It’s my regular café, less than 5 minutes from our condo. Unlike other cafés in Bangkok, it doesn’t have a view of the soi outside or large windows through which natural light flows in. No, my usual spot for coffee is underground.
To be specific, it’s inside the Thai Cultural Centre MRT station (or what is known as Sūn Watthana Tham in Thai). We are beneath Soi Ratchadaphisek but it could be any major road when you’re just one or two levels above the subway platforms.
Toon, my favourite barista, knows my usual order: an Americano lon in the morning, a flat white in the afternoon. Then there are the odd days, such as today, when I’ll ask for an iced latte, which has him somewhat disappointed; no chance for him to practice his latte art. Perhaps in his mind, I’m less of a customer and more of a fan. A friend, certainly, after all this time.
I open my laptop. The wallpaper these days is a picture taken in Shinjuku Gyoen in Tokyo some years ago. I remember our photographer friend meeting us in the park; we had promised to show him some spots for his wedding photoshoot assignments later in the week. It was spring and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.
Would we model for him? Certainly. Who’d say no to a professional taking pictures of us? Later, we would bring him to the best shop in town for tsukemen. Chewy noodles to be dipped into unctuous, thick broth, heavy with the aroma of dried sardines. Our way of saying thanks, and to get our tsukemen fix too.
Toon asks me about the wallpaper. I tell him the story behind it. He’d like to visit Japan some day, he says. You’d love the cafés there, I say, the coffee is incredible. He nods, wistful. It’ll happen, I assure him. He brightens up, agrees. It’s no longer a dream, but a destiny.
And in that moment, when two worlds meet – Shinjuku in Sūn Watthana Tham – and two lives understand each other better, that is when I know everywhere is here. Right here, in this moment, always.