the beauty of the bum gun…
I’ve lived in Bangkok for 14 years, and I still often pause and let that sink in. The nearly 20 years I spent in San Francisco felt like a lifetime and somehow, my time in Bangkok has breezed by. Maybe it’s what they say about time speeding up on this side of life or maybe the pandemic melted our internal clocks. But here I am, still in the same building, still marveling at this Asian megacity that hums and pulses just outside my window.
I’ve actually resided in only two apartments in the last 29 years. I moved into my beloved San Francisco aerie in 1996 and then into my current building in 2011. Both places have been home for significant chapters of my life: California where I grew into adulthood, and Bangkok, where I’ve deepened into myself, older, calmer, more peaceful, and much more used to the humidity than I ever thought possible.
Bangkok never stands still. (And it was literally so a few weeks ago, when the ground shook beneath our feet, due to a 7.7 tremor in Myanmar.) To the south, the MRT Orange Line subway construction vibrates along and underneath Petchburi Road, while another new condo tower climbs skyward to the west. People who’ve never been here often conjure up images from “The Beach”, “The Hangover II”, “Only God Forgives”, or now “The White Lotus” S03. But those are just glossy postcards. Real life here is lived in the sticky swampy heat, in the 7-Eleven queues, on motorbike taxis, and in the rhythmic whoosh of the bum gun.
I would thus posit that the humble bum gun is one of the simplest and best inventions of humankind.
I recently traveled back to the U.S. for a funeral, and honestly, my rear end suffered. There’s no polite way to say it. I missed the bum gun with a depth of longing reserved for long-lost lovers. Why do Americans, and the larger Anglosphere, for all their convenience and abundance, still cling to dry toilet paper? Why are they still smearing instead of rinsing? If you spilled warm chocolate fudge on the kitchen counter, would you clean it up with a dry towel? No! Now imagine if you will how a fine mist of water to cleanse your bits and parts after doing your business could be so civilized, hygienic, and honestly, life-changing.
Most of the world has figured this out, especially across Southeast Asia, in Europe with the bidet, and gloriously perfected in Japan, with the all-in-one toilet seat with sprayer and dryer. But why does the U.S. resist? Is it plumbing? Pride? The need to hold onto something familiar in a world that’s rapidly evolving? Whatever it is, I’m convinced that just one trip to Thailand could convert even the most devout Charmin loyalist.
Of course, Bangkok isn’t just spicy noodles and bum guns, though in a city where one occasionally leads to the other, the synergy is hygienic scatological brilliance. Daily life here is exhilarating and exhausting. Just scrolling through BK Magazine or Time Out Bangkok wears me out, with markets, festivals, concerts, art shows, and mall openings, and so many things always happening. And yet most nights, Shane and I are more likely to order in and watch the latest episode of something on Netflix than dive headfirst into the fray.
We do go out when friends come to town, so recently, I sent my 2025 Thailand Travel Guide to friends near and far. I would love for people to come visit, especially now that “White Lotus” has put Koh Samui and Thailand back on the international radar. I want them to see the city beyond the clichés. Yes, I want them to eat mango sticky rice in a night market and ride a tuk-tuk through gridlock, but also to experience the sheer delight of the bum gun. Because to me, living in Bangkok has been about resilience, adaptation, and embracing the little upgrades to daily life that you didn’t know you needed.
