Sa wat dee kaa, Greetings from Thailand. Before I begin I would like to alert you that this is a really long e-mail. If you are my mom you probably don’t care, if you’re one of my teachers this probably does not surprise you, but if you are one of my friends abroad and are battling a slow and uncertain internet connection, maybe save this one. Also, if anyone wants something specific from Thailand the best time to tell me is now because we’re still in the city. I’ve been searching for an appropriate format to describe my first two weeks here and finally settled on a hodgepodge style of telling you about Thai culture as I have experienced it; in glimmers. If I had to pick one word to describe the experience thus far it would be one that Clay introduced me to when I bumped into him in downtown Chiang Mai. The word is bababobo, it means “crazy”.
The beginning….My host sister, Pi Nung, said “welcome home” as I glanced warily at the small pack of stray dogs on the driveway sifting through trash (this was right after the “dying from rabies sucks” talk). I was wearing the same clothes as I had two days earlier when I left the Detroit airport to travel to Denver, LA, Bangkok, and finally Chiang Mai. In this state of near delirium I had the added pressure of making the all-important good first impression on the family who would be hosting me for the next five weeks. At dinner there was not enough room for all nine of us to fit around the table. Despite Mae’s assurance that they didn’t make the food too spicy because of the children, my lips burned with the new fishy sensations I was sure would make me ill. One of the soups was garnished with a large reptilian arm, (iguana maybe?) complete with finger nails. I ate around it. Bababobo.
The first day of thai language class was overwhelming. The other students had already been in Thailand for four days and had a Thai language class. I built a mental list of the reasons to be unhappy. I was unsettled, there was the complete shock of this new culture where I am not allowed to cross a road by myself (granted it is a rather perilous undertaking), the relentless schedule that presses even a time-filler like myself, the inconvenience of having to learn everything from how to operate a toilet to a bike kick stand over again. In the afternoon Ajaan Mark heightened the mood with a talk about all the ways we can be jailed or killed in Thailand. Bababobo.
As I walked away from school toward the superhighway on the first day, I realized that I did not have the foggiest concept of where I lived. I hopped into the back of a roht dang and found myself sharing the cramped space with five monks. In Thailand women are forbidden to touch monks, and my initial plan of maintaining a two-foot radius bubble from them was shot down as I clenched tightly to the window to avoid sliding into the orange-robed lap inches from my knees. The oldest monk said “whats up?” I laughed, my pessimistic list shattered. I couldn’t help it, I love the mania. We drove all through Chaing Mai, conversing in broken Thinglish that mostly consisted of me pointing at things and exclaiming “a’rai!?” “what is it?” Bababobo.
My “typical” day at ISDSI begins when I wake up at 5:30 to the charming sound of “cocks” screeching outside my window. I thought my American family was strange for keeping a chicken, but here all sorts of chickens, roosters, dogs, cats, cows, yaks (I think?) and even an elephant wander the streets freely. Our neighbors have a bull and my host kids think it is great fun to tiptoe into the yard and see how close they can get before the bull spazzes out and the kids flee to the protection of our gate. Compared to the bull, the gate does not look so sturdy (bababobo, anyone?). And no, Dad, I am not going to try to ride the bull. I submit to the mandatory cold shower and dress in my school uniform. I sip some of the best hot coca I have ever had (I think this is because they make the proportions waaaaay off, in favor of chocolate) and eat something that resembles the sizzling rice soup that my family use to get at the Golden Bowl Chinese restaurant. Beware Jayme: there is no cereal for breakfast in Thailand. Around 6:15 (I say “around” because we operate on “Thai time” which is even more erratic than the “jewish time” that I grew up with) I hop into the passenger seat of my host brother Pi Jarron’s school bus, which is really like a large Durango with seats in the part where the truck should be. We drive for an hour, through slums, rice fields, and gated communities of thai mini palaces, picking up kids. I soak in the sights while overloading my brain with Pi Jarron’s dose of new words to learn. I make the headache sign when I’m about twelve words past any reasonable capacity and I learn later that he thinks this means I am sick. Not a complete miscommunication. He drops me at the Ar cade bus station and I board the white bus with a few of my classmates. We know we’re nearing ISDSI when we see a large sign that reads “T.I.T.S”. Home sweet home. Bababobo.
After class, we melt into the hammocks, chairs, and rock climbing wall that is the ISDSI outdoor lounge. Sometimes we go out to lunch in the city, and sometimes they order in food that I occasionally recognize. On Friday we had pad thai, something that resembled chicken noodle soup, and an assortment of fried bugs. I ate grubs, crickets, and part of a water beetle. They tasted a little too much like fritos. Just for the purpose of bragging, I’ve also eaten pig brain, chicken feet, and many things I do not wish to know the name of. Bababobo.
After lunch we have a Thai Culture and Society class taught by an anthropologist who is very involved in Thai and Burmese politics. She is extra-valuable because she analyzes Thailand’s changing political climate day by day with us. Right now Bangkok (very far from us) is under a state of emergency as protesters occupy government buildings in protest of the controversial Thai Prime Minister, Samak. Samack has just been forced to step down because of legal proceedings against him, but is running again for prime minister. Besides timely lectures, Dr. Fink and the other teachers work hard to make each day of school different. ISDSI is like going to school on the magic school bus. We never go more than two days without a field trip. So far we’ve gone to the mall, hospital, a temple, Royal Development Study Center and market. If there is a lack of spontaneity, we get treated to a lecture on all the ways to die in Thailand (my favorite is dengue fever, which is no longer so funny because one of the boys in our program just got it). On the last day of our first week “school” was a full day of rock climbing Crazy Horse cliffs, caving, and rappelling and zip lining in a huge cave. This past weekend we went on a “retreat” which should have been called “leadership bootcamp” (the sentence: “go to the campfire now” was used) at the beautiful Monk Fa Waterfall. We felt like ten-year olds for most of it, but it fit in well with the rest of the mania and disjunction between being treated like kids and given adult responsibilities that characterize the Thai system of pi/nong.
After school I take a hodegepodge of busses home to my new family. My Thai family is very generous. My host sister cracked up when I emerged from my room wearing a polo shirt (thanks, Lisa) and Jake’s athletic shorts. This outfit was not rip roi. I spend the rest of the day trying to figure out how to keep my eight year old host sister Fai (nickname:“little skinny”)’s Capri fisherman pants on. I spent a lot of time this summer prepping for study abroad by practicing my ability to self-soothe and be ultra-independent. Perhaps I should have spent it reading up on Thai culture because these people do not believe in alone time. If someone is seen in public (aka anywhere) alone, people assume they don’t have friends or smell particularly bad. Because of this, I am not allowed to do ANYTHING by myself. I think my three younger host siblings are being paid by commission to keep constantly at my side. They even follow me on their bikes as I jog in circles around the driveway! Thais do not exist alone, so now neither do I. My sister, First, even naps with me (which is adorable, as much as I may begrudge the loss of my independence). Bababobo.
Living with a Thai family is obviously a great way to crack into Thai culture. Thailand is hailed as the “land of smiles”. Such advertising is misleading by western standards. In Thai culture a smile can mean anything from “oh happy day!” to “im going to kill you”. Im still trying to adjust to a culture which is founded in a strict vertical hierarchy that makes the GOP’s “good old boy” network look like a first-grade recess gang. As far as I can tell, Thais do not follow any sort of discernible traffic laws. My only comfort during the 2-3 hours I spend on the road each day is that pi jarron’s bus and the song tail are generally larger vehicles who could almost certainly beat the smaller fish (especially bold motorcycles) in a crash scenario. Bababobo
One of my favorite things about Thailand so far are the markets or “dalaad”. My first trip to the market began when I reluctantly got on the back of a motorcycle with my family’s Punk rock Thai niece. Thai markets reaffirm my decision to return to my vegetarian ways the second I set foot on the sweet soil of America. The dalad are literally crawling with all sorts of guts, live fish, pig heads, bugs, odors, and colors. For my personal safety, I try to stick to my true love, the delectable tropical fruit. Buying set fruit is generally amusing. The first time I tried to buy 2 dragonfruits but ended up with more than I can carry because apparently pointing and saying the thai word for two gets you two kilo. Not a completely awful mistake, they only cost $1.50. Now I eat one dragonfruit every day, which makes my pee a slightly alarming shade of light pink. I also bought a fruit called durian that is about the size of a basketball and covered with frightening spikes. Rumor has it that Thai warriors use to throw durian at their enemies. Eating in Thailand is like dipping into a box of chocolates with the reckless abandon of a starving three-year old and the memory of a slug. It requires extra audacity because some of the chocolates are filled with fish guts. Bababobo.
Wa-nee fon tod. Literally: today rain fell. Understatement of the century. Thai rain during the peak month of the monsoon (now, of course) is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I’m contemplating building an ark, just in case. The great thing about the rain is that it exaggerates the already lax concept of thai time. When it rains, everyone who normally braves the lawless roads by motorcycle takes some sort of car and the resulting traffic is unbelievable. In stead of stress, everyone simply adds about 20 minutes to their schedule on rainy days. Not so bababobo.
So overall this program is amazing and im having a great time in Thailand. I apologize for the long and delayed e-mail. I hope you are all well and having sanuk (fun).
Peace and love from the land of crazed smiles,
Jenna
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