Jet lagged, Jackie and I managed to wake up an hour or so ahead of her 6:30 am alarm today. The rain is still pouring down. It looks as if it will consistently be raining through the night into the morning, creating the perfect backdrop for wonderful and heavy sleep. Awake and fully rested Jackie prepared to go to her school and sign her contract. Walking down the stairs of our hostel, she wearing my raincoat and baseball hat, I felt like a father taking his little girl to her first day of school. Though, unlike that little girl, Jackie quickly was able to bargain a deal with the taxi driver and was off.
It's strange being left behind. I walked back through the flooded streets towards our hostel and pulled up next to a 7/11. There was a street vendor and three plastic tables with stools set up outside. The menu was on a single piece of poster-board and in Thai script so I could only point and see what was brought to me. I watched her make a bowl of pork soup and rice. Sitting alone, just out of the rain and the flooding streets I tried to pace my self as I ate. It was extraordinarily difficult. Even now, back in the hostel, the flavors of the soup feel like they are humming and tingling in my mouth.
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