Page 11 - Nomads Magazine Issue 7

I turned the conversation to superstition, something that’s a part of Thai culture even in daily life. Many Thais don’t get their hair- cut on Wednesdays or refuse to leave their homes when they hear a gecko. Almost all of them believe in some form of ghosts or spir- its and are particularly careful about keeping them pleased.I ask him if he believes in ghosts.“No, I don’t, but by being around people who believe in them I’ve kind of become more susceptible to the idea. I mean, if I saw a ghost now, I wouldn’t be surprised. However, I won’t ever see one because they don’t exist.”But you’re admitting it’s a possibility so you’re not entirely sure?“It’s a psychological possibility. You’re sur- rounded by Thai’s who are constantly aware of it. If you walk home with Thai friends, they’ll suddenly not walk down one street but walk down another street and they won’t even tell you why. It’s funny. I’ve never met a Thai person who doesn’t rmly believe in the supernatural so it has an effect on you after a while.”Suddenly a ash of lightning zipped by the window. “Did you see that?” he asks. “Yeah. I like Bangkok rain a lot. It’s different than American rain”. “It’s bestial, funky, sexy rain. I love it, too.”I watched the droplets streak the window for a moment, wondering if Osborne ever gets lonely living here and travelling by himself. He is, after all, a noticeably tall Englishmen among noticeably small Thai’s who speak a language entirely different from Latin-based languages and live in a culture nothing like his own.“So, do you get lonely?” I ask him.“No. It’s a mystery. I don’t know why. I have a lot of friends. If I’m alone it’s because I want to be alone. In New York, everyone’s alone anyway. You see your friends when they’ve got time, which isn’t that much. It’s surprising. I probably spend no more time alone here than I would in Brooklyn.”In fact, for his nomadic life, this seems to be the preference. Osborne said he would love to go live in a place where nobody else speaks the same language as him. A place of complete and utter isolation among stran- gers. For him, it is only in this isolation that he is able to truly feel like a piece of the city he walks in. New York didn’t do that for him. “My rst novel was optioned for lm and I had to go to quite an enjoyable meeting in the Chrysler building with some agents. So I go into The Chrysler building and I’m in this gigantic otherworldly part of New York, which is this high-powered corporate movie business. I love it, it’s great. They bring you a nice scotch to the table. That’s fun. Then you come out of the Chrysler building after- wards and everyone says goodbye. You’re sort of stuck there and wonder, “What the fuck does this have to do with me? It has to do with me on the level of career and work, but in terms of walking down Madison Avenue and enjoying it, no I don’t think so.”10