unsolved mysteries

as i wander through the streets and markets of bangkok i ask myself many questions.

aside: the more time i spend alone, the more i hear myself asking these questions out loud. mental note: make friends at guest house in chiang mai to stave off insanity.

few of these questions are substantive, past the occasional, "so what's the deal with buddhism, anyway?" more like, "dear god, is that a bin of deep fried bugs?" and, "who knew entire alleys could be dedicated to sale of dried squid and industrial quantities of fried pork skin?"

but at the front of my mind is this looming quesion, thus far unanswered: in a country whose entire culinary custom revolves around street vendors (blog to come on how i will never eat $8 pad thai in the states ever again), WHY ARE THERE NO BLOODY RUBBISH BINS ANYWHERE?