I Get My Kicks Above the Waistline, Sunshine
Welcome to “One Night in Bangkok” the series. Follow me through Hong Kong and Bangkok while I act as my Rotary Club‘s delegate to the International Convention in Thailand, with posts that are titled from the lyrics of the song “One Night in Bangkok.” If this is your first visit to the series, please click here to begin at the beginning.
By now, you are on your way to Scotland with your dad and your grandparents. Hearing what you think of that windswept landscape, so much a part of who you are, makes me wish away time until you can describe it to me. And, we can giggle. I love acting like a nine-year-old girl with a lovely nine-year-old girl like you.
I know you will fit in there better than I do in Hong Kong. In spite of your multiple attempts to teach me how to say hello, to introduce myself, to say ANYTHING in Mandarin, I am hopeless. My dim brain remembers none of it. I can see the intensity etched in your freckled face as you schooled me in Chinese, can even hear the patience in your voice, but all the rest of it fled.
The best thing about being here is that you are everywhere. When I see Chinese characters, I wonder what you’d think of them, how many you’d be able to read to me. I see stooped, gnarled women and fish squirming in dying juices in the market pan, inhale the bloody scent of the open air butcher shop, listen to the opus of unusual sounds ringing in my ears.
Until then, I took some pictures for you to try to read someday.
Neon. These signs are everywhere.
They fire a gun for charity every day at this spot. I thought the contrast of color and character was pretty.
A nod to my readers, who will surely get a kick out of the mistranslated word.