the underwater poems

So, the job is over, more or less. Today there was a launch party, and tomorrow there will be another, allowing us all opportunities to suppliment our contracted income with another 4000 baht for the two appearances. The parties are held in a swanky ballroom at the Sofitel hotel, and are flooded with skinny Thai hostesses with 100 PIPERS BLENDED MALT written on their dresses, across their little breasts. Basically the gig involves us hanging out in a 19th floor hotel room (watching the cable, wearing the bathrobes, stealing the sewing kits) for a while, then getting fed noodles, then going out and standing in the hall for 45 minutes or so as people arrive, then marching with the pipe band into the ballroom where they unveil the New Product (a blended malt whiskey), we march onto the stage, people find their dinner tables and we go out the back, where we change, eat the vast quantities of left over finger food, ruminate on the best way to get a free bottle of the whiskey, then leave. It is quite easy money indeed.

Meanwhile, I don't think anyone was upset to be saying goodbye to the street-standing section of the job. During our last two shifts (11pm - 5am and then 11am - 6pm) the whole thing broke down and we began to take the whole thing very much less than seriously. Much tomfoolery, as we broke rank, danced in costume, pulled faces for cameras, lied to curious tourists and began a running commentary on the televised Miss World 2005 competition from the TV room via walky talky to those on shift on the street (Go Iceland). Et cetera.

So now I'm back on the old Kao Sahn, reading Thomas Pynchon and drinking strawberry flavoured Mirinda in my little room while the pirated cd stalls down on the street blast The Most Horrible Electronic Music In The World (TMHEMITW).

Other things of recent note:

• The other day when we were on the street, working, the road was suddenly silent and cleared of traffic, and then a motorcade came past with a single black car surrounded by many many police vehicles. Inside the car was the King of Thailand. We saluted, loyally, and then the traffic resumed in its regular, congested, fashion.
• Walking around a few nights back I found the section of Bangkok which is, I guess, the Islamic quarter, or Arabtown or something, and it was quite amazing how much more at home I felt, suddenly, walking along the dark road, speaking Arabic to the folks in the internet cafe, reading the shop signs with their familiar script and smelling the shwarma spits and the shisha smoke in the night air. Closest I've felt to 'home' since leaving Cairo. Which is funny, no?
• I read the book The History of Love by Nicole Krauss and it was really quite bitterly disappointing, indeed.

And, some random news from friends and family:

• My sister got accepted to present her kickass table thing that she made at the Milan International Furniture Design Fair (or something). This is because she totally rules.
• Maytal, who I visited a few weeks ago in her new home in Kibbutz Dan in the north of Israel spent a fair amount of last week stuck in bomb shelters while Hizbollah blasted the shit out of the upper Galilee. Which is incredibly strange to think about when you've just been there, and, like, hiked to a waterfall about 50 metres from the Lebanese border and the whole place is so beautiful and calm. Also, very inconvienient and also distressing for the people who live there, I assume. Thankfully, Maytal is okay.
• Abigail got a longer-term job at the Max-Planck institute in Dresden, because she, also, totally rules.
• I just saw a photo on Pandas website of Jackson with a massive beard. Now given that I have been trying to convince him to grow such a thing for years and years, and he chooses the very time that I am overseas to finally take my advice obviously is going to smart just a smidgen. Ha.

Time for bed, as I do believe TMHEMITW is finally over.