Fat White Man

It is every travelers hope to visit a foreign land, become accepted by the locals and taken into their culture. Well, I was, but not in the way I had intended to. I was accepted not because of my dashing good looks, my huge bank roll or my towering intellect. I was accepted and fawned over because I was,well, "fat."
As I got to know Mahachai and it's surrounding areas better I began to venture out on my 100cc, two-stroke, Yamaha moped. It was a great bike and that thing just wouldn't die. However, I noticed that no matter where I went people were always pointing at me and saying "Furlong Ooin!" At first it was startling, then a bit irritating, finally downright unbearable.
After a long and arduous trek through the verbal gauntlet I found myself in front of a class of Thai adults telling them why I hated their country and culture.
That night I went home and prayed to God that he would give me patience and a love for the Thais as I pretty much detested them at that moment. God didn't reply as I expected. I didn't have a "eureka!" moment nor the sounding of trumpets. In fact, an end to the mental gridlock didn't happen until about 3 months later when I came to a stop light.
I'll never forget coming to a four way intersection with a police checkpoint on the corner. I didn't have a license, a helmet or insurance. I quickly got into the inside lane, snuggled up to a van and crouched down with about 10 other riders avoiding the police as well.
I sat there and sweated for what seemed like an eternity until a policeman noticed by big foreign butt evading him. I didn't know what to do. I was stuck in the inside lane, the light was red and he was making his way straight towards me.
As he approached I straightened from my crouch, trying not to look too conspicuous. He walked up to me, wearing some fake "Gargoyles" and glared at me intently. I knew I'd been had. The officer then did something I shall never forget. Instead of reaching for his ticket book he took in his hand a chunk of my stomach and asked "How much you weigh?" I said, "Huh?" he said, "How much you weigh?" I said "127kg". He then turned around and yelled to the checkpoint in Thai "127!". The officers at the checkpoint then looked at each other in jovial unbelief and shouted back and forth to each other "127,127!".
The curious officer then saluted me and sent me on my way. It was then that I had my cultural epiphane. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I wasn't handsome, I wasn't rich but I was "different." A good "different" I later learned, as a Thai friend explained to me, that most Thais are intimidated by foreigners but are automatically at home with fat people as we project a certain "warmth." It was from that day on that I full-heartedly accepted my new title. Even to this day I'm still called "Furlong Ooin."