It started off with a random guy who made eye contact with us at a bar. “Hi, are you Thai?” Minutes later, this British expat close-talker had me awkwardly pinned against the back of someone’s chair, practically touching my face with his as he excitedly talked to us about how much he adores New York. After asking us what we were doing later and getting a vague answer, the friendly fellow recommended a few go-go bars that “aren’t boring”. We closed up the bar at the early hour of midnight and ducked into a cab with our new friends, Power, a Taiwanese friend-of-a-friend and Rebecca, her German friend.
The cab stopped in front of Soi Cowboy — the red light district of Bangkok — and we made our way down the narrow street aglow in a rainbow of neon lights from the big signs above. Scantily-clad young girls sat or stood by the bars that lined the street, calling out to the (usually Caucasian) men looking for a good time and a happy ending to the night. Power pointed out a bar she’s been to and we were made to order our first round outside the bar as an “entrance fee”. While we waited for our drinks to be delivered, we sat outside and people-watched.
A loud group of white guys in flower print shirts caught our attention and Rebecca called out to one, asking him why all of them are wearing a similar floral print pattern. “We’re here for our friend’s bachelor party and we had to wear the ugliest shirts we could find.” It was interesting to note that the majority of the shirts are perfectly nice, and the men wearing them clearly had zero taste. The guy chatted up our German friend, asking her if she teaches English in Thailand. She laughed and his drunk eyes steadied on mine as he slurred, “You’re very beautiful.” We all laughed at this poor drunk guy and headed into the black light of the club.
A stout woman wearing a Japan soccer jersey (for some reason, the Thais rooted for Japan during the World Cup) gestured to the stools by the brightly lit stage and we sat ourselves down. We looked up at the girls in white shirt-sleeved shirts and tiny skirts and realized they weren’t wearing any underwear. Neither were the girls on the floor above, standing on the plexiglass floor and swaying back and forth. So this is what Power was talking about at dinner. I looked at them for a bit as all of them stood on the stage unenthusiastically shuffling around like cattle at auction and I felt like an involuntary perv who enjoys looking up girls’ skirts.
Today is our fourth day in Taipei and it’s raining so we’re taking the opportunity to update our blog. It’s never too late!
Before we left for our Southeast Asia tour our friends in Tokyo told us that SEA is very gay-friendly and we shouldn’t worry too much about any anti-gay sentiments. After dealing with racist shit in the Balkans and worrying about being gay bashed in Russia, we were relieved to hear that we wouldn’t have to concern ourselves with those petty matters. Instead, we could stay focused on the truly important things, such as eating as much as possible while avoiding traveler’s diarrhea. Little did we know that not only were we safe from anti-gay bigots in Taipei, but we are convinced that it is center of the Asian lesbian universe.
As soon as we stepped on the plane to Taiwan, we noticed that there were a few lesbians around us. When we arrived in Taipei and started exploring the city with our straight friend we mentioned to her that we were surprised by all of the young lesbians roaming freely around Taipei. Our dear, naive straight friend said, “No. That’s just a girl who doesn’t know how to dress.” or “That’s a boy.” HAHAHAHA! Straight people are so funny.
We decided that it was our mission to help hone her gaydar, so I told her that we would start pointing out lesbians on the street and our code word would be “apple” so we don’t get caught screaming “lesbian” at anyone.
Outside the bus windows, signs were all in Cyrillic, reminding us of our month in Russia. But this was a whole different place, where the languages are similar across borders but for some reason, only Serbia uses the Cyrillic alphabet. Belgrade was all about meeting people, sometimes in unexpected places. We arrived in the evening, looking forward to a week of some sightseeing, good food and a whole lot of down time.
We dropped off our bags and headed to a cute little bar for our very first Couchsurfing event, which was the weekly Belgrade CS get-together. There were about 25 people crammed into the upstairs section of the bar, and we ended up talking with two Serbian guys who gave us the rundown on what to see in and around Belgrade.
One of the first things we did was to check out a popular lesbian party near our apartment. We found it behind some type of office building and were ushered in by the slightly friendly butch bouncer. It was completely empty, and within a few minutes of us walking in the DJ started playing “Gangnam Style”, which probably was a coincidence… Or wasn’t. We stood around the table we were ushered to and looked around the sad, empty place until two women walked in and sat in a dark corner drinking and chain-smoking like they were exchanging state secrets. People eventually started trickling in, and one or two people got up on the stage and played around on the stripper pole for a bit before shyly running back to their group of friends. All-in-all it was probably one of the most boring lesbian bars we’ve come across on our travels and there wasn’t any eye-candy, so we called it a night and went home to watch movies instead.
Sightseeing is all fun and good, but we were craving good food, after having had the same sort of food (meatballs, meatballs and more meatballs) for the past few weeks. We had read online that Belgrade was a foodie paradise in the Balkans and we were ecstatic. Unfortunately, this is a lie. I guess if you had to pick a place with the best food in the region, it might be Belgrade just because it’s a big city and there are so many offerings, but it isn’t a city I would go out of my way to visit for the food. At all.
“Berlin combines the culture of New York, the traffic system of Tokyo, the nature of Seattle, and the historical treasures of, well, Berlin.” – Hiroshi Motomura
If I wanted to move from my beloved New York City to someplace better, I would find myself on a one-way flight to Berlin. There, I said it. As a New Yorker, I like to compare big cities with my own, especially if I get to conclude that, “Yes, _____ is great but at the end of the day, there’s nothing like New York.” And I’ll sit there at an airy Paris café/packed biergarten in Munich/cool restaurant in St. Petersburg, staring glassy-eyed as I reminisce about my time in the Big Apple. But on our visit to Berlin, New York tasted almost bland by comparison, and for the first time since leaving home, I felt at home again.
Unlike many conventional travelers who research and book vacations months in advance (at work) and have the time to do the research for their destinations (at work), we have been planning as we go. But there are more than a few destinations on our loose itinerary we’ve been meaning to go to, and Berlin was one such city. Being uneducated and too lazy to look it up, I honestly didn’t know what to expect.
Berlin is not a wealthy city by any means, and it is understandable based on the fact that it was the victim of a tug-of-war between the Soviets and the other Allied Powers for 45 years after being badly demolished by the end of World War II. Because of this, the city is a good mix of all kinds of people, which lends to the unique cultural atmosphere.
What is there to do in Berlin? Well, just about anything your little heart desires. Using our rental apartment in trendy Kreuzburg (what Williamsburg in Brooklyn wishes it could be) as our base, we spent a week playing, eating (Vietnamese food), getting a haircut in a Japanese salon and educating ourselves in museums (the more educational part coming up in the next post).