when I've been out with guys who happens to be paler than me. ''How much did he pay for you''. ''which mail order bride company are you from, haha'' etc. Been there, done that. As I said, I've heard it all. But seriously. What the fuck? 


I honestely don't understand how people can be so against interracial dating. The last time I checked, love doesn't have a color. What is going on here? This is 2011. 2012 is just around the corner. So why is this still an issue?


Anyway. Moving on. As I told you, my mom is one of them who An looks down on so much. She's an mail order bride. And you know what? I'm pretty damn proud of her. I think it's pretty brave that she moved to a country where she didn't know the language or anyone, to marry a man she didn't know - in order to save our family from poverty and so I could grow up with basically all the opportunities she didn't have, when she grew up. 

If my mom didn't marry Lars (I consider him and not my biological dad to be my real father), then I wouldn't have have been so privileged. I mean, I grew up being poor as fuck in Isaan (the poorest part of Thailand). Sometimes we didn't even had enough to eat and my grandparents couldn't afford keeping me in school (elementary school is free, but the books and the uniform isn't).

So I spent my early childhood waking up blasphemously early and helped my grandparents out with the rice harvest (meaning I was catching crabs and small fish in the rice field for our som tam lunch - I was too young to be any good in the rice paddy, when it comes to actual work). 

But then my mom came back to the village with a white husband. Lars. From that point, everything pretty much turned upside down. No more poverty, no more ''walls'' made of woven bamboo.. All that. 

So to all you guys who make fun of mail order brides: try being a poor single mother working in a factory in Bangkok who earns 127 dollars a month, for which you have to support your daughter, parents and a sister living in the other end of the country. When you've done that, then come back. To that time, I might actually take your respond seriously. 

But more importantly, think about how lucky you are, if you're one of the blissfully ignorant ones, who have been making fun of mail order brides, without knowing how hard life can be. 

This is not about victims, but about caring. This is not about trafficking, but about taking a chance in life. This is not about exploitation, but about survival. 

Back in the days. Before ending up in Denmark. Standing in front of my childhood home and looking awesome in my fancy outfit, posing with the rice harvest of the day. Fancy.