Pattaya, 22-01-2009. There is that Western side of my stupid farang mind always looking for rational explications to an unsolvable dilemma, always wanting to knop that which it shouldn't question, 24/7 in conflict with itself and trying hard to get rich, stay in the picture fast and furious. There is also the Oriental side to my mind, divine since it came later in my life instead of the childhood trained Western and better capable to withdrawn to its inner sanctorum where peace and stability rule my mental chemical processes , shrouded in sleepiness when I'm in the West, a consumer's paradise where a big Mercedes is not just a transport mode but also a show-off to the neighbors. It's near nightfall and the ladies are busy trying hard to convince the punters a shorttime before the ... read more

Pattaya, 20-01-2009. With the Thai sun setting over the ocean my mind goes on an endless narrative trying to understand the hidden structures of the oriental mind, trying to make sence of my own involvement, the very influence this strange Asian society has got on my farang way of thinking. "Hans, me choi-choi you here, Hans, you tell me what happen Joseph, what happen me luuk chai, me luuk saaw?, bitte Hans me poor Moo, Ich will wissen bitte". Moo's head is on my shoulder while she goes on and on in a strange and weird mix of Thai, German and english, mostly to herself not really expecting an answer from me sipping every so often from the straw that sticks out of her can of Chang beer - Thai women like to sip their beer ... read more

Pattaya, 18-01-2009. I look down on the perfect half moon of Pattaya's boulevard from the hill that houses the Wat Kho Phra Bath - Wat means temple in Thai. Down below a heavy cocktail of farang high testosterone and hormone levels rule the veins and arteries inside white fleshy bodies dressed in colorfull Hawaii shorts, mostly belonging to middle-aged western men whose ruddy faces carry a constant grin of happiness due no doubt to the petite hard-bodied local ladyfriends holding their huge hairy hands, often not even half their age. Indian tailors stop them in sthe street offering exclusive business suits at ridiculous low prices, s*xy bar girls giggling and secretly hoping it was them holding that fat farang hand. Russian tourists with a big thirst for wodka mingle with Saudies dressed in their long white ... read more

I looked at you there and then but I don't seem to remember where and when. You lady from the night, belonging to the Isaan clan of females, playing the game hard and with determination. The only thing you have to do is earning the Thai Baht for your kids back in your home village, back in the poor north of Bhumipol's Kingdom. You've come to the beach resorts, Nana Plaza and Soi Cowboy in Krung Thep, you work the bars, you walk the Pattaya boulevard, the seedy streets of nighttime Bangkok, your young oriental mind full of hope. Maybe a foreign husband who will support you, a trip to Europe, a way out of you wretched life. You look with amazement at the rowdy punters populating the GoGo-bars, drunk english lagerlouts and rowdy Aussies holding ... read more

Amsterdam, 24-04-2000. I watch the sunny Dutch countryside gliding by from the closed confinement of a Dutch train. I listen to the conversations around me, other passengers speaking Dutch, outside I read the steet and traffic sign in Dutch, the headlines of the newspaper the elder gentleman in front of me is hiding behind, scream at me in Dutch, the train conductor checking my ticket "mag ik uw kaartje zien meneer?" too in Dutch. Goodbye to the Sauerkraut and Bratwurst People and hello to the Land of Wooden Clogs and Smelly Cheese. Hello back home, back to my job and my house in Amsterdam. Amsterdam, 30-03-2009. These were the last lines I found in my sketchbook. I remember I had to take the train back to Amsterdam instead of two more days of cycling which would ... read more