Happy Thursday Everybody! You’ll be pleased to know I am expanding my blogging wings, and starting a GUEST POST OF THE MONTH column for all my beautiful blogging friends! In a nutshell, this is a space for guest bloggers to write whatever-the-heck they-want! Whether it’s a comedy classic, a rant, or something deep and meaningful…It’s completely up to you! (If you’re interested, my contact details will be at the end of the post)

 

But here’s the important part…

 

Kick-starting my GUEST POST OF THE MONTH is the lovely and talented Zareen from http://zarinaqvi.wordpress.com/ Zareen (or Zari as she is sometimes called!) is one of my first EVER followers, and has always been a huge support. I can’t thank her enough for all her kind words, and for sticking by me for so long! I admire Zareen’s quirky/witty writing style, and have enjoyed reading many of her posts. In today’s piece she gives her account of living in Bangkok (Featuring some toilet issues!)

 

So without further adieu…

 

funny daning

Thank you guys! That was just beautiful…

 

*Warning don’t read this before you eat breakfast, lunch or dinner (or supper as you posh people call it!)

 

 What’s That On My Doormat?

Written by Zareen

Going to Bangkok was the worst thing that had happened to me. In a matter of weeks, I lost my home, my college and all the friends I thought I had made. I was crying when the plane left, because the boy I thought would claim his love for me didn’t. Also, because I feared I might never return to my homeland. And also, because I was leaving all my great friends. Going to Bangkok was also the best thing that happened to me. It introduced me to an amazing culture where hospitality and humanity is greater than any other life value. It opened my eyes as to who my real friends were. It made me realise how much I love my country. It made me realise the importance of family. But more importantly it made me realise the importance of bathrooms/toilet.

My dad was staying at a motel by the time we landed in Bangkok with everyone staring at us and the six, large suitcases we had brought with us. We were hoping to make the ideal honeymoon destination our permanent home.

 

 

The motel room was okay, albeit being bit small for five people. When I could manage to stop crying over “losing” all my friends, I noticed that it was located in a lovely, tourist area. There was a guy who read your hand an give your predictions on the future, a guy who sold lottery tickets and a lady who had made excellent coffee. But it was soon time to shift to a house since we couldn’t afford the motel any longer.

The house we picked was in a semi commercial area: there were two lanes of houses that faced each other but 7/11 and Internet cafés were not too far away. The house comprised of two bedrooms on the top floor,with a disturbing image of Buddha at the top of the stairs. The ground floor had a TV lounge and a kitchen. A kitchen with a sink and slab. A kitchen with a bathroom in it.

As if the fact that the place where you dump food was right next to the place where you make it wasn’t disgusting enough, the bathroom wasn’t that dreamy. It wasn’t very big, but we didn’t mind it as much as we minded that fact that the flush didn’t work. At all. We tried to find the handle (Maybe it was at the back of the tank? Under the seat?) but failed. There was however, a string of beads, which you could pull so that the toilet could make an attempt to undo what you have done. And even then, there were always bits and pieces left.

doormat

 

It was gross. So gross that my mom, whom I usually praise for being brave, spent the night at the motel, because she was absolutely disgusted.

The next morning we called the landlord to discuss the problem he had ever-so-innocently forgotten to mention when we were signing the contract. He didn’t speak much English so we didn’t really reach any solution. I watched him, a little old man in blue shorts and a bright orange shirt, without any teeth. We couldn’t catch his name but the other guy kept calling him some rendition of “Million” so we decided to call him Minion. And sometimes we would call him Minion and laugh for hours.

minions

 

After the discussion ended, I watched him enter our house and make a bee line for the bathroom. Technically, it was his house so he didn’t require any permission from us. Despite Bangkok-ites being extremely courteous in other social interactions, this is something that most neighbours actually do. Entering houses without being invited just because they live in the same lane that you do. Sometimes they’ll also bring their butt naked children with them because bebe had to go pepe in an emergency.

After a good ten minutes, the landlord finally emerged from the bathroom. Either he was really struggling in there or struggling on how to remove the remains of his doing. He waved at me before stepping out. We all waved back. Just then we saw a small tissue rolled into a ball fall from his shorts and onto our “Welcome” mat. I can’t decide what was more gross: the fall of the used, scrunched up tissue or his bathroom leftovers.

 

 

Needless to say, it was the last straw.

We immediately moved places: this time to a building where all three floors were ours. It still had a shower room and toilet in the kitchen ( I mean, really? What the fuck is with these Thai architects?!). But there was a twist: On the top floor, there was a huge bathroom. With a huge tub. And get this- A. Toilet. With. A. Proper. Flush. Handle.

 

crying

 

Imagine the degree of our happiness and delight. We couldn’t contain ourselves. I still remember it. Sadly, they don’t make any more like them *sobs*.

This traumatic series of event have reduced to some sort of neurotic person who goes and looks straight to the bathroom first when shown an apartment. I’m sorry if you’re offended by my bathroom issues. It’s just that I prefer not to take a dump, in a dump.

 

 

 


 

funny daning

 

A big THANK YOU to Zareen for being my first EVER guest blogger! I’m sorry you had to experience such poor living conditions. A flush-less toilet, what is the world coming to? Mr minion could give my ex-landlord a run for his wads and wads of money!

I have one question… Who picked up Mr minions’ *cough* …Housewarming present?

 

giphy minion guest post

 

Like what you read? Why not pop over to Zareen’s blog at http://zarinaqvi.wordpress.com/ You won’t be disappointed!

 

Feel free to comment and discuss below. Have any of you experienced;

A flush-less toilet?

A dodgy landlord?

A suspicious parcel on your doormat?

Or ever seen a man who resembles a minion? 

 

Next months GUEST POSTER/POSTEE is one of my BIGGEST fan Ronovan from http://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/

If you’re interested in guest posting on my blog – Email me on: amandalyle1986@hotmail.co.uk. I would LOVE to have you! (write for me, not keep you locked in a bottle!)

 

Much Love xxx

(Visited 190 times, 1 visits today)