NO BIG DEAL

Normalcy. Wow. I discovered recently that I’m reaching that state after living in Bangkok for six months. Six months..no way.

The street vendors with an array of food, drinks and fruits used to captivate me. I was like a child in a candy store for the first time. Wanting to try everything, and not knowing where to start, overflowing with curiosity.

Now when I walk past the vendors, the smells of basil, peanut oil, and spices that make my eyes water are like the smell of pajamas I have slept in a few days---familiar and cozy, not startling. Now when I see the different carts I wonder why there isn’t more. Why is it I can only find the coconut ice cream man when I don’t want it, and he is elusive when I do want it?

After experiencing, tasting and searching, I now have favorites… like basil and pork over rice. I adore how it’s spicy flavor stays long after the last bite has passed through my flaming lips. Or green mango dipped in sugar and spice. The fresh taste mixed with the dip gives it zing. Or chayen, iced Chinese tea with sweetened condensed milk, which its dark orange liquid has left its mark many a time on my shirts.

An elephant ambling down the street as I'm eating dinner at an open-air restaurant makes me smile, but not want to frantically whip out my camera to get a picture of the mysterious beast. The gentle but strong creature is now like a cute dog walking with its owner on the street. I think how nice, maybe I can pet it. Then I do and move on.

When I see people bowing randomly on the street because they have passed a Buddhist god of some sort I acknowledge it as much as someone would when they see passer-by wave at a friend. The remnants of Starbucks drinks, sodas, and street food mixed with smoking incense in front of the idols are just another part of the scenery.

Zipping my Skytrain pass over the sensor is so part of my routine that I get it out even when I go on the subway…even though I can’t use it there. Then I casually sit in the bright yellow seats and stare at the tourists flipping maps around, pointing at the signs on the trains, wondering where to get off. But I have now timed my exit perfectly. I know that exactly two seconds after the train stops I can stand and smoothly walk out precisely when the doors open.

Seeing beautiful Thai women with old, geeky farang men everywhere is a sight that used to shock me, but now I just feel anger about the injustice. Now it is hard for me not to assume that every older white man I see is just in this land of freedom to find the companionship and love in a poor Thai women that he couldn’t find back home.

It is no big deal to get a 1,000 baht bill and then immediately search for a 7/11 to buy something like water for 8 baht so I can get change. I know that all the street vendors taxis, and motorcycles would moan and groan and show me they cant give me any change if I were to give them such a large bill.

I am used to sweating, sweating, sweating when I step outside even though it is January. Yet, I still always forget to bring a jacket when I go to cafés and am constantly shivering and then hit with the shock of hotness once I amble outside.

Discovering a bathroom with not only toilet paper, but soap AND paper towels is now like winning the lottery and is new gossip I tell my friends. “No way, we need to go to that restaurant/café more often!”

I forget how KFC in America has biscuits and mac and cheese. Now I get spicy chicken Thai-style on rice, and maybe even the fried sushi roll. Ahh, but once I remember about the biscuits, my mouth does water a bit. =)

I have reached the state of being able to ride side-saddle on a motorcycle taxi while gripping the handle behind the seat and holding my burdensome laptop bag with my other hand, as the wind makes my skirt fly a bit. Squeezing between the cars, buses and taxis while performing my balancing act is not an intense scene from an action movie any longer. The taxi is now my chariot ride to work.


Yes, I did step out of my comfort zone to come here, but now this place is becoming my comfort zone. It is hard because I have never been in a country long enough for this to happen, so I wonder as I become comfortable, what else I will learn in these next months I am here.

Ahh, but one thing that still isn’t normal for me is the Thai language. I feel I have gone backwards instead of forwards at times and wonder if I will ever figure out the puzzle of this sing-song tonal language that no matter how I say a word it never is right. Maybe I should get a tutor. I’m looking into that. I can’t wait until it becomes normal for me to carry on a conversation in Thai and not think twice about it.

Wow, I can’t imagine. But then I couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable riding on a motorcycle wearing a skirt…so there is always hope! =)

Preparing Paradise

---i enjoyed getting to know some of the students more and becoming more adjusted to teaching SAT writing after a long 9 days of teaching an intense SAT boot camp..but my soul and body were yearning for a break by the last sunday when we entered into our 4 day holiday...the longest break i have had yet. i have been dreaming to go to ko phi phi ever since i got here. to see the idyllic beach where "the beach" was filmed, snorkel in emerald waters while playing with florescent fish, and of course lay out on the white-washed soft sand by the cool lapping waters..and i got to do it all...and here is a lil excerpt of my time----


Empty as a baseball stadium after the big game ended. The fans are gone, but their remnants are left: ends of hot dogs on the ground, nacho cheese dripping off chairs, and toilet paper decorating the bath-rooms. The workers are the only ones speckled around the seats, cleaning up the mess and preparing for the next big game.

This was Ko Phi Phi, Thailand at 7 a.m. I had arisen early, long before my friends, and was eager to go for a run on the white slip-through-your-toes soft sand, and gaze at the tall, bush covered forest green limestone cliffs gaping over the emerald waters. Ahh, paradise.

I left our wee bungalow and walked across the sandy, brick pathway to the shoreline as the humidity already began to suck the sweat out of me and leave a mark on my turquoise sleeveless shirt.

Stepping on the beach, I realized it wasn’t quite as picturesque as the day before when we had arrived. The sand didn’t look as sparkling amidst the plastic Pepsi bottles, random broken flip-flops, and every few meters an occasional Chang (Thai beer) dark brown glass bottle. And I was the only farang (foreigner) as far as I could see.

Last night I had forgotten for a few hours that tall, stocky people with pale skin and strong accents aren’t the main populace of Thailand. The hordes of farangs from Europe and America in Ko Phi Phi who populate every seaside restaurant, and sunbathe topless on every beach, had brainwashed me into thinking that these creatures are the true natives of Thailand.

But as I dashed down the beach with the sea-breeze grasping my frizzy morning hair, I remembered, “Oh yeah, Thais are the natives of this island, not farangs.”

I was hit with this fact as I ran by the long tail boat taxis. The taxis seemed enchanted and as if they were bobbing in the air because the water was so translucent. The boats were anchored to the shore through long ropes stretched across the sand. Six or seven taxi men were regaling stories in Thai while sitting in a circle around the boats. They were probably discussing how silly farangs are when I dashed by, yet another one to add to their list.

One of them pointed at me, and started to shout something in Thai, which led to everyone else chuckling. I was trying to run even faster to escape their points and stares, pretending I was sprinting the last lap in a 100 meter, when I didn’t see one of the ropes tautly stretched across the sand. I stumbled over it, skidding my knee across the terrain, falling on my face.

Laughter erupted from the Thai men as my cheeks began to look like most every other white person’s face on the island after a day in the sun. I immediately got up without even brushing off my sand smeared legs and ran even faster, now stumbling and leaping over black rocks that stuck out of the ocean, the laugher spurring me on.

No one really wakes up before 9 a.m. in Ko Phi Phi unless they are Thai. And no one ever runs on the beach unless they are a Thai person running away from an Adaman sea monster. And considering those don’t really exist I guess no one runs here and I’m the biggest freak ever. These thoughts were tumbling through my mind as I reached the end of the rocks, around the bend and out of sight from the hecklers. This is when I decided to walk. I was tired of the stares.

But as I walked I discovered I wasn’t the only farang awake on the island and the others were the most amusing stars of the Ko Phi Phi show at 7 a.m.

I meandered past an Italian couple sitting at a table, which would have a perfect spot for a beautiful view of the water and stars at sunset, which is most likely when they had begun sitting there. A night of drinks by the waters edge had transformed their starry eyes into bloodshot red orbs, and their smooth, sweet Italian was now rolling together into indecipherable murmurs.

Later on, I found another couple sprawled on the beach, speaking in English with a thick British accent. The woman was begging the man to tell her “the story.” He said, “That isn’t something one says to a lady at the sunrise of Ko Phi Phi!” She prodded and poked him, much to his delight, pleading for it anyways.

But other than the few drunken farangs, every morning of my stay, I felt like a white, young girl and Thais were the only ones who inhabited Ko Phi Phi.

As I strolled through the quaint alleys in the beach town the only traffic was a few bicycles rattling down the path. Most of the locals I came across would give me a smile that “Thailand--The Land of Smiles” is famous for, and say, “Good Morning! How are you?”

I’m used to the Thais who inhabit Bangkok, who are like the people in most other big cities in the world, they are friendly only when they have to be and tough most other times.


But on this island because of their welcoming greetings, I felt like I was back in the southern America where everyone says, “How y’all doing?” to anyone passing by within a foot’s radius. I guess southern hospitality corresponds not only to America but southern Thailand as well.

Most of the friendly Thais were eating a breakfast of rice soup, chicken and rice, or noodles at rusted tables sitting on faded plastic chairs. They were getting the croissants and jam, and English beans and eggs ready for the rest of the island’s inhabitants. The shopkeepers were listening to Thai radio stations as they put out sarongs, sunscreen, and postcards on their stall fronts. Men from one shop were chatting with their shop neighbors, smiling as the sun pierced their eyes, making the sandy street glow.

The rest of their day is intense for the Thais in which they serve the every whim and wish of the tourist. But at least they have the mornings to themselves, to remind them who they are and to cling to it.

And it turns out I wasn’t the only conscious farang on Ko Phi Phi in the early morning. One day I did find a beach on the other side of the island where freaks like me were running. Of course I joined them because I can’t forget who I am either. And maybe one day those Thai taxi men will try running on the beach and see how refreshing it is. But at least they will know not to trip on the ropes. I’m glad I could give them some tips.