So: it’s paradise here.




Being here–not worrying about my security, not walking through metal detectors, being able to wear a dress in public, eat food from street shacks without fear of dysentery–feels like a real vacation. Pakistan is a wonderful adopted home, but it is still a foreign and sometimes difficult place: it’s still hard for me to figure out how to get things done, to buy stuff I need, to get where I want to go, to navigate an alien and (at times, though only occasionally) hostile culture. It will probably always be like that. Relaxing in a place where everything is simple and easy and warm and light and breezy makes that better. If I stay in Pakistan for a long time, I will think of Thailand as my recuperating pod: a warm and delicious little place to fortify me for a return to whatever comes next. And to eat as much papaya and pineapple and purple dragonfruit as I can stuff in my face.

(Yes, that’s the view from my hotel room. Or, more accurately, it’s the view from the personal reclining outdoor lounging hut outside my hotel room. Seriously, come to Thailand.)

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