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I have this weird feeling that if I can look at a particular event objectively – without attaching morality, emotions, or judgement to it – it feels as if I have successfully separated my soul from my body, leaving behind a mechanical robot of a shell. And when that soul returns to the body after days of absence, there are repercussions – and just hours ago while reading the newspapers on the couch of my living room, I felt the entire rawness of the emotions flooding right back to me and I was slowly being enveloped by fear.

The first thought that struck me was that I was having a panic attack, but then I realised it wasn’t. It was paranoia filing in, probably an unfortunate genetic keepsake from my grandma – and when that happened, all I had to do was to talk to someone, and start the process of soul separation again. If you ask me how I manage to do that, I really don’t know how to begin to explain.

It isn’t literally separating my soul of course – it was just my own method of keeping my emotions in check. And by in check, I mean restraining them like a warden would over delinquent inmates.

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My Quantitative Analysis VL (Visiting Lecturer) is from Melbourne and will be teaching the subject for 4 days this entire week – he’s young (I reckon he’s around his late 20s/early 30s), good-looking, bespectacled, spices up the class with humour as best he could which surprisingly works, for a subject that’s harder than Add Maths. :/ I mean, anyone who could make a mathematical subject interesting and keeps people focused throughout the 2 hours (especially for one who tends to fall asleep easily like me) has to be really, really good in teaching.

For once, I’m actually looking forward to QA.

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My Price Theory mid-sem test on Tuesday was alright – the 10 MCQ questions were okay, most of them came out exactly the same from our exercise book, while the three short essay questions were a little tough. Nevertheless, our lecturer surprised us by giving us a hint WTF to one of the tougher questions which I managed to do in the end. No wonder my classmate Rebecca warned me that there was once during summer in Prices & Markets, she blatantly released the answers during the exams WTF..

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Day 3 – Sunday, 27th July 2008

Note: MANY PICTURES AHEAD, NOT SUITABLE FOR SLOW CONNECTION. As usual, some pictures can be enlarged – you will know that if you hover your mouse cursor over a pic, and it changes into a pointing hand.

I was woken up at 6.30am by Matt. I was in a deep, satisfying sleep thanks to the beer from the previous night, dreaming of running away from dinosaur-like monsters in the jungle wtf. When Matt shoke me to wake me up, it felt as if I was being forcefully dragged to reality by hand.

Free breakfast provided by our guesthouse. :) Mine was a typical American breakfast of scrambled eggs with ham – you can choose from four different options.

We then went to Bungsamran Fishing Lake which was about 30 minutes away from Bangkok by taxi at about 8 or 9am – to fish! Well, it was really Matt and Albert’s desire really (you’ve to pay about RM100 to rent a rod IIRC, not inclusive of the entrance fee), and I was just tagging along, but I had fun as well.

We met Sifu Voon, a forumer of a fishing forum whom Matt got to know from (wearing blue tee in this pic) – he’s a Malaysian working in Thailand for 5 months already, and his real name’s Peter.

Took the opportunity to snap around the private fishing lake with my new Canon 10-22 baby. :) Definitely my favourite pic of this entire trip – minimal post-processing was done as it was straight out of the camera.

Albert getting ready to throw his line as far as he can with the bread-coconut something bait.

Peter throwing his line.

The row of wooden houses in front the lake that were available for rent for 600baht and above I think – there were many angmohs fishing from the houses.

The wooden shelter – I actually took a nap on the bench at one point.

Peter’s rod had an ‘alarm’ that would ring whenever a fish tugged at his line, and this pic was of him reeling it in just after maybe 10-20 minutes of casting his first line!

And a fish is caught! So huge omg.

The three anglers posing with the fish.. which the local called as ‘baby’ WTF. Because all the fishes that were in that pond were incredibly large.. wait till they come to Malaysia’s private ponds and see the measly sizes. =.=”

To be quite honest, I didn’t get the idea of fishing as a hobby, especially the catch-and-release kind. But it was hell of an interesting experience though (I’m always a sucker for experiencing something new). Sounds of the line being pulled – a creaky eeee – occasionally interspersed maybe every 20 minutes or so in the sunny, windy day, and all of us would turn to look to see what catch they had.

Another look of my fishing friends – of Matt trying to reel in a catch.

I listened to their stories while they were fishing, and I was lying down, enjoying the breeze with Sputnik Sweetheart in my hand – they also used loads of fishing terminology: spool, reel, stopper, and other fish names; stories like how Peter nearly caught a kelong in Johor, how Matt started his fishing journey and got really hooked when he caught his first fish, etc.

I don’t understand what they were talking about most of the time about angling, but I’m sure it’s the same thing if I talk about aperture or 10-22 or CPL filter with other photography enthusiasts. Or when Shawn proudly show off his collection of knives in which I don’t quite understand the joy of having a collection of culinary utensils. Or car enthusiasts with their car modifications. Or stamp-collectors with their stamps.

Peter trying to catch Matt and Albert’s fish with a net.

Me tumpang glamour wtf (hooray for Gorillapod for hanging off an unused chair with self-timer).

Matt with said fish.

Me pretending to have caught the fish wtf. As this is a catch-and-release pond, we released the fish into the pond after satisfied with snapping pics with the fish while the poor fish tried to catch its breath wtf.

I whiled the time away by reading Haruki Murakami’s Sputnik Sweetheart on a bench, my leg on top of my thigh, switching legs sporadically. Large grey clouds were also overhanging throughout the afternoon, but sufficient sunlight still shone through to cast warming heat.

As I read Sputnik Sweetheart, my imagination wisped into a collection of concentrated thoughts of love, of relationship. Words coated with honey and sugar, like a bait for a fish, reeled me in – and I’m dragged into a maelstrom of perpetual confusion, but at the same time, left me enjoying the murals of etched affections. I was in guarded love. And so I impulsively sent a few international SMSes.

I wish I could explain in excruciatingly minute detail of my experiences to enable all of you to experience what I experienced – like how as I walked on the wooden planks of the fishing pond, I noticed, for no reason at all, the deep, bass pats of my footsteps; the mild fish smell (in which I lack the ability to describe its unique smell, except to name it just that – ‘fish smell’) that wafted through the air as someone dragged what looked like a 5kg fish out onto the wooden planks; and the people that I passed by: the group of Thais in their mid-20s laughing as they relaxed under the comforts of the shaded roof, the old white guy with an old dark-skinned Thai woman sitting next to each other, the white guy talking mostly.

And I can never describe in detail of the people we met or saw: how their hair looked like, or their noses, or cheeks, or wrinkles, to enable my readers to picture not a vague glimpse. And because I lack all these, my descriptions merely scratched the surface of worlds in shocking contrasts, of the worlds I breathe in. And thus the only understanding that you may grasp of my experiences at times are the outlines, the barebones, the fleeting glances that never leave a deep impression.

There was this local who kept catching fish after fish every 5-10 minutes NO KIDDING. While.. my angling friends caught only 2 between themselves throughout the entire day wtf.

The four of us with the local (in red bandana) who caught the fish.

Me trying to keep the fish from slipping from my hands – I was like gripping awkwardly on its fins/gills/whatever the two front extended things are called.

We then went back to Peter’s apartment (and cancelled our plans of going back to Chatuchak to purchase a KFC tee.. we wanted to wear the same tee together) called The Room, which costs about RM3000/month for rental WTF (but paid for by his employers, and the fee also includes electricity and water bills, etc). It was a really nice, comfy, executive place though – we sat down and talked about various stuffs, then moved on to Malaysia and its corruption, political issues, complained about Bodohwi wtf.

Family photo! From left to right: Matt, Peter, Albert, me.

A wide-angle perspective of his very sleek apartment.

After talking for about an hour, at about 7pm we then went to Chinatown! We were also supposed to meet up with Peter’s girl-friends who were also in Bangkok.

A look at the streets of Chinatown.

Another look.

From the top of the restaurant that we were in.

Delicious fat juicy prawns (it was the first time I tried ‘em).

Our table – pic can only be achieved with my ultra wide angle lens. :)

My plate of food.

After finishing our seafood dinner, we walked around Chinatown for a bit.

Bought a Bangkok-only food (Peter let us try it earlier in his apartment) – it’s chicken floss done in such a manner that it was crunchy. In Cantonese it’s called ‘gao si’ (dog shit wtf) ‘cause apparently it looked like one.

Then the girls wanted to eat cheap bird’s nest wtf which they did at this restaurant/shop here. We were also charged about RM1 for the chrysanthemum tea they served swt.

Group photo!

Using two taxis, we then went back to our Khaosan Road (except for Peter) to show the girls around. The picture above depicts our Soi Rambuttri.

Another look of Soi Rambuttri.

Our guesthouse quite terror ok, got play movies (pirated DVDs more like it) with timeslots and all for different movies everyday! In the picture, I think the angmohs were watching Juno or The Dark Knight.. I can’t quite remember.

Funky lanterns sold near our guesthouse.

Matt also got molested by a dark-skinned Thai girl LOL while 2 aquas approached me wtf do I look like I’m the type that’s into them. :/

Damn cool la the 2nd tee from the left.

Susie Walk Street.

Me looking pregnant wtf.

Me in the explosion of colours.

Random probably sedated elephant brought by the unscrupulous owners to the street – you have to pay like 20baht to feed the elephant sugarcane or something. :/

Girl in funky tattoos (in the middle). Matt and Albert chided me, thinking I was snapping pics of the aquas lol (half of the head at the bottom of the pic).

Matt damn brave to ask them if we can snap photos with them, when they were patrolling the streets. Me and Albert with the police!

After seeing the girls off in a taxi, we then ended the night by going to the bar near our place to get a jug of Singha. I had already drank 2 bottles of 350ml Leo (again about RM2.60 each!) throughout the night while I was in Khaosan.

A largely long and eventful day.