Phuket

I've been to Phuket 3 times in my life. First time was in mid-2004 with my parents. Second time was with my classmates in IB, in early 2007, to aid rebuilding work. Third time was the past few days, with my mum, to celebrate her 50th birthday.

Spent most of it doing nothing. Started reading two books together, The Golden Notebook and The Book of Tomorrow. Both acclaimed female authors in different fiction fields, both about women and their diaries. Both going along very different courses (hello Nobel Prize winner, hello chick flick author), providing a lovely illuminating contrast to the women in the novels. Went to the beach and as I swayed while wading in the sea thanks to strong monsoonal tides, I tried to imagine what it was like when the Tsunami hit. The lifeguard kept blowing his whistle to chase people who had wandered beyond mid-thigh sea water level out of the surf. Ended up shopping alot (because naturally of my mum). I wondered what happened to my beloved Danger! Mines! shirt that I bought in Siem Reap as we browsed the touristy t-shirt stores.

I ended up sending loads of postcards out. A roadside vendor in Patong Beach charged me 40 baht for a 15 baht stamp. Later, I stumbled upon a post office along Patong Beach and went in to get more stamps. I ended up stumbling slightly backwards in shock when I entered it. I had walked into the darkness of the post office to be greeted suddenly by 5 pairs of staring, idle eyes. It was the emptiest post office I had ever seen in my life. Most post offices it seems, tend to be packed with tired public, all struggling to get a piece of underfunded public services. At least this is the case of what I've observed in Singapore, the UK, Germany and France. Thailand it seems, is unique in more ways than one.

I realised the tasty 'White Curry' that my class was served on our 2007 OEP trip was actually a soup: Tom Kha Gai. I dreamt terrifying dreams every night. Once I dreamt of Shu falling down a muddy slope, and her slipping out my hands as she tumbled down a yellow-ey mud precipice. Then I dreamt of a tiny dog stuffed into a ball that opened in the middle, and me losing it as it ran out of sight. Another night I dreamt someone was spreading a frightful rumour about me, and I was doing my best to stop it. Then last night I dreamt of R, that we were friends and I touched his arm, feeling his smooth velvety skin. I dream in colour, feel textures, feel real emotion. I dream in bouts, sometimes I go weeks dreamless, then suddenly I can't stop dreaming at all.

I ate a lot of drunken prawns tonight for the celebratory dinner tonight. My mum turned 50.