My room in Bangkok smells like fish sauce. Most likely I also smell like fish sauce as I took a Thai cooking class today. I learned to make a lot of round eye friendly dishes, not like what I've seen on the street which is generally guts but sometimes bbqed bullfrogs or bugs or durian fruit which isn't horrifying in looks, only in smell.

Have I ever posted some of the ways the Irish describe smells? My two favorites: whack and bang. I think I've mastered these terms enough to attempt to use them here. "Some bang of bootrot off that durian fruit cart, eh?" or "The whack of foot we got when walking past the durian cart nearly bowled me over, and I had to take a long drink out of my tea in a plastic bag to right myself."

It's my understanding that one can also use bang to as a "reminds me of" sort of expression. So you could say, when talking about Marilyn Manson, "sort of get a bang of Kev's best friend on the Wonder Years from yer man, there, eh?" Whack seems to be more literal--this is what that smells like, or that specific thing is emitting an odor, but bang can be used more creatively under the guise of describing a smell. "I'm getting a bang of sugarplum fairy off yer wan," for example.

Anyway, this city is one giant bang of durian. I've been wandering the streets like any one of the dozens of feral dogs I've seen searching for sustenance. "Same," I say, pointing to the styrofoam tray of dumplings the man in line in front of me has just ordered. "Same," the cart stand dumpling woman repeats back to me, pointing after the man who has paid 16 baht and is now wandering away, spearing dumplings with a skewer as he goes. I get the same dumplings, but when I hand over my 20 baht note, I'm greeted with a head shake. 32 baht. Not same. I got the round eye discount. On principle, I find this offensive but for 16 baht, or €0.32, I just don't have the heart to complain.

I've only eaten one meal indoors--the complimentary breakfast at my five star hotel--and it was the one time that my iron stomach threatened to somersault. I'm not usually the sort of girl that can be phased by 100 year egg congee, watermelon, sushi and pork floating in grease soup at 8 am. I sternly reminded myself of who I am, and hit the streets for some more satay, fish balls, noodles, dumplings, sausages and nary a vegetable to be seen.