Last night some of my friends and I, all American ex-pats living in Thailand, were discussing over greasy Thai food, how we are losing our English.
Everyday we speak to Thais who yearn with all their hearts to know English, yet since they don't get much practice, most still linger at elementary levels. So in order to get our points across we simplify.
We now analyze in our heads the words we are about to say before we say them to make sure the vocabulary isn't too difficult. We never say idioms anymore. We talk in a slower, clearer tone of voice without thinking twice about it.
One girl told a story how she and an American friend were walking by a fish and tackle store. She peered in the large glass display window and said to her friend, "Look! Fishing sticks!"
"You mean, fishing "poles"?"
One of my friends from home told me that when she talked to me on the phone last, it sounded like I ended my sentences in a weird-anime-character-like-way. I thought, "Oh boy, my English is becoming Thinglish!" since Thais, when they attempt to speak English, stretch out the end of their sentences.
For example, if I ever told my motorcycle man to take me to "Asoke Tower", he would stare at me blankly. But if I said, "Asoke Toweeerrrrr" he would take me there without hesitation.
Even when I email I will write an idiom, delete it, but then remember that my friend is fluent in English! And then pack the email with all the idioms my fingers have been holding inside for the past months.
So this is just a warning for when I come home. If I have trouble using advanced vocabulary, pronouncing words correctly, and understanding slang, it's only the Thailand effect. I will be ok soon, please be patient.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Kitung Na
Thailand. Maybe my feelings for it are like those a parent might have for her rebellious teen. It can get on my nerves, annoy me, make me yell and scream at times, but then deep down, I still love it dearly.
I hope I won't ever forget my days of
daily eating Thai food-for only $1-that is so spicy and flavorful it makes my taste-buds do the the salsa with every bite.
swimming outside my husband's old gym on hot December nights in dark water magically glowing from the gym lights and gazing at the stars peeking out under the palm trees dancing in the breeze.
never driving but always riding: the skytrain, subway, rickety buses, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, taxis, bikes, and of course walking to get around the city.
eating dinner with my hubby Thai-style on the floor in our tiny studio while watching Prison Break episodes we downloaded on his laptop.
sipping cheap iced drinks from sweaty, smiling street vendors-- cappuccinos, chayen, coco, lemon tea...ahhh...
escaping Bangkok for the weekend and remembering that emerald oceans, white sands, cotton-candy blue waterfalls, friendly monkeys, ancient ruins, and refreshing mountain air really do exist in Thailand.
meeting and befriending treasures from all over the world--Swedes, Californians, Canadians, Vietnamese, Koreans, Japanese, Singaporeans, Chinese, British, Trinidadians, Irish, Russians, Zimbabweans, and Malaysians.
falling in love with my husband
my Thai sisters helping me pick out my perfect wedding dress.
walking to work everyday while repeating the speech in Thai I memorized to say at the reception to my hubby
looking out at the shining Grand Palace on the other side of the river during our wedding ceremony and marveling at how unpredictable life is.
teaching hard-working Asian kiddos who can all pronounce my new last name, Phengchard, correctly.
I think this list could become endless, so I will stop now and write more as the days pass and I become more and more nostalgic. I hope when those Thailand missing pains come in America, I can look at this and smile.
God gave us memories that we might have roses in December. ~J.M. Barrie, Courage, 1922
I hope I won't ever forget my days of
daily eating Thai food-for only $1-that is so spicy and flavorful it makes my taste-buds do the the salsa with every bite.
swimming outside my husband's old gym on hot December nights in dark water magically glowing from the gym lights and gazing at the stars peeking out under the palm trees dancing in the breeze.
never driving but always riding: the skytrain, subway, rickety buses, tuk-tuks, motorcycles, taxis, bikes, and of course walking to get around the city.
eating dinner with my hubby Thai-style on the floor in our tiny studio while watching Prison Break episodes we downloaded on his laptop.
sipping cheap iced drinks from sweaty, smiling street vendors-- cappuccinos, chayen, coco, lemon tea...ahhh...
escaping Bangkok for the weekend and remembering that emerald oceans, white sands, cotton-candy blue waterfalls, friendly monkeys, ancient ruins, and refreshing mountain air really do exist in Thailand.
meeting and befriending treasures from all over the world--Swedes, Californians, Canadians, Vietnamese, Koreans, Japanese, Singaporeans, Chinese, British, Trinidadians, Irish, Russians, Zimbabweans, and Malaysians.
falling in love with my husband
my Thai sisters helping me pick out my perfect wedding dress.
walking to work everyday while repeating the speech in Thai I memorized to say at the reception to my hubby
looking out at the shining Grand Palace on the other side of the river during our wedding ceremony and marveling at how unpredictable life is.
teaching hard-working Asian kiddos who can all pronounce my new last name, Phengchard, correctly.
I think this list could become endless, so I will stop now and write more as the days pass and I become more and more nostalgic. I hope when those Thailand missing pains come in America, I can look at this and smile.
God gave us memories that we might have roses in December. ~J.M. Barrie, Courage, 1922
Friday, May 15, 2009
Rainy Day Dream
Thunder is rumbling, and rain is plit-plattering outside. Just seeing the darkening clouds, and the sky dumping itself out, makes me instinctively want to curl up into a ball next to a warm fireplace on a soft, leather couch under a fuzzy blanket and sip steamy hot chocolate with gooey marshmallows while reading a page-turner.
Hmm..but there are no fireplaces in Thailand. The closest I have come to comfort is splish-splashing through the rain puddles to buy the cheapest coffee drink from Gloria Jeans, a white chocolate mocha, and sip it while I type in my fluorescent bright, sort of muggy office room while dreaming of my hot chocolate fireplace fantasy described above.
2 and a half months till America...
Hmm..but there are no fireplaces in Thailand. The closest I have come to comfort is splish-splashing through the rain puddles to buy the cheapest coffee drink from Gloria Jeans, a white chocolate mocha, and sip it while I type in my fluorescent bright, sort of muggy office room while dreaming of my hot chocolate fireplace fantasy described above.
2 and a half months till America...
Monday, May 11, 2009
"Our" East meets "Me" West
"They are busy at work, so it's ok if we borrow their car. They don't need it now, so they won't mind." Dom told me while we were in visiting his hometown car-less.
"Are you SURE?"
"Yeah, no big deal!" Dom said, while his eyes said, "Why in the world would this be a big deal?"
So we walked down a few streets over from his grandma's small house to his old high school friend's internet cafe to pick up the car. The store was full of Thai kiddos engrossed in screens covered with millions of blinking chat conversations, fighting or dancing computer games, or hi-five pages full of comments written in Thai.
While the wife of Dom's friend gave someone a password for a computer, balanced her 3-year-old son on her hip as he ate a piece of guava dipped in spicy sugar, she searched the desk piled up with business-type papers looking for the car keys. Eventually she found them, passed them to us with a smile, and then left us to our own devices as she unlocked the cashbox to give someone change for a 1000 baht. "What a woman! " I thought.
For the day we drove around to the ancient ruins, had special hot, sweet and spicy chicken soup for lunch, got groceries at the Big C, brought them back to Grandma's and then took the car back later that night. Dom gave the keys back to his friend, they chatted for a few minutes and we left.
I had this feeling of awe and wonder for most of the day, pondering at this huge difference between our cultures. I was thinking how weird it would be for me to randomly ask my friend I hadn't seen in ages to borrow their car and use it for the whole day, without them thinking twice about it-- as if instead of asking to use their car I was asking to use their bathroom. If I was able to borrow their car, I would feel paranoid and guilty all day, like I had stolen their precious treasure.
When I told Dom this, he thought that was odd that people don't freely share their possessions in America. He had noticed with his American roommate, if Dom asked to borrow his motorbike, he would make a huff-and-puffy big deal about it, let him borrow it, but eventually asked him not to because it was "his" motorbike.
Even though it's not stated, many Thais have an "our" mentality instead of "me". I love this mindset especially when it comes to the way they eat because I love to try new foods. In America, I will even ask people if they want to try my food, hoping they will say yes, so they will ask if I want taste theirs.
But many times in America, most people don't want to try my food because they already have their own and hardly ever ask if I want to taste their dish.
Thailand is a different story. When Thais have big meals together, they order what seems like a Thanksgiving feast number of dishes and sprawl them out at the center of the table. Forks and spoons go flying to this or that dish. We dont even pass dishes in Thailand, we just stretch arms. Many times when Im just eating with Dominic at a restaurant we will order two dishes and share both together. I can't wait to bring this tradition to America: one fountain drink between the two of us and free refills, bring it on!
It may not be very apparent to many Americans that we have this me-focus, but the rest of the world definitely defines us by it. One of my cute-as-can-be Thai co-workers has recently started dating an American guy. She anxiously questions me frequently about the differences between how people date in America compared to Thailand. One thing which is holding her back is she says, "American guys are so selfish. I don't know if I can handle that."
Of course I told her not to generalize, and tried to convince her to test this guy out before she compared him to the stereotype, but it hurt my feelings to think that our culture is known all over the world as selfish.
Thai culture isn't perfect either. The easy-going attitude about everything has led to a lot of political and economic turmoil. As I always say, every culture has good and bad in it, no culture is perfect. But Im glad that I live here, and have learned about this good part of Thai culture. I hope that I can apply it when we move to America. Yet, if I mess up, at least Dom will be there to remind me through his way of living life that truly--what's mine is yours.
"Are you SURE?"
"Yeah, no big deal!" Dom said, while his eyes said, "Why in the world would this be a big deal?"
So we walked down a few streets over from his grandma's small house to his old high school friend's internet cafe to pick up the car. The store was full of Thai kiddos engrossed in screens covered with millions of blinking chat conversations, fighting or dancing computer games, or hi-five pages full of comments written in Thai.
While the wife of Dom's friend gave someone a password for a computer, balanced her 3-year-old son on her hip as he ate a piece of guava dipped in spicy sugar, she searched the desk piled up with business-type papers looking for the car keys. Eventually she found them, passed them to us with a smile, and then left us to our own devices as she unlocked the cashbox to give someone change for a 1000 baht. "What a woman! " I thought.
For the day we drove around to the ancient ruins, had special hot, sweet and spicy chicken soup for lunch, got groceries at the Big C, brought them back to Grandma's and then took the car back later that night. Dom gave the keys back to his friend, they chatted for a few minutes and we left.
I had this feeling of awe and wonder for most of the day, pondering at this huge difference between our cultures. I was thinking how weird it would be for me to randomly ask my friend I hadn't seen in ages to borrow their car and use it for the whole day, without them thinking twice about it-- as if instead of asking to use their car I was asking to use their bathroom. If I was able to borrow their car, I would feel paranoid and guilty all day, like I had stolen their precious treasure.
When I told Dom this, he thought that was odd that people don't freely share their possessions in America. He had noticed with his American roommate, if Dom asked to borrow his motorbike, he would make a huff-and-puffy big deal about it, let him borrow it, but eventually asked him not to because it was "his" motorbike.
Even though it's not stated, many Thais have an "our" mentality instead of "me". I love this mindset especially when it comes to the way they eat because I love to try new foods. In America, I will even ask people if they want to try my food, hoping they will say yes, so they will ask if I want taste theirs.
But many times in America, most people don't want to try my food because they already have their own and hardly ever ask if I want to taste their dish.
Thailand is a different story. When Thais have big meals together, they order what seems like a Thanksgiving feast number of dishes and sprawl them out at the center of the table. Forks and spoons go flying to this or that dish. We dont even pass dishes in Thailand, we just stretch arms. Many times when Im just eating with Dominic at a restaurant we will order two dishes and share both together. I can't wait to bring this tradition to America: one fountain drink between the two of us and free refills, bring it on!
It may not be very apparent to many Americans that we have this me-focus, but the rest of the world definitely defines us by it. One of my cute-as-can-be Thai co-workers has recently started dating an American guy. She anxiously questions me frequently about the differences between how people date in America compared to Thailand. One thing which is holding her back is she says, "American guys are so selfish. I don't know if I can handle that."
Of course I told her not to generalize, and tried to convince her to test this guy out before she compared him to the stereotype, but it hurt my feelings to think that our culture is known all over the world as selfish.
Thai culture isn't perfect either. The easy-going attitude about everything has led to a lot of political and economic turmoil. As I always say, every culture has good and bad in it, no culture is perfect. But Im glad that I live here, and have learned about this good part of Thai culture. I hope that I can apply it when we move to America. Yet, if I mess up, at least Dom will be there to remind me through his way of living life that truly--what's mine is yours.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Meditations on Mother Theresa
A petite, stooped over wrinkly like a pit bull, but as cute as a puppy, old lady wearing tattered nun clothing.
Im sure that is all i would have thought about her if I had passed by her on the street or seen her on a bus, but wow, Mother Theresa was so much more than a wee, pit bull puppy looking woman.
This week I have been re-reading the book, One Heart Full of Love, which is a series of Mother Theresa's speeches she gave all around the world at different functions and awards ceremonies.
It is so delightful because I can hear her sweet, gentle voice coming through as I read them and it reminds me of my loving grandmother's voice. Her speeches repeat the same stories and themes over and over, and aren't laced with flowery language and are free from theological arguments. Instead they portray, nothing more and nothing less, than a simple, authentic faith.
One of my favorite quotes was when she was going to be awarded an honorary degree as a Doctor of Divinity from Cambridge and she felt unqualified, "You know full well that I have not studied theology. I just simply try always to live it out."
Reading this book has inspired me, but not in ways that I at first thought I would be. When I think of all the work Mother Theresa and her Missionaries of Charity have done all over the world--starting orphanages and houses for the dying, caring for lepers, finding parents for orphans, feeding the hungry, loving the sick, being a friend to the friendless--the list goes on--I thought I would want to forsake my ordinary life and move to the slums and take a vow of poverty.
But the one thing that she spoke on more than helping those who are have physical poverty was helping those who have poverty of the soul, the hardest poverty to cure, which is loneliness. This poverty is what she said we need to focus on curing, and it starts with loving those in our family who are typically neglected by society.
Mother Theresa said how she went to a top of the line nursing home which had beautiful rooms, caring nursing staff, and wonderful healthcare, but as she walked the hallways and peered in the rooms she saw that every person who lived there kept looking out their doors, with sad, yet eager expressions. She was told that everyone is always waiting, for a daughter, son, grandchild to visit, but hardly anyone ever does.
My sweet grandmother's health is slowly deteriorating, which breaks my heart, but I feel at peace because I know she doesn't have poverty of the soul during this hard time. My mom and dad have decided to move her into their home so they can be her care-takers and support her.
My mom will have dinner with her and share about the crazy kids in her kindergarten class that she teaches, while my grandmother faithfully asks about every child by name.
My dad is my go-between on skype when she wants to chat with me while Im at work. He will type out her thoughts to me word for word so I feel like she is speaking to me.
My parents, and Mother Theresa, have set me an example that I hope I can follow after. I can't wait to go home and be near my grandma, to be able to sit and listen to her stories and share mine with her, to make her breakfast and coffee, and to just smile at her and be smiled at.
So even though I do feel at times that I just want to move to a remote orphanage and love on kids all day, I know that first I must love on my husband, my parents, my grandma, my friends and co-workers. Because maybe it is my job to help cure poverty that runs deeper and and wider than any food or pills or money can relieve.
Im sure that is all i would have thought about her if I had passed by her on the street or seen her on a bus, but wow, Mother Theresa was so much more than a wee, pit bull puppy looking woman.
This week I have been re-reading the book, One Heart Full of Love, which is a series of Mother Theresa's speeches she gave all around the world at different functions and awards ceremonies.
It is so delightful because I can hear her sweet, gentle voice coming through as I read them and it reminds me of my loving grandmother's voice. Her speeches repeat the same stories and themes over and over, and aren't laced with flowery language and are free from theological arguments. Instead they portray, nothing more and nothing less, than a simple, authentic faith.
One of my favorite quotes was when she was going to be awarded an honorary degree as a Doctor of Divinity from Cambridge and she felt unqualified, "You know full well that I have not studied theology. I just simply try always to live it out."
Reading this book has inspired me, but not in ways that I at first thought I would be. When I think of all the work Mother Theresa and her Missionaries of Charity have done all over the world--starting orphanages and houses for the dying, caring for lepers, finding parents for orphans, feeding the hungry, loving the sick, being a friend to the friendless--the list goes on--I thought I would want to forsake my ordinary life and move to the slums and take a vow of poverty.
But the one thing that she spoke on more than helping those who are have physical poverty was helping those who have poverty of the soul, the hardest poverty to cure, which is loneliness. This poverty is what she said we need to focus on curing, and it starts with loving those in our family who are typically neglected by society.
Mother Theresa said how she went to a top of the line nursing home which had beautiful rooms, caring nursing staff, and wonderful healthcare, but as she walked the hallways and peered in the rooms she saw that every person who lived there kept looking out their doors, with sad, yet eager expressions. She was told that everyone is always waiting, for a daughter, son, grandchild to visit, but hardly anyone ever does.
My sweet grandmother's health is slowly deteriorating, which breaks my heart, but I feel at peace because I know she doesn't have poverty of the soul during this hard time. My mom and dad have decided to move her into their home so they can be her care-takers and support her.
My mom will have dinner with her and share about the crazy kids in her kindergarten class that she teaches, while my grandmother faithfully asks about every child by name.
My dad is my go-between on skype when she wants to chat with me while Im at work. He will type out her thoughts to me word for word so I feel like she is speaking to me.
My parents, and Mother Theresa, have set me an example that I hope I can follow after. I can't wait to go home and be near my grandma, to be able to sit and listen to her stories and share mine with her, to make her breakfast and coffee, and to just smile at her and be smiled at.
So even though I do feel at times that I just want to move to a remote orphanage and love on kids all day, I know that first I must love on my husband, my parents, my grandma, my friends and co-workers. Because maybe it is my job to help cure poverty that runs deeper and and wider than any food or pills or money can relieve.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Fortune Tellers
He was in his late 30s, had long, black hair that was pulled back in a pony tail. He wore a plain white T-shirt, and jeans. Except for his longer hair, his appearance wouldn't have been very memorable. But I recalled that the last time I was at this same mid-range Thai restaurant I had seen him too, and everyone who came into the restaurant greeted him like they were old friends. I thought perhaps he was the friendly owner of the place and left it at that.
But this time Dominic's mom pointed him out and said that he was a fortune teller; her clue was his special fortune cards with intricate pictures of his customer's fate he laid out on the table. Im always caught off guard at how common fortune telling is in Thailand, or in Asia for that matter.
A chubby, gypsy woman wearing excessive gaudy jewelry, a turban, and a rainbow colored mumu is usually what comes to my mind when I think of a fortune teller. She has a mystical smile and an eager glint in her eye, mesmerized by her crystal ball she rubs over and over in a candle-lit room. But the perfectly normal Thai man I saw at the nicer Thai restaurant destroyed all my fortune teller preconceived notions.
I also used to imagine people who went to fortune tellers as artsy people intrigued by magical things or normal people who go but never let it out. But here, the women customers who sat at his table wore fashionable funky dresses, and the men polo shirts and black dress pants. Typical mid-upper class Thai people who weren't ashamed to have everyone at this restaurant see their yearning to peer into their unknowns.
Some of my friends, and some of the high schoolers I teach, have mentioned to me that they have gone to see fortune tellers. They don't make a big deal of it. The way they describe it I suppose it's like us reading our horoscopes. Some people believe it is true, others believe some of it and discard the rest.
I wonder why we as humans desire to know the future so much? Why can't we just be surprised at whatever happens next?
I know right now I would love to know when we will finally get the letter telling us when Dominic's interview date for his green card is, or what job Dom or I will do in America starting in August, or what we will do in two years.
I like to make predictions and try to figure out what will happen through thinking so much my brain hurts because it makes me feel like Im more in control of my life. Yet, whenever I think I know what is going to happen next, Im always surprised by how the road Im riding on will dangle off in a direction I never fathomed existed.
Im tired of trying to be my own lousy fortune teller. How I want to be a horse with blinders on. I want to take life step by step, give up my control, and let my Rider lead the way.
But this time Dominic's mom pointed him out and said that he was a fortune teller; her clue was his special fortune cards with intricate pictures of his customer's fate he laid out on the table. Im always caught off guard at how common fortune telling is in Thailand, or in Asia for that matter.
A chubby, gypsy woman wearing excessive gaudy jewelry, a turban, and a rainbow colored mumu is usually what comes to my mind when I think of a fortune teller. She has a mystical smile and an eager glint in her eye, mesmerized by her crystal ball she rubs over and over in a candle-lit room. But the perfectly normal Thai man I saw at the nicer Thai restaurant destroyed all my fortune teller preconceived notions.
I also used to imagine people who went to fortune tellers as artsy people intrigued by magical things or normal people who go but never let it out. But here, the women customers who sat at his table wore fashionable funky dresses, and the men polo shirts and black dress pants. Typical mid-upper class Thai people who weren't ashamed to have everyone at this restaurant see their yearning to peer into their unknowns.
Some of my friends, and some of the high schoolers I teach, have mentioned to me that they have gone to see fortune tellers. They don't make a big deal of it. The way they describe it I suppose it's like us reading our horoscopes. Some people believe it is true, others believe some of it and discard the rest.
I wonder why we as humans desire to know the future so much? Why can't we just be surprised at whatever happens next?
I know right now I would love to know when we will finally get the letter telling us when Dominic's interview date for his green card is, or what job Dom or I will do in America starting in August, or what we will do in two years.
I like to make predictions and try to figure out what will happen through thinking so much my brain hurts because it makes me feel like Im more in control of my life. Yet, whenever I think I know what is going to happen next, Im always surprised by how the road Im riding on will dangle off in a direction I never fathomed existed.
Im tired of trying to be my own lousy fortune teller. How I want to be a horse with blinders on. I want to take life step by step, give up my control, and let my Rider lead the way.
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