So, the world’s not looking great at the moment, hey? I think right at this moment, my mind will implode trying to write anything meaningful about current events. And I don’t really have any new and useful ideas to contribute publicly, anyway. So let me let off some steam by complaining about pecans instead. Yes. I apologise for the irreverence and irrelevance, but I guess you can also think of it an unusual way to complain about globalisation. 

I am annoyed that at this time every year, the content being dished up for my digital consumption, here in my non-pecan-endemic part of the world, features a variety of completely weather-inappropriate desserts. Accompanied by a criminal overuse of the word “cosy”. Please just stop. The only worse thing to read online in November 2023 are brand new journal articles that still begin with something along the lines of, “COVID-19 is an emerging respiratory illness recently identified in China.” OK, there, deep breaths. Cluster-rant over. Don’t I feel better about the world? Not really.

Of course, deep down I know that I benefit as much from globalisation as much as the next person. Probably even more so. I’ve been thinking back to my dental tourism trip to Thailand earlier this year. I mean, privilege check please! It’s actually kind of mind-blowing that my shameless doctor-shopping can take me outside the borders of my own country. I was even trying to pick between countries. In the end, Thailand won because my friends across south-east Asia were very open in telling me that actually, if they can afford the trip, people in their own countries preferred going to Thailand for teeth too.

I was even more fortunate in that my trusted friend in Bangkok could give me personal reviews of decent clinics that the expats go to. And she gave me the wise advice of requesting email quotes and making initial consultation bookings for two different establishments. I went to one appointment, and then the other on my first full day in the country. With the starting steps of general dental exams and imaging, I could determine that both were safe facilities with polite and professional staff (and that an iodine-based solution was the mouth rinse of choice in Thai dentistry). But it was very useful to have the comparison. It made the decision clear to me that I would go with the smaller and more personal clinic where the dentists were better listeners, and had better flexibility around timelines and budgets, and didn’t push for “optional extras” to be added. (I won’t name the two clinics here in this kind of public space, in case a complete stranger makes a decision for themselves that doesn’t work out, based on what I said.)

The reason why I had to take this enormous risk was because I needed very extensive work done for medical reasons (those who know me know that I would never be able to justify something like this for cosmetic reasons). And so I had 9 visits to the clinic over my 3 weeks in Bangkok. Some of those visits were pretty long, and involved having to keep my mouth wide open for 4 hours (they did give me small breaks in the middle). And I must say that the clinic staff tried the best they could to make sure that I was comfortable. They didn’t just offer me an extra blanket under the sterile drapes to keep warm in the overzealously air-conditioned building, they actually tucked me in. They told me that because of having to cover most of my mouth with plastic to form a sterile field, I had to breathe through my nose. And so they used eucalyptus spray to make sure that I was actually physically able to follow these instructions.

In case you hadn’t realised by now, this is a very belated attempt to fulfil a promise in a previous blog post to tell you my story of Thai dental care (and for your information, the outcome was great). But clearly, stories like these don’t come with pretty pictures. So I’ll show you some obliquely related sights of Bangkok. Firstly, there’s this incredibly unsettling Vuitton pumpkin octopus thing (or octopus pumpkin? Which way around is it? I think maybe more octopus than pumpkin, because without those other pumpkins scattered around, you wouldn’t have made that connection) that I had to walk past on my way from the metro station to the dentist each time, until I found a shortcut. And then there’s proof that dentistry isn’t the only quirky aspect of Thai tourism: this is one of the dozens of groups of women (mostly Chinese-speaking) who dress up in “traditional” Thai costume and pose in formation for photoshoots throughout the otherwise peaceful religious complex of Wat Arun. Here are some pics to prove that you can still experience this peace, if you can stand in the one spot and wait for a convenient gap between photoshoot tour groups. At least their noisy chatter prevents you from becoming so mesmerised with the mosaic patterns that you fall down a steep flight of stairs.

And finally, I do secretly want to find some kind of a Thanksgiving turkey outfit and go up to our Global Team at my workplace and go, “globbal globbal?”