The Squeaky Robot

A Meddling Robot in a Human's World

Archive for

Burmese Days

Posted on February 18, 2015

These days I’m in Myanmar, and these days reliable Internet isn’t a thing anymore and neighborhood-wide power outages are very reliable. All my writing regarding this country so far is scrawled on the backs of forlorn receipts and tickets, and I’ve nowhere to put them (Posting a post about why I can’t post has taken me two hours.) For the best, though, as Burma is one of the most compelling places I’ve ever been and it would be a shame to squander it in a dusty Internet cafe surrounded by teenage boys playing World of Warcraft. So until I’m forced to leave this place that has so captured my heart, so much so that I’m seriously considering moving here, The Squeaky Robot will take…

Pookie

Posted on February 9, 2015

DSC_1358

I spent my last night in Bangkok watching older women doing Tai Chi in Romaneenart Park. I intended to sit there and read a little, but then Pukky (pronounced “Pookie”), a freelance business consultant, joined me. We talked for a long time about all things, and when her Tai Chi friends took a break, they sat with us too.

As much sensational attention as this city gets abroad – the Red Lights, the drugs, Khao San – these places in reality cover a few blocks of pavement out of thousands. What is left is everything else: a city just as chaotic and calm as the next, with people from more walks of life than our tiny brains can fathom, and troupes of smiling ladies doing light cardio together in the purple glow of dusk.

Phitsanulok

Posted on February 5, 2015

Phitsanulok is a place you go if you want absolutely nothing to happen to you. In the best way possible. A quick Google search of the small city will reveal that it was the birthplace of kings and the epicenter of central Thailand’s ancient military strategies. But the place is devoid of foreign faces, making it a sweet departure from the tour-ridden roads of Old Chiang Mai.

What was left was color and schoolchildren walking home and people carrying on, glimpses into a Thailand that is just for Thais.

DSC_1266 DSC_1150 DSC_1222 DSC_1218 DSC_1180 DSC_1202

The cat wasn’t sure if I was real and I wasn’t sure if the cat was real.

DSC_1141 DSC_1248 DSC_1263 DSC_1262 DSC_1174

They were snipers in another life.

DSC_1255 DSC_1187 DSC_1214

There Can Be No Us

Posted on February 3, 2015

I’ve just now arrived in Phrae, a low-key town with airy teak houses and unpretentious local food. A car backfires in the distance every ten minutes or so. Locals emerge out of their dark shops as they see me walking by; they smile and wave while encouraging their timid children to do the same. The lady who owns this guesthouse has a scattered mind. She is bustling around the place while posing me questions: What’s my name? How old am I? Do I have a boyfriend? she asks while absorbed in her tasks. No, I say. She stops her bustling and looks at me intently with thick glasses that make her eyes look comically large and says: Freedom. I will never claim to be…