Brideshead Revisited describes the tumultuous relationship that forms between two men from different backgrounds who come together at university. I’m convinced that the less functional of the two protagonists is based on someone the author knew, given that the character’s dipsomania and grappling with inherited wealth reminded me so keenly of one of my own best friends from college. A well-off, often chaotic but intensely charismatic individual who fell under the sway of opiates and dropped out his sophomore year. I believe that his downfall came from an inability to find meaning in work and study when he stood to inherit millions. Deprive a man of necessity and you steal from him a reason to set an alarm and find joy in scaling life’s mountains.
That all beings said, none of my wayward friend’s story relates to South East Asia, except as background to introduce Brideshead Revisited and to share a quote from the book that I’m quite fond of.
Now while I had the strength I would go to the wild lands where man had deserted his post and the jungle was creeping back to its old strongholds
While my Asian commode is hardly in the wild lands, the jungle always creeps. Living in the tropics is a sleepless battle against armed insects, debilitating sun, oppressive humidity, stunning irrationality and maniacal drivers. Apart from Myanmar and Laos I’ve visited every country in South East Asia. I’ve been living in my current domicile for the last three years, including two years straight through Covid when international travel was unthinkable. Here are a few thoughts on it all…
The experience
When you hear that someone lives inside a gated compound do you assume that that individual is a community orientated person on friendly terms with the neighbors and local civic leaders? Or perhaps more likely, you guess that they’re cut off from society, isolated from the comings and goings of the common folk?
I don’t live in a gated compound but I might as well. As a foreigner who doesn’t speak the local language, I am detached from the festivities, funerals, celebrations, tribulations, petty rivalries, unexpected good fortunes and mundane maintenance that form the backbone of any social group. While I know several expats who’ve integrated themselves into the community, in my experience this is the exception not the norm. Furthermore, there is a cultural divide that is difficult to cross even for those who make an effort.
I live in a 600 square foot studio apartment with air conditioning and a flat screen TV upon which I watch the videos that I’m always posting about. By American standards my lifestyle is rather humble, especially if you consider my 160cc scooter which the average American biker would find ludicrously emasculating. However, in South East Asia my living situation puts me if not in the 1%, then surely in the top 5%.
Half a mile down the road twenty construction workers are living in crude shacks assembled from plywood and 2x4s. These shanties have no running water or windows, and electricity comes from long extension chords they run from the neighbors property. Even if I did speak the local language, the difference in lifestyle creates a barrier in relation. The barrier is further exacerbated by religion, and also by a local cultural tendency to see foreigners as piggy banks rather than peers.
All of this is to say that I live in a sort of fairy tale. Cut off from community, interacting primarily with foreigners I increasingly wonder what’s the point? Where is this lifestyle taking me? I feel like I’m in a false relationship with the world. I didn’t feel this way when I moved here, but over time my perception of the situation has shifted. My primary goal in the next few years is to move somewhere in America with a community that I can be a part of.
We’re not in Kansas anymore
Changing the topic entirely, here I’ll address some of the quirky aspects of South East Asia that separate this region from the west.
You can’t get pulled over. I’ve found that this is a difficult concept for Americans to understand, but there are no police on the road. If I offered you $100,000 to get pulled over, I would keep my money. In my 3+ years of living here, I’ve never seen someone stopped on the side of the road with a police officer behind them.
Related to the first point, the roads are lawless. A few months ago I saw a woman driving down the wrong side of a highway at night without any lights on. Just one of the hundreds of bizarre sights I’ve observed. Sometimes I rather enjoy the unhinged insanity and the creative freedom that comes with no driving rules. Other times, when a car pulls out in front of me, when someone passes within inches, when a dump truck stops in the middle of the road for no reason, I grow weary of it all.
The weather only has three variations. Rainy and warm, hot and humid, hot and absurdly humid. The other day I clocked the humidity at 95%.
On a macro and micro scale, nothing is built to last. The micro: I bought a new shower faucet and it came with a bolt. When I tightened the bolt with pliers it snapped in half. That pathetic excuse for a bolt was brittle plastic coated in a thin layer of shimmery lies to give it the appearance of metal. The macro: the first house I lived in was literally falling apart. Though it was only 10 years old, on several occasions I found grapefruit sized chunks of concrete that had fallen from the bottom of the balcony into the courtyard. I expect the entire house will be lucky to make it to 30 years. This is common. There are precious few old structures where I live.
There is a strong entrepreneurial spirit which, apart from the economic necessity of putting food on the table, I believe is encouraged by a lack of government control. During the pandemic I noticed that women set up card tables at intersections and sold hot coffee and rice. No business license or food safety inspector. If you wanted to buy the cheapest rice around, and take a small risk that it might not have been prepared under sanitary conditions, you could do so. Personal responsibility is an astonishing concept that’s still alive here. Yes, society can function without 400,000 government inspectors keeping everyone “safe.”
My ex-girlfriend had a business making and selling ice cream. She never dealt with a food inspector or put up with bureaucratic horrors. She had a $50 business license and I believe she only got that after she’d been making ice cream for six months. If you want to see how people behave without constant government interference*, come to South East Asia.
*I should caveat this by saying that the government ignores small fish. No doubt as a business grows, corrupt and non-corrupt officials alike will increasingly seek their cut.
A lack of government and freedom
We talk a lot about freedom in America, but freedom is a broad concept and comes in many different flavors. I am all too aware of the degradation of liberty that’s taken place in the last five plus years, but historically speaking freedom of speech has been the cornerstone of American society. Apart from shouting fire in a crowded movie theater or spouting gross libel, you can say whatever you want.
Freedom of speech is an amazing luxury to be sure, but in other ways the west is not as free as many believe. Whenever I’m in America I find myself looking over my shoulder, trying to figure out what asinine rule I’m breaking and whether some uniformed official is about to give me a ticket. Here are some ways in which the state limits you in the land of the free.
No drinking in public
You must wear a seat belt while driving
Some states ban the sale and use of fireworks
No drinking under 21
If you want to go fishing you need a license
Parking meters and meter maids
You must wear a helmet while driving a motorcycle (varies state by state, I know)
Get a ticket for driving over the speed limit, driving through a red light, driving erratically, driving with a busted tail light, etc.
No smoking indoors
Almost every business requires a license, it’s nearly impossible to set up shop and have a crack at it without state approval
You must have a license to drive a vehicle
A fourteen year old boy can’t drive a scooter with his ten year old sister on back who is clutching her infant brother, none of whom are wearing helmets*
*On one occasion I drove a poorly maintained motorcycle through the rain with a ten year old on the gas tank and two teenagers on the back. I drove very, very slowly that day.
Every single one of those infringements on freedom does not exist where I live in South East Asia, and I have partaken in much of the debauchery on that list. And look, I’m not here to argue that we need to rescind all these laws and let fourteen year olds drive motorcycles. You could make a perfectly reasonable case that we’re better off for having these restrictions. That’s fine, so long as we recognize that rules represent the state encroaching into our affairs and dictating how we act. If you want to see how society functions with a lighter governmental touch, you can visit the glorious cavalcade of absurdities that is life in South East Asia.
Opportunities
Living in South East Asia has afforded me an opportunity that America was never going to grant. Living on $2,000 a month has allowed me to keep my work week to 20 hours or less. I’ve used my enhanced free time to read dozens of books, get into the best shape of my life and spend a few thousand hours learning the foundational concepts of finance and macroeconomics. I have bet on myself and I remain hopeful that I’ve made the right choice.
If I had any advice to share with someone considering a permanent move to Asia, my suggestion would be to study the language. At the very least, learn a few hundred words. I asserted that there’s a cultural divide that is difficult to bridge, and I stand by that claim. However, learning the local talk would obviously be a huge step in the right direction. Other than that I have just four words: welcome to the zoo.
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7 years in SEA and can relate.