Hi, I’m Hajar, 25 years old, and still learning many things in life. According to most people, traveling has to be planned carefully towards specific goals and certain expectations. However, these days, I find it interesting to discover new things through spontaneous travel. No plans, no destinations, no digital maps whatsoever. I just let my intuition guide me, or maybe I’d also call it bravery. It was in Bangkok, Thailand, around the middle of last year, where I decided to dedicate the rest of my time after attending an art event to exploring the city through what I saw, read, and heard.
It was hot and humid, obviously. The sun wasn’t any different from where I come from, but what surrounded me felt unusual to my senses. Almost every time I walked past a huge tree, I would see tiny sculptures of Gods or Goddesses, their bodies and heads separated in different spots within the same trunk. They were almost omnipresent on the streets of central Bangkok, and appeared in various sizes. I wasn’t always able to answer the question of why they were there, and I regretted not asking people about it. But I found it particularly interesting—this idea of spirituality, or what some might call faith, being such a big part of everyday life, regardless of its form.
“Anyone can pray without looking at who their God is,” I overheard as I walked past a tree.
At some point during that walk, I noticed something pretty amusing: a set of small electric fans attached to the ceiling of a bus. The ride cost 10 baht per person, and it was quite a unique experience—even a funny one—to see a bus with such an atypical cooling system. The driver controlled the fans from a plug near the wheel, and they were integrated into the bus’ system. Surprisingly, they did the job. When it was time for us to get off, we relied on body language, since we couldn’t find a common language to say, “We need to stop here, please.”
Gestures also became essential when ordering food. My phone app somehow couldn’t translate the menu or even the street signs. I wasn’t sure if they said “chicken” or “under construction” or something else entirely. Most of the time, I put half my trust in the street chefs and let my instincts take over. It turned out not so bad after all. Relying on my senses, I noticed that there were things I would’ve missed if I hadn’t been brave enough to explore new routes in a foreign place, surrounded by habits, environments, languages, and, of course, people different from my own.
There was one day I will never forget, a memory that will always remind me to be grateful. On my way back to the hotel, I noticed someone staring at me from the side of the road. I was brave enough to greet them without hesitation.
Apparently, they worked there, hoping to make ends meet. Despite what others might think about their profession, they offered me a piece of advice:
What you see is not always what you think, but whatever it is, we can’t force people to be who we want them to be. It’s better to restrain ourselves and not worry about what others think. Respect yourself, and when you do something, do it happily.
The more I wandered, the more I thought about it. Maybe I’d also call it bravery—learning to familiarise myself with new things around me. Now, back in my hometown and preparing for my next trip weeks away, I carry that advice with me on every street I visit.
