Thai waitresses will ask you if you want more beer

when the bottle’s empty, not the glass you’re drinking from. That’ll help you lose count, for sure. I still can’t figure out what that final cube of ice riding on top of the glass is for, I guess to clean your upper lip so that nothing suspicious drips into the glass. It’s hard to drink with an ice cube up your nostril, though there it is, every time. The East loves conformity and predictability every bit as much as the West loves diversity and individualism. In Thailand audiences clap when a performer begins a song, and usually know every word that comes out of the human jukebox’s mouth. Only in a large show would a performer be expected to do a set of his own choosing. Thai ‘artists’ delight in reproducing a picture in its exact detail as if a human camera, while most non-representational work looks stiff and forced, derivative, that is, copied. To copy from a photograph would evoke abject horror in any art class in the Western world. In the Night Bazaar in Chiang Mai, they take center stage.

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