The wheeled carts and stalls selling noodles on the sidewalk, the sign above reads, "Amazing Thai Food" and upon closer inspection you realize your food choices are limited to fried grasshopper, mole cricket, cockroach, and for the truly daring fried scorpion. All whole and looking like they could be sitting in a musuem for bugs.
The stink of the air filled with the smells of garbage, urine, diesel fumes, human odors and feces all combining to form the Bangkok Perfume. It is free to all who walk its streets. A soup of humanity dished out by the minute--eat whatever you want, but the stuff you don't like is in there too, confronting your morality, assaulting your righteousness and challenging your beliefs. You don't have to eat the stringy beef, but you can't ignore it either. That is the Bangkok stew: love it or leave it. It is a mixture of sex, morals, smells, tastes, and life all scooped into your bowl. You can try to ignore it or even discard it, but before you discard it you have no choice but to look at all its flaws and then set it aside.
The Theravada Monks seem to pay no heed as they stroll barefoot through the streets with their Kaat living the eightfold path and the understanding of Dharma passed down to them from Siddhartha's Buddhist Teachings.
