Bangkok is indeed a very beautiful place. It can be a little bit messy but still it’s beautiful. Things you could not find anywhere in safe, clean Japan.
I like the architecture; the buildings are mesmerizing and built well to the very-detailed fragments, preserve for the eyes of the outsiders, and juniors.
But the most thing I am fond of is, the locals. They smiled a lot, and the smiles sparkled earnestness and felt warmth. Be it the cashiers working at the convenience stores, the aunties selling fresh-cut fruits by the busy streets, the uncle who greeted me by the King’s monuments, the Tuk-tuk drivers who smiled excessively, the pizza hut workers taking my orders, my airbnb host who spoke manglish-like accent, the promoter at a electronic shop who hurriedly lending me his charger when my phone’s battery died, the westerners riding the Tuk-tuk side by side with mine, who called me out on street “Tuk-tuk!”, a petite girl who timidly looking and smiling at me when I was having my lunch, and the foreigner I met at metro station who nervously explaining me the Bangkok’s train system. They were pretty much the same, of reminding me of my home, and reflecting compassion i would get to linger in sweetness of home.
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