Being waited on hand-and-foot gracefully is not our strongest suit. Invariably, it involves numerous rounds of awkward back and forth – us reflexively insisting on doing everything for ourselves, then relenting when we realize that we're spurning the generous hospitality being offered to us. If today is any indication, we should have plenty of practice soon.
I'm not quite sure how to act; this whole experience is pretty unreal. I have never been escorted anywhere, much less to the bathroom by a man in a crisp white shirt and tie. I'm not accustomed to having a someone hover nearby, waiting on my every beck and call, offering free iced coffee, beer, Thai food, ice cream, or anything else I could imagine.
Getting everything we want, when we want it, for free, at what is probably the nicest Thai restaurant in the country outside of Bangkok, is really blowing my mind right now.
It is a quiet day at Bualaung, no weddings or parties scheduled, so it's just us and the hundred or so people who live and work in this compound, enjoying the downpours of Thailand's rainy season. We're not sure what where we fit into this behemoth place just yet. Tara expected we'd be hanging out with her family, but so far, they are nowhere to be found.
So, we watch the rain, bask in the tranquility, listen to the birds, and write, write, write.
I think I could get used to this life of luxury business.