#SAST #6 This Is Not Travelling

In the cafe I am in, the wifi password is “sorrynowifi”. I laughed. A classic. I wonder who was the last person to laugh at that. Is it most new customers? Or, am I becoming my Dad?

For a man my age, I think I fixate on what is cool too much. It isn’t about being popular or anything, it is mostly surrounding what I deem to be cool. Funny t-shirts? Cool. People falling over? Pretty cool. Losing your wallet?

Travelling is cool. Well, in my dickhead pretentious opinion, long-term travel is cool. “What the fuck are you doing living in ____?” 

“Did you hear about _____? they moved to _____!”

Being in Cambodia is cool on paper. When I look back on my life, I’ll be able to say I lived in Cambodia for ____ amount of time. But, what is life like here as an expat? Well, it is shamefully luxurious. A life of being treated as royalty. It is not cool…and this is not travelling…but I like it. 

There is a lack of bitterness in Phnom Penh. Why do Khmer people not hate me? Why are they so different to us, or me? In Glasgow, the more esteemed and rich appearing you were, the worse customer service I would give. Because fuck you. They are poorer here, of course, and it makes business sense for them to treat people like me well. But, people on the street, with no agenda, treat me so kindly. Sidebar- they serve coffee with a glass of water here too, just like Zagreb! Just like most places in Europe. Why does the UK not do that? Or does it?

I travelled to Kep last weekend as there was a public holiday here (Pchum Ben). It was great and felt more wild, more like travelling. The room we had was shit. Three months ago, it would have been perfect, but now I’ve tasted luxury. From my experience, you go to a hotel and your room is better than your home. It is never homely, don’t get me wrong, but it is better. More ammendities, newer devices, cleaner…fancier. My apartment was better, that is a new phenomenon for me. The place was cheap so I guess I was wrong for expecting more than it was. Still, my reaction was laughter. It is still funny to me to be in a shit place. God, I hope I keep that characteristic. 

As I predicted in my last SAST entry, I can feel myself taking shit for granted. Cling onto perspective Blair, please.

There is a big influencer culture here. Maybe the wave will hit Scotland soon. I’ve been thinking about how Scottish people, or more specifically Glaswegians, would react to influencers. We would fucking hate it, would be truly disgusted. I fight that instinct here. I guess my problem with it is similar to what I’ve written about vanity before. Muscle Fit. Dishevelled With A Purpose (I was definitely a better writer when I was mentally ill). I just can’t imagine staring into a camera and talking to my “audience” and NOT feeling shame. But, why? Why feel ashamed and, if these people don’t feel this way, why do I begrudge them? I want others to feel the shame I would likely feel If I acted like them? That is bitter nonsense.

It is tricky. Confidence is healthy, shame is healthy and insecurity is healthy. I guess it is a delicate balance between those three. Ultimately, to me, I just want authenticity.

Cheers.

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Two Hearts That Beat As One

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SAST #5 Phnom Penh