The Khon Thai Family

    I’ve spoken before about Westerners forever being outsiders in Thailand. If you are not ‘khon Thai’ you can forget ever losing the farang (or worse) label. This annoys me to a certain degree. Not because I think I should be accepted here after a mere seven months but because I think this attitude encourages rampant xenophobia at best and overt racism at worst. All this being said, the bond of ‘khon Thai’ is beautifully strong. People speak to strangers as siblings, very literally using terms of sibling endearment which are built right into the language, and Thai children receive parental love from bus attendants, street vendors, and passerbys. The most beautiful examples of the kindred bond of ‘khon Thais’ that I have witnessed happen on the skytrain. The scenario runs like this:
    A BTS officer, clad in a skin-tight and intimidating uniform, gently leads a blind man up the stairs and into a train queue. The officer allows the man, a stranger, to wrap his arm around his waist and lean into his chest for support on the trek up the stairs. As the officer leaves the man in line he pats his hands tenderly and offers a parting ‘chok dee’, ‘goodluck’ in Thai. As the train whizzes to a stop a business man reaches out to the blind mans forearm, calling him ‘Nong’ or ‘little brother’. This business man, clad in an expensive suit and designer shoes, guides the blind man onto a sardine-packed train using his own body to make enough standing room for them both. Once they are both safely aboard, he grabs the man’s hand and lifts it to the handhold above wrapping his own hand around his to ensure his grip. If you were to witness their conversation from afar you would think they were old friends. Instead, they are talking about simple things; the weather, their destinations, their children. The train comes to a halt and there is a mass exodus at a popular stop. Suddenly, the car is barely packed. A seated young woman sees the blind man and immediately stands... tapping his elbow lightly and working in tandem with the business man to ensure that the man’s sight stick doesn’t get tangled in the mid-car support poles. Once seated, the blind man offers thanks and smiles widely. At the next stop both the businessman and the young woman depart saying brief goodbyes to the seated man. We come to my stop, Saphan Khwai. The blind man stands himself up and takes barely a step before a new BTS officer glides onto the train and takes his arm. The first officer must have walkie-talkied forward and alerted the officers at this station of the man’s needs and car number. The train doors stay open longer than usual to ensure that the man is safely departed. I watch as this officer, much like the first, allows the man to wrap his arms around him on their descent down the stairs. They are chattering away like old comrades.
    I’ve seen such a scenario happen on three separate occasions and it never ceases to re-instill my faith in humanity. In a city of 12 million people, it is nothing short of a miracle that a disabled person is catered to and cared for with such compassion. I’m not sure it would happen anywhere else in the world. As much as I hate the exclusivity of the ‘khon Thai’ clan, I am in awe of their ability to drop judgement, fear, and ego to help one of their family members in need. I hope that in this small but world changing way, I will someday be ‘khon Thai’ too. 

'Nothing Short of Thankful'

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, a list of things inside and outside of Thailand that I am thankful for (in no particular order and hardly inclusive)...


In general I am thankful....
-that I wake up everyday to go to ‘work’ doing something that I love.
-for having a healthy body that houses a functioning mind.
-for being a woman who lives in a world post women’s suffrage, the advent of the pill, the legalization of a woman’s choice, the near demolishment of the glass ceiling, and the acceptance that my brain does science just as well as a man’s.
-that I was born in the United States to parents who are loving, committed, fiscally responsible and weren’t scared to use the word “no” except when I was discussing my dreams.
-that I have people in my life who, despite all of my flaws, still see me as worth their time.
-that I had fabulous public education through high school and that my private college degree didn’t cost me a penny.
-that I have always had access to clean drinking water and a flushing toilet.
-that I have never gone to bed hungry, felt as though I was alone in this world, or experienced abject poverty.


In Thailand I am thankful for...
-public transportation: BTS, buses, trains, and MRT.
-Som-Tum, a dish that makes up at least one third of my diet.
-an endless supply of inexpensive and delicious fruit, likely another third of my diet.
-the Fulbright grant that pays me (PAYS me) to be here. 
-the street food vendors who line Pradiphat Rd. and keep my tummy full.
-the propensity of Thai people to smile at you, always.
-my landlady who is, as my Finnish friend who lives down the hall has deemed her, an angel.
-my Mercer friends who keep me laughing even in the most frustrating and discouraging of moments.
-lab mates who don’t mind my quirkiness, treat me as an intellectual equal, and constantly take me on adventures. 
-Skype.
-love that spans 10,000 miles.


And, finally, this is a repeat both within this post and those who are my Facebook friends but, I think, it is worth the repetition:
To my Friends/Family in the States: The next time you are having a lackluster day walk over to the water faucet in your work/home, fill a glass, and drink deeply. That is a privilege remarkably few in the world have. Be thankful. Remember what is truly important.

Looi Krathong

      Think about the 4th of July in the States. Recall the feelings of nostalgia, national unity, family bonding, and a care-free summer attitude. Imagine your favorite foods packed into a picnic basket and transported to a prime fireworks viewing location. Think about the traffic jams, the hordes of people at the most popular venues, and the air of celebration that is present in those crowds. 
       Now, shed all the Americanism. No star-spangled banner, no military parades, no BBQ, no Jesus, no Budweiser, and no bikini clad celebrants. Add ‘krathongs’ (small rafts made out of coconut leaves, bread or paper), sprinkle in a heaping portion of Buddhist ritual (incense burning, flower offering, samsara-teachings), a sense of wonder and awe of the environment, and a firm respect for Thailand monarchy. Imagine traditional thai songs, beauty pageants, endless celebratory street food, and constant smiles.  
      There you have it: Looi Krathong. A much beloved Thai holiday and one that I was able to celebrate the weekend of the 21st of November. I was graciously invited to accompany Chalao, Wan, Bpioo and her friends for their celebrations. So, on Sunday morning, I set out for the unknown. I hadn’t had time to do much homework on the holiday but I knew from my past experiences with Chalao that any trip he plans is sure to be incredibly rewarding.
      A bit of history on the holiday; Looi Krathong is a traditional celebration, thought to have originated over 500 years ago, that pays tribute to the life-giving and sustaining forces of the principal water ways in Thailand. It takes place just after the conclusion of the rainy season and, consequently, just as the yearly flood waters are receding. It is a celebration of the coming year and a ceremonial shedding of the past years worries, woes, and khamma. It is a way for Buddhists to rid themselves of a years worth of bad douka, poor khamma, and to start fresh in the new cycle of dry/wet season. The krathong’s carry alot of symbolism, much of which I am still naive of. However, most krathongs have a few key elements in common: flowers, incense, a candle, biodegradability, and a symbolic coin or two. Flowers, incense and candles play a pivotal role in buddhist offerings, therefore, no big surprise at their presence here. The krathongs are usually made out of leave or bread materials which can sink into the river and decompose or be eaten rapidly. The coins are considered an offering to the water body itself, a tiding of sorts for one’s year long use and abuse. 
      Thais have a great respect for rivers, principally, the Chao Phraya  (which runs through Bangkok) and the Mekong (which runs on the border between Thailand/Laos). The rivers themselves have mythical powers and deities associated with them. This particular year was especially important because of the heavy flooding that had occurred throughout the country claiming upwards of 200 lives and causing over a billion baht in damages. Many mystics, monks, and traditional thais attributed the waters backlash to the political unrest that has pervaded Thai society over the past year. Needless to say, this years Looi Krathong celebration had a certain emotional weight to it. A hopeful shedding of the past years political unrest and tragedy.
     My Looi Krathong celebration was magical. We started the day at Phra Pantom Chedi, Thailand’s largest pagoda. The temple was in midst of its annual festival so we joined thousands of other visitors in making merit and admiring its impressive size/beauty. Part of the annual celebration is the re-cloaking of the Chedi clothes, the fabric which wraps the main spire. The old fabric is removed and new, bright orange fabric is hung. Before its ceremonial replacement this new fabric is made available for temple-goers to write on. I was a bit unsure of what to write so I kept it short and sweet, “Health, Happiness and Peace to those whom I love.” It covers the bases and, if you are reading this, know that I made a wee bit of merit in your honor. 
      After the temple visit we headed to Ayutthaya province, Bang Sai district to visit ‘The Support Arts and Crafts International Centre of Thailand’. This organization is under the Queen’s patronage and serves to foster, support, and teach traditional thai craft to thai people. The facility has a mind-boggling gallery, 19 separate studies and a prime position on the Chao Phraya River. I was in heaven. Growing up at both the Appalachian Center for Crafts and the John C. Campbell Folk School, visiting a Thai organization with similar values was nostalgic. 
      The best part? We were invited to make our own krathongs for the evening’s celebrations while visiting the thai-silk studio. The ladies there had the supplies to make their own and graciously invited our group to join in. What fun!!! I had been told several times in the weeks leading up to the festival that it was best if I could make my own krathong because it carried more good ju-ju weight than purchasing one... Never did I think I would actually get the opportunity to do so. It was a blast. I learned how to twist, fold and pin leaves in auspicious shapes for optimal good vibes. We used marigold petals and purple orchids to adorn our finished piece. The three women I was with,Wan, Bpioo, and Mee, all ending up producing a single finished product... a perfectly lovely, uber-traditional, coconut leaf krathong. I was overwhelmed when the ladies insisted I use it as my own for that evening. It was the most fitting representation of my last year as a whole... a beautiful amalgamation of effort, love, and support.... 10% me and 90% the incredible people I have in my life. 
      That night I offered my krathong to the Chao Phraya and realized that if my next year is anything like my last one, I will be blessed beyond words. (I already am)

Reflections: Adaptability

      This is a continuation of the previous post and serves as a continued analysis of my time living in Thailand thus far:
       Life is far easier when I am adaptable. This is particularly pertinent when living in a foreign country. To be clear, I love my life here. The last three months have been, daresay, some of the most enjoyable times in my life. Regardless of this enjoyment, life here is drastically different in nearly every way possible from my life in the States. Yet, I am overwhelmingly content. 
       Frankly, I think living here has taught me more about myself (pardon the cliche) than most of my adult life combined. I have shed everything peripheral; people, places, things, food, culture, and schedules that I clung to out of habit. I am left with only me. Nothing else is certain. 
       In the past, living in the States, I would say that I was ‘adaptable’....For example, so what if my favorite restaurant in WNC ran out of my beloved Grilled Salmon Salad, I could handle the Portabello Burger instead. In retrospect that sort of ‘adaptability’ seems like a joke. I cringe just thinking about what a creature of habit and comfort I was. Now I have a choice: Stick to my old ways and be unhappy or let go of expectation, habit and any sense of control to enjoy my life. I’ve chosen the latter mostly because I really, really dig being happy and was fortunate enough to recognize that adaptability was the only means to achieve it here. Adapt or die. (This also happens to be Darwinian dogma, go figure.)
       So, here I am, living a life which is fairly uncertain. Not in a bad way, in an incredibly liberating day-to-day, hour-to-hour sort of way. I do know a few things which form a semblance of scaffolding for my life plan:

1. I have a research project to complete
2. I have family and friends coming to visit me here in the future.
3. I will be returning to the States in Summer 2011 to promptly begin my life as a Ph.D student at UAB.
4. Between now and then little, if anything, is certain.

      I am embracing this time. I don’t care that I don’t know what I will be having for breakfast in the morning, what my plans are for tomorrow evening, or what my plans are for day x,y,z. I am deliciously unencumbered by habit and, for the time being, it is a joyous time. I am working when I want (which happens to be alot), playing when I feel like it, and tackling my life as it is served. I try to keep a schedule of work but if it changes I don’t freak, I just flow. I don’t plan meals. I don’t form expectations. I don’t look at the clock if I can get away with it. I do some planning of retreats and such but recognize that what I am doing is purely speculative and, if it changes, I embrace whatever happens instead. 
       I think that the only way I could have accomplished this, a 180 degree rotation from my Type A, over-scheduled, control-freak former self, is that I am in such a drastically different environment. I am certainly not saying that this style of living is the only way to approach life or, for that matter, a standard I am setting for anyone else or my future. It just happens to be working for me right now. I am happy, relaxed and shockingly productive. I recognize that I am beyond blessed by my circumstances and the people whom I am surrounded by. I have it made. 

Reflections: Stuff, Stuff, and More Stuff

I’ve been living in Bangkok for 3 months now. It’s time for some introspection:
      I left a lot behind when I moved here. I’m not talking people, I am talking stuff. I packed away an embarrassing amount of clothing, shoes, kitchenware, home decor, dry pantry items, toiletries, and other stuff. So much stuff. And, really, I had it easy. There is a house full of more stuff like couches, rugs, wall hangings, artwork, (more) kitchenwares, and stuff that I don’t even remember is there that Brian, a close friend, was kind enough not to want removed when he moved in. It makes me a little queasy even thinking about going back to all that stuff. Whatever possessed me to acquire it in the first place? 
     Well, as many of you know, I am a sucker for a bargain. Even more of a sucker for the word ‘free’. So, the vast majority (90+%) of my clothes were purchased at low-cost consignment and second-hand shops and the greater majority of my non-clothing items were acquired as hand-me-downs, gifts, or from the distribution of my late grandmother’s estate. So, in some ways, I can breathe a sigh of relief.... at least I didn’t spend an unfathomable amount of money on all that stuff. 
      But, still. What is a 22 year old woman doing with so much freaking stuff? Its not like I need it to be happy. I’ve proven that. I am perfectly content with the stuff I have in my possession right now... and all of it fits into two bags and a backpack. (And 12 lbs of it is the freaking blender I hauled halfway around the world) Even still, the amount of stuff I have here borders on too much. Case in point: I have to do laundry about once a month. Not even kidding. ONCE A MONTH. And, when I do, there are still clean things in my closet. How ludicrous is that? Positively insane.
     I like to think of myself of the kind of person who is immune from the capitalistic, ‘buy! buy! buy!’ and ‘more things=more happiness’ mantra that I often rail against and yet, here I sit, my mass of stuff, spanning the Pacific ocean, haunting me. Its a little discouraging. In some ways I would love for it to all disappear.... If, in 8 months, I get back and the 60 pounds of clothes that I vacuum bagged aren’t there to greet me, I might just breathe a gigantic sigh of relief. But I know that the easy route isn’t the answer. (And, realistically, living in a mono-climate sort of place greatly simplifies one’s wardrobe.) Once I get back to the States I will need my peacoat, my corduroys, and my scarves. Furthermore, banishing that stuff potentially sends it to the landfill and if that stuff is being unproductive in my possession, it certainly won’t be doing any good in the trash heap. (For the record, I did donate close to 70lbs worth of clothing to the Macon CrisisLine before I left. At the time I thought that was pretty nifty, now I realize I could do that again and still be left with plenty)
     I’d love to be one of those people who lives in a shipping container and can simplify their life to the point of numbering the items they own from 1-100. I’ll also be the first to admit that it will never happen for me. I, like my mother, build wunder-cabinets (a very, very Dutch practice) out of our homes. We turn them into psuedo-art/history/science/nature/family museums. Anyone who visited my house in Macon has already witnessed this. My mantels were shrines that honored anything and everything I found delightful in the world. I built cairns out of rocks on my fireplace to imbibe peace and I displayed art that I cherished to remind me of people/places/experiences that I loved. I don’t want to lose any of that. That isn’t the kind of ‘stuff’ I am talking about. I am talking about the slowly amassed, non-sentimental, utterly pointless things: Clothes, junk-mail, tupperware, knick-knacks, paper, magazines, etc etc etc. Needless to say, I will say that I will be making a conscious effort to reduce the amount this nonsensical stuff in a few key ways:
1.   I’ll be going through the masses of stuff I left behind and re-evaluating what I use it for and how my life would change without it.
2.    I won’t be getting more stuff just for the sake of satisfying a momentary longing for it. I didn’t think I did this to begin with; I am one of those people that mulls over big purchases for an achingly long time BUT I clearly need to do some more mulling, especially in the clothing department... even when I find a rad shirt at Goodwill for $0.10 that would work perfectly for Halloween 2023. Nope, not going to play that game anymore.
3.    I will resist my genetic disposition to be a pack-rat. I come from a long line of them and, frankly, I don’t want my grandchildren wading through cabinets containing an army’s worth of meticulously cleaned, re-used and stored ziplocks, tupperware, and take-out containers after I kick the re-used, meticulously-clean, bought-for-a-bargain, old-Dutch bucket...(Both my grandmother’s were guilty of this). So far, genetics are winning. I can do better than that.


Further 3-month anniversary reflections on the horizon...