You wouldn't hang out with the carnies, would you?

Sometimes, I think expats feel special living in a different country. I admit - occasionally, I feel that way. We're the adventurers, the ones who can leave behind those comforting feelings of normalcy, the bonds of long friendships, and the ties to the familiar, to explore, create, begin anew, reveling in our ability to move constantly.* During a recent club meeting (a mixed group of expats from different countries with different backgrounds and nationals), we were talking about this feeling being both beneficial (all those change the world types) and damaging (can you say sexpat?). For some people, their experiences are eye-opening, leading them to delve deeper into their new culture, realizing that something can be learned from everyone encountered, regardless of their station in their culture. For others, this experiences seems to solidify prejudices they already have.

I had an unsettling experience with the latter this week.

As a quasi-member of the US Embassy in Bangkok, I was quasi-required to go to a security training seminar. You're supposed to go within the first two weeks of arriving - I was a little late. But, I trudged down to the seminar (after a lovely overnight bus back to Bangkok from Mu Koh Surin... more on that later), thinking "it can't be that bad."

But it was! I was told to constantly watch my bag, because "people here in Bangkok will grab anything they can... keep it close to your body because they'll cut the bottom with a razor." Thank you, sir, for giving me basic, living in a city advice. Then, we were told not to use ATM or credit cards because "someone's always watching and there have been cases of stolen cards from Villla Market [a grocery store] and hair salons." The piece de resistance was when he told us not to ride motorbikes 1) because they are unsafe and if there is a helmet, do you really want to put it on your head after 10,000 other people have, and 2) because motorbike drivers are the "carnies of Bangkok. You wouldn't want to hang out with the carnies, would you? They sleep on the street and their breakfast is a Red Bull and dinner is vodka." Not five minutes later, he was talking about purse-snatchers who ride motorbikes. "But, you know, the motorbike drivers won't let them [the purse-snatchers] wear their uniform.** They won't let them hang out in the same area either."

Now, I don't know about you, but some of the nicest people I've met while traveling (and the most helpful) are the people you wouldn't expect. The drug-dealing next-door neighbor who makes sure you can safely walk home or the somewhat crazy-looking woman who drags you out of a crowd to point out that your bag is open. Yes, sometimes there are people who you don't want to hang out with, but judging them based on their job just isn't fair. And, the bike drivers I know (yes, I do take motorbikes frequently, so often, in fact, that most of the drivers on the corner of my street know me) are generally kind and very helpful. They laugh at my Thai, then teach me to say something else. They make sure I don't get ripped off by other drivers. They give me directions. They generally drive safely (more carefully then some crazy, fancy-car drivers I've seen).

So, yes, I would hang out with the carnies.

* Please note that I don't always feel this way, or for some of the characteristics, ever feel this way. Living in another country is sometimes as great as it is idealized to be and sometimes it stinks (like not being able to find the only cough medicine that makes you feel better or getting utterly frustrated at not understanding [everything, shampoo products, signs, people who are supposed to be speaking English] or the constant rotation of friends and colleagues).
** Drivers must pay to buy a vest that is usually bright orange, yellow or purple.