| On the midnight express to Thailand, in the narrow corridor
between carriages that was the smoker's refuge, a retired policeman grumbled
to me about kids these days and declining standards in their English proficiency.
A young Belgian couple shared some unexciting rolled-up leaves from India
with me. The teenage kids on their way to an asrama near Arau very unfortunately
called me "Uncle". And in Hat Yai, I found out why credit cards
can be A Good Thing, if I only had one. Three days later the very unthrilling
certainty of my depleted finances reeled me back home, literally spending
my last sen on the LRT. |
