As I walk through the street food sellers - food on wheels - I find myself greeted in an unfamiliar language especially when my gaze lingers on the delicacies before me.

"Uh... uh..."

I feel I must break the news to them, I must share my apparent secret, which I though was so obvious from one's first sight of me.

English.

Once I speak this forieng tongue to them I think

Farang (foreigner).

It seems at times derogative, dirty... an insult...
sometimes I am.

As the word becomes stained in my memory I am then assailed by sizzling, sad, now dead animals.

Squid, innards of who, fishballs, sausages...

Mmmm!?

I just smile, nod and am found in a wild battle between my tolerance and logic.

Mai bpen rai.

I breath in.

I breath out.

"Sizzling veggie meat?" I think loudly, in hopes someone can, will hear my thoughts.

They smile, nod...

We understand each other...
Mai bpen rai.