Today has been a mildly entertaining day so far as far as traveling has been concerned. When I got to the bus station to head to Mae Sai, and even more when I got on the bus and saw the people on the visa run, I was a bit disappointed. For example, the bus was largely full of older (and mostly farang) who appeared to be on visa runs. Most of the few younger people there appeared to have gone native, something that always bothers me a little. It’s funny to see people who are obviously Western think that if they wear local clothing and have a hill tribe bag (specifically Karen, as I noticed in this case) that they can blend in with the local population. I would rather be what I am, regardless of how unusual or distinctive that is.

During the trip to Mae Sai I got to meet the fellow sitting next to me a little. He was a somewhat elderly Singeaporean Chinese man who told me a lot about himself and ended up being a friendly and very intriguing fellow. His surname was Tan (I cannot remember his personal name), and he owns a flat in Chiang Mai that he rents out for money as well as a papaya farm along the 118 about 7km north of the Chiang Mai bus station, apparently selling the papayas to Topps (the supermarket I usually shop at). In addition, he teaches golf to people at the air force on their golf course near the airport (apparently these are officers, as I imagine enlisted men don’t get such services). Later in the trip, after we had talked awhile, he showed me his tour card from the Asia Senior PGA tour, which was suitably impressive, knowing how few people have PGA tour cards. He apparently has a handicap of about 2, even at his age, which is impressive. He golfs at least 30 or 40 strokes better than I do, at more than twice my age.

Mr. Tan (as I will call him) and I chatted a good bit in part because the movie today was so gloriously bad—it was a very poorly done action movie that showed some sort of religious but not very moral man (he sleeps with at least two or three different women and apparrently gains magical strength to fight corrupt cops and bullies by eating some type of leaves that make him and whoever he carries invisible as well as impervious to bullets). The picture ominously suggested that the lead character, who was a very laid back and silent sort of character, was some sort of “peasant avenger” against corrupt and Westernized elites, but without being tied to any sort of moral code itself. Despite the poor quality of the movie, the message was sufficiently troubling to give me pause given Thailand’s current political situation, which is sadly not very different from that of the United States.

Mr. Tan, aside from his considerable golfing skills, was a fascinating person from a biographical perspective as well. In chatting with him about different cultural attitudes towards business, I came to understand that he was one of the merchant Chinese who dominate the trade of Southeast Asia (as if what I have already said about him did not give that idea). When he was younger, he and his brother were importers of air conditioners from Europe, the United States, and Japan into countries like Brunei, Malaysia, Burma (he used to have an office in Rangoon), and Thailand (he has a daughter who is currently a Business Administration undergraduate and piano teacher in Bangkok by a Thai ex-wife). We chatted a fair amount about how some cultures have no interest in business and leave those activities to others. In Brunei, apparently, local citizens are reserved positions in government, food markets, and taxi driving, while the Chinese actually do all the business there and import Philippine and Indonesian workers to do all the manual labor. We also talked about how Laotian, hill tribes, and Burmese appear to do all the manual labor in Thailand right now, as well as how Mexicans do the manual labor of the United States. It was an intriguing conversation with someone who is clearly of an entreprenurial mind, even in his sixties or seventies (I did not ask how old he was—I figured it impolite to do so).

So, despite the fact that the bus was filled with largely elderly people (and Mr. Tan seemed to nap fairly readily, as he was a bit narcoleptic, like my grandfather Koontz towards the end of his life), it was an enjoyable trip nonetheless because of the friendly conversation. After arriving in Mae Sai I went to my usual hotel (Top North Hotel) to get a fan room, after which I went across the border. It was a disappointing sight. Even if the sellers of cigarettes, Viagra, and Chinese porn (three products I am not interested in buying) were less aggressive than last time, perhaps because I was better at giving them a withering glare or a dismissive verbal smackdown, the quality of goods and food was a little less than last time—I ended up having overpriced chicken curry near the market), and the amount of beggars among the elderly, small children, and deformed was truly staggering.

I also realized this time in Tachilek why it is that I don’t find very much there that I want, a lesson that is perhaps applicable to larger areas of my life. I can never find socks because I am virtually the only person looking for them and Tachilek is not a market for specific goods, only for what is massively popular. Likewise, Tachilek has hundreds of imitation glasses but not a single set of glasses that clips over an existing set of glasses, such as I wear and would be interested in. Worse, they would never once think to make or sell such a product, because they are aiming for flooding the market with what is easily grasped or commonly wanted, and unwilling to make something even slightly more unusual. This is immensely disappointing to me personally, but also something that is entirely unsurprising. It is a sign of the times, after all.