Mikes Thoughts

walking and coffee

Not a major thing ever. I just enjoy the act and art of it. Like this morning. Down to Family Cafe. A nice local place I’ve enjoyed for years.

family cafe

The mornings are cooler now so I appreciate the hot tea always served. Along with this is the time. Time to spend haggling over words. Bargaining with my inner barang about what this morning is about. There are still little remnants in me that maybe want some meaning to things. So every so often I strive to find a thing. Easily given up when I realize there is simply nothing that depends on me finding any meaning. It’s easier by far to just give up. To let go. Cambodia is not about finding meaning for me. Instead it’s the acts themselves. The hot tea slowly cooling because we are having these cooler mornings. The iced americano always waits its turn. Others talking.

There’s this thing about spoken words I’ve lost. As time has gone on I seem to have forgotten social skills. I met this one expat the other night. I had hoped to not meet anyone to tell the truth. I’m not well versed in the social acts. It dawned on me every time we meet we talk the same stuff. Luckily for me it’s only about twice a month. Other times I will go have some beer other places. But I get why I have no skills with the spoken word. I’m rusty at it and ill prepared. I don’t know the “things” worthy of some discussion any more. So just nod my head sympathetically. Insert in timely places a “yeah”. If it seems appropriate. I guess in the time of this interaction I’m some miles away. I sneak a look at my iPhone. Checking the time. Surreptitiously look at his soda water. Almost gone? Will he order something else?

I don’t dislike him. Don’t feel the desire to walk away. It’s probably why though when I go out I don’t invite some person to go too often. The chance encounters work best for me. Then I can see some end out there. Some time when words go nowhere and I seek an exit. Thank god he finishes and I’m left to a few more beers.

Today though it’s different I tell myself. No one wants to talk. My wife likes talking but she’s gotten used to me being rather taciturn at most times. I’ll hear her...

Bong. Are you listening? I was just saying...

And I lose it all. Somewhere between listening and saying. I’m crude and rude. The worst parts of being a barang I guess.

Now I’ll have the coffee. Walk. Find my moments in words. Share a few. It’s ok. You don’t got to answer. There is no algorithm here. If you read or don’t read I appreciate it. I’ll just pour some more tea.