You are curled up under a blanket in a dark room, fast asleep. Suddenly, you hear a knock on your door, and your eyes snap open.
Chabaa.
You answer, Arài ná kháa?
Àp náam.
Okay.
Every week morning, your father
wakes you up. Good thing too, because the alarm on your phone chooses
to go off only half of the time. You check your phone, which sits on top
of your suitcase at your bed side. It is 5:20 in the morning. At home,
this felt very early. But this is your new home now, and you are not
very tired. Yet.
You offer a morning prayer or do a meditation
of some sort. Pulling the blanket off of yourself, you reach for the
air conditioning remote and turn it off. You are very lucky to have air
conditioning. Most people don't.
It is dark outside your window, but all kinds of animals are awake. Chirp chirp, haw haaaao. You hear birds singing that you never heard at home. Eeeee eeee! You hear geckos clicking. Mooooooooooo. You hear a cow coming from who knows where.
Shut the curtains, grab a towel, leave the room, and make sure
you shut the door so mosquitoes, cockroaches, and geckos don't get in.
But mostly mosquitoes. It doesn't matter how well-screened the house is. They will get in.
When you open the door, a wave of heat hits you. At first
this was surprising. But now you expect it. You are used to being hot
all the time. This is nothing to you.
Prepare yourself. You are about to enter mosquito zone.
Open the bathroom door, go in, and try to dance around and keep
your legs moving so that mosquitoes don't land on them and bite you.
Turn the shower on. Whoa, it's cold. But don't worry. In about a minute
it will feel absolutely wonderful in this heat. Clean up, wrap yourself
in a towel, and get out of there.
Guess what. Your ankle is itchy. They got you anyway. Dang it, you say. Mai pen rai.
Go
back to your room. Turn on your Macbook and listen to some AC/DC. Put
on a skirt or dress. Brush your hair. It's going to air dry, and it's
going to be curly. Bringing a hair straightener would have been pointless.
You hear a voice at your door.
Chabaa.
Arài ná?
Gin khâo.
Ok, gamlang jà maa.
Head
downstairs. Your Pa is a good cook, and he made some breakfast for you.
It consists of rice and vegetarian meat made of mushrooms. Very
delicious. Your family feeds you well. Put some food in a basket to take to your volunteer work. Go upstairs, brush your teeth, grab your stuff, and head out the door.
Walk out to the car, and get in on the front left side. This is
natural to you now. Your mother will drive you to the school where she
works, dropping off your younger brother at his school on the way.
Your mother pulls out of the driveway, honking as she does so. In
this country, honking is not rude. It's a way to let people know you're
there, and countless accidents are avoided every day because of this.
Your street is very narrow. It's about a third as wide as your
street back at home. As you leave the neighborhood, you see signs
written in Thai. You try hard to sound them out, but pass by them too
quickly to finish. As you get on the main road and go faster, you see
cars, vans, trucks, and lots and lots of motorcycles. Teen boys and
girls on motorcycles with no helmets, sometimes three people per
motorcycle. This is not strange. They are everywhere.
There is music playing in the car. It is Thai music, and your
mother sings along. You doze off on the way to school. You open your
eyes and see a 7-Eleven on your left. You know you are at the school.
It's still early, but there are students there. You see them walking
around in their uniforms, the girls with their dark hair braided. You
wait in the library, doing homework or dozing off until it's time for
school to start.
Loud music comes on over the intercom. This is the cleaning song.
It's the students' job to clean up the school. You try to force
yourself awake. You look out the window and see the Buddha statue which
is at the front of the school. Next to the statue is the flag of
Thailand, not yet raised on its tall pole. After the cleanup song, the
school song plays.
A few minutes go by, and the school song plays again. All the
students disappear. They are gathering for morning assembly. You hear
the national anthem and watch a boy and a girl raise the flag. You stand
up for the song and bow at the end. When in Thailand, do as the Thais
do. Afterward, you hear a familiar Buddhist song that you hear every
day. It is beautiful. You walk over to the assembly outside and see the
students meditating. Then they do hand actions to another song. You
don't understand the song, but you could sing it.
After that, announcements are made. You go back and wait until
class. Once class starts, you go help one of the teachers teach English.
The students are fun, but shy. You have to entertain them and get them
involved. Do this a couple times throughout the day. When you have
breaks, go to the library and read for your university class.
Suddenly, a woman from the cafeteria comes into the library. Náam linjee!
She says. Lychee juice. You are excited. This stuff is your favorite.
It costs only five baht, and your mom buys it for you almost every day. Korp khun mâak! you say.
Later, you go to the cafeteria to eat. You sit with the other
teachers, but you have no idea what they're saying because they're
speaking the local dialect. They love to practice English with you
though.
Go home, driving on the left side of the road. All the while,
you're still trying to sound out the signs you see and remember the
names of the Thai letters on the license plates. When you arrive home,
sit on the porch and do some studying. You look up and see the dark
clouds approaching. Oh yes, please rain! When the wind starts to blow and the birds start to fly around seeking refuge, you know it's coming.
And
it does. And it's beautiful. Everyone is afraid of getting wet, but you
love it. You walk under it and relish it, because you know it won't
last long. You take off your sandals and splash in the puddles. The
water under your feet is actually warm. You are about to go back to
studying when one of the neighbors across the street pulls up on their
motorcycle and stops to say "hi."
You say sàwàtdee jâo, which is "hello" in the local language.
She answers, Chabaa wàtdee jâo!
Pai nai?
Pai talàad. Chabaa pai mái?
Pai khâa.
You hop on the back of the
motorcycle. She is going to take you to the market. You feel the wind
blow in your face and through your hair, and it feels free. On the way,
you see dogs walking around the neighborhood. Whether they are stray or
owned, you do not know.
At the market, you see a náampàn stand. This is like a
kind of shake or smoothie with powder in it, and it's delicious. You
choose either ovaltine or strawberry. Only 15 baht. 50 cents.
Head home to eat dinner. Eat sticky rice, mangoes, pineapple,
and fake meat while your family turns on the tv. You see all kinds of
shows you didn't expect to see, such as "Psych" or "Police Women of
Dallas," all dubbed in Thai. Go back outside and sit on the porch,
soaking in the (somewhat) cool evening. The sun is about to set.
Although you cannot see it because of the clouds and the trees in the
way, you know it's setting because the birds start to all gather and go
crazy. You hop on your bike and go to a local field to get a better
view, although you still can't see it.
Look straight up
and it's a beautiful orange color. The clouds look absolutely majestic,
almost frightening. Your breath is taken away. You are standing in front
of a canal. To the right, you see chickens walking in the street and
cows in the field. To the left, a bridge. Occasionally someone rides by
on a motorcycle. Across the canal you see a house. It has a tin patio.
People's clothes are hanging up to dry. A woman is standing in the field
far off, looking at the sunset. Still, you hear the birds going crazy.
Night is approaching. It's just you and nature. Once it gets dark, if you are lucky, sometimes you hear monks chanting.
You see the silhouettes of the banana and coconut trees against
the darkening sky. You hear the crickets singing. It's time to go home,
but you need to stay just a little bit longer. You wish you could
take a picture, but you just can't. No picture ever looks good. You
want to just stay in this moment, just you, and God, and nature,
forever.
And that's when you realize that Thailand has your heart.
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