33 days, 0 regrets. I love it here.
However, to delay the vicious, bitter jealousy my stories will invariably ignite, I will first talk about the humidity in Bangkok.
On a scale of 1 to 10, I would say the humidity in Bangkok fluctuates between about a 5 and an its-a-rainforest-in-my-pants-and-everyone's-invited. I am learning to walk around in this humidity and the heat that accompanies it, and really as long as you keep drinking and don't sit down any place where you will leave obvious assprints, it's not a big deal. In fact, I am still going running outside every other day. If you wait until the sun goes down it is tolerable, not unlike one of those nights back home when it never quite cools off. The humidity is annoying, to be sure, but I am dealing with it...
...most of the time. There is one situation in which the humidity is absolutely maddening. Which brings me to Naked Time.
Naked Time, although the name might suggest otherwise, is one of the few unpleasantries of living in Bangkok. Naked Time is the essential period of at least five minutes during which one must remain unclothed after taking a shower. This is the only way to get completely dry on an I'm-steaming-potatoes-in-my-trousers kind of day. No number of towels can replace Naked Time. No amount of rolling around on your bed like a dog with an itch on his back can replace Naked Time. Nothing can replace Naked Time. Nothing.
I learned this today.
It was one of those potato days, but I went running anyway, and then took a shower. When I got out, I realized I was late for a dinner with people from work. After using five (yes, 5) different towels and carrying out several impressive renditions of the Curly Shuffle across my bed, my back was still more a candidate for a squeegee than a shirt. However, I didn't want to be any later, so I skipped Naked Time.
Do not skip Naked Time. Never, ever skip Naked Time. If you skip Naked Time, here is what will happen:
Threads snap as you force your white cotton t-shirt over your dripping torso. You pull on a second shirt which immediately becomes damp to the touch, indicating that your undershirt has already soaked through. With equal speed your boxers become saturated, and by the time you walk out the door your jeans have visible wet spots. They only remain dry at all because most drops of condensation (it's not sweat... yet) manage to run entirely down your legs and into your socks.
As you run to the Skytrain, rivers of perspiration erupt and run down your face and neck. Sweat and condensation take flight with each movement of the arms. Nothing evaporates, and you struggle to climb the stairs to the platform. Usually even a short ride on the air conditioned Skytrain will cool you off, but if you skip Naked Time on a potato day, you will be standing in puddles before the trip is over. Or, if you decided to sit, you will be held responsible when small children drown in the foul pool you leave behind.
Do not skip Naked Time. Never, ever skip Naked Time.