2nd January, 2023

Bangkok Books

I fell in love with reading when I was just nine years old and living in Bangkok. It was 1967, the Vietnam war was going strong, and the United States military forces had a wide presence in Thailand. My father was employed by a private company who had transferred him to Bangkok to work on the “Southeast Asia communications network.” Whatever that meant. I do know it was a strange and lonely time for me, living in such a foreign atmosphere.

Coming from a suburban neighborhood in Pennsylvania, the sights, sounds and scents were so different. The heat was stifling and the humidity wrapped tightly around my body, challenging my every breath. Street vendors were everywhere peddling the local quisine. Though I love Thai food now, to an American child the taste of fish oil wasn’t exactly appealing. Spices like cumin, lemongrass and garlic rose from the portable kitchens and clung to the stagnant smell of sewage. The aroma followed us as we walked along Sukhumvit Avenue watching hundreds of cars weaving in and out, honking their horns. A Buddhist monk dressed in an orange robe sat at a corner, setting himself on fire in protest of the Vietnam war. It was chaotic and unsettling. One afternoon I wasn’t allowed to leave the house because a woman had been hit by a car and died in the intersection up the street. She was left there for hours. Apparently, in Thailand the first person to touch the deceased must tend to the burial and funeral. Or at least that is what I was told. This was a culture I was struggling to understand. But being so young and not able to speak the language, I was at a loss. I turned inward and longed for some form of communication. I found it in the imaginary world of stories.

While in Bangkok, I attended the Catholic School, Raumrudee. Not because my parents were religious, or even Catholic for that matter. It was the least expensive choice. But it was a good choice and I thrived there. It was a place I could make friends and one of them invited me to her home for a sleepover. For entertainment, her mother took us to a book store. One that had both new and used books. I still remember that smell of worn paper between the book covers. It was a two-story building and on the second floor were children’s books in English. It is there I discovered Nancy Drew and my love for mysteries.

My love for mysteries continues to this day. I loved The Last Thing He Told Me and just finished Glass Houses by Louise Penny. I am usually reading two books at a time; one novel and one non-fiction. I am currently reading All the Light You Cannot See and Sophisticated Giant: The Life and Legacy of Dexter Gordon. I would love to hear what you are reading.