Walking in Bangkok, I could pass a thousand faces on the street without anyone saying "hello" or "excuse me". In the city, beyond my small group of factory friends, I rarely met any new people.
In my hometown village, everyone knows one another....
When a baby is born...
people share the news and celebrate the new life.
When a couple gets married...
people travel for miles to observe the engagement.
And when someone dies...
the memory of that person lives forever in the village prayers.
One generation of family and friends somehow stay connected to those who lived before...
I couldn't say the same thing about Bangkok. It continues to be just another crowded city of strangers. That's why I was amazed that Peter attempted to contact me at the factory.
Back on that July night, after we said our goodbyes at the Marriott, I never expected to see this American man again. As far as I was concerned, it was a chance meeting that wouldn't go beyond one night of dancing and drinking...
Anyhow, in his search to find me again, all Peter knew was that I worked in a factory sewing blue jeans...
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