5:59 p.m. - Friday, Apr. 04, 2003
Ms Leslie at BS Beach
OK, We�ll put the nightmare on hold again for a minute.

I just know I�m going to screw around and forget the nightmare. That�s why women have more than one child. One of my grandmothers forgot the nightmare thirteen times, the other one, twelve. Since my mother was the baby of that family, I suppose amnesia can be a good thing sometimes.

I�m at Ban Saen Beach, having lost the last of whichever staples and stitches I�m supposed to lose. The rest will have to grow in or something. I still have just enough swelling to make me of great interest to the locals, but the worst thing is I am draining a lot of serum from a small wound behind my left ear where a drain was, until recently installed. I have to be careful, because occasionally the wound will open and a quarter-cup of ooky will gush out onto either my pillow or my blouse� never into the guaze that�s taped inextricibly to every hair on that side of my head for the sole purpose of catching the uncatchable.

Bang Saen Beach is one of those seaside resorts reserved for those who either live here or take the time to find it. When I first asked if I could come here to recover, I was severely discouraged, but I think SARS may have changed Dr Suporn�s mind. I and one other girl are here as test cases. I�d say crash-test dummies for the clinic, but I�ve already used that one in a private letter to Laura, and I�d hate for her to think I have no imagination at all.

As far as I know, we are the only foreigners within 25 miles of this place. There are no transsexual clubs, no beer bars, cheap souveniers or hordes of song-tau taxis clamouring for my fare. Just miles of Food Hawkers, a very few souveniers, maybe six billion deck chairs, and a really pretty nice beach right outside my front door. Did I mention there are food hawkers? That�s the only depressing thing. I�ll only be here two weeks. There�s no way in hell I�ll be able to eat every kind of food I see. If it only wasn�t so blistering hot during the day, I might have a chance, but it looks like I�ll have to do my own version of two dozen special ops night missions.

Oh.. speaking of which�.

I don�t care for the fair and balanced news channel. They misspell words like crazy (you can imagine why I�d be jealous of that), they are wrong almost as often as they are right, and they beat up on liberals like the punks in my old high school used to roll winos. But, I have to say that one good way to gain a better appreciation for Shep, Jeraldo, et. all. Is to spend ten days with CCTV-9, the Chinese english language TV channel as one�s sole source of news.

I correctly surmised that the coalition started out pretty well, since CCTV was running 24-hour coverage of the war ON Iraq. Never have I heard such dire predictions for the fate of all Americans, and especially those soldiers who set foot in Iraq. I was disturbed when th coverage turned into the war IN Iraq, as it was then apparent that things weren�t going well at all for the coalition forces.

Finally, when I saw that the war was getting almost no coverage at all; that the air time was filled mostly with really very intersting travelogues and TV articles, I knew that things had turned our way. That was confirmed today when I found that my TV here does indeed get the fair and balanced news channel and our forces have taken the Baghdad airport. Bless their pointed little heads, at least our news guys make an effort to tell us what�s going on. I guess I have to say I missed them.

The sun is almost down now. I�m starved. It�s time to get out my low-light spoon and fork and do some recon out there among the food stands. But tomorrow�. Really, I promise, tomorrow, let the nightmare begin.

(with apologies to every teacher I ever had� it cost�s money to use this computer, so I ain�t a gonna even try to spellcheck)

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