Short Even in Thailand . . . Truly the Land of Smiles

I am no longer living in the comfort of the Ronram (Hotel); I miss the hot shower everyday (or running water at all for that matter), air conditioning, cushy bed, and internet access at any whim. However, my homestay experience has been truly superior in every way. I was placed with a lovely family and am truly living life as a Thai. Most people in my Tambon (village) have never seen a foreigner, especially a blond haired, blue eyed one – so I am quite the trophy and they all do their share of toting me around. My Thai family consists of a grandmother and grandfather, a mother, husband, daughter/sister, and various aunts, uncles, cousins, and animals. We live in what I would call a small compound with five houses in my yard. The house I actually live in is the center of all activity and the family gathering place – needless to say, I am never lonely. My Thai sister is 14, her name is Phatsara and she is adorable; she makes me jewelry and buys us matching key chains and things on a daily basis – plus she knows just enough English to save me when the communication barrier gets to be too large a hurdle to concur. There are not many moments when I allow myself to consider abandoning my mission here, but on the rare occasion I give in to my homesickness and lack of Thai vocabulary she is the kind spirit that lifts me up and reminds me why I traveled across the world; she is the first heart to touch mine and it has made every beat here vital.

Aside from Phat I spend my time with Pi Ying, my Thai mom; she makes pastries that are heavenly and sells them at the market – she is also a fabulously talented cook and teaches me her tricks each evening when I return home from training. I will be well equipped to create my own meals when I am forced to part from her inviting kitchen. My vocabulary at this point consists of all words relating to food . . . and I like it that way.
I was also very fortunate to have been placed with a very strong woman. Thailand is a little bit like living in the 50’s – women cook, clean, raise children, and make sure their men are well taken care of . . . In my house Pi Ying makes the money and the decisions and sets that example for Phat – I am thankful for her strength and pride everyday; she makes me feel empowered in an oppressive system.
Pi Ying and her husband Lu Yang are very patient people; they are kind and generous, and a perfect match for this little melting Coloradoan. With that being said, they are also VERY protective of their new child and worry about me constantly. One of the Ajaans (teachers) from the Peace Corps had a meeting with them to make sure they understood that they didn’t have to take me to school everyday and their reply was, “she is just too small to be alone – we will take her.” (Taking me to school consists of following behind my bicycle, while they ride a motorcycle) I thought I was coming to a country of little people, that I would fit right in, but even here I am a shorty. Phat is only 14 and is a good foot taller than me. I would complain, but there are homeless, hungry, and angry dogs all over this country and they fear motorized vehicles and love the smell of my American blood – so their company offers a feeling safety that I deeply appreciate.
Each Sunday morning Meow (my cousin) and Pi Ying begin making the Kanom, which they will sell at market. We have two kitchens, one is inside and the other is outside under the stilted portion of the house. The house I live in is well equipped with luxuries as far as life here is concerned and my family is cleaner than clean. We sweep, mop, do dishes, and shower a minimum of three times a day. It is beautiful. The home is in two parts, a stilted portion, which is in front, and a ground level which is the living space, kitchen, and bathroom. Thai houses don’t have individual rooms like American homes do and they are almost completely without furniture. We eat, gather, sleep, study, and watch T.V. in a big open room, on the floor. I bathe from a huge water trough with a bucket and use a squat toilet to take care of business. I sleep on a mattress on the floor with a mosquito net around me and my family on either side.

There is a sense of community here that is both tender, warm, and inviting – while overwhelming, overbearing, and without privacy. I find myself being pulled by both sides – I enjoy the company and it absolutely helps with the language acquisition, but there are times when I simply need to be alone.
Aside from my homestay things have been extremely busy and overwhelming. I spend four hours a day in language lessons with a group of four. We attend language classes at our village school, Nikom Lam Nari, where I get to teach three classes a week to a group of fifth graders. They are beyond adorable and love to have a native speaker in the classroom. It is wild and frustrating to watch someone teach a language they are completely unable to speak – which is the case in terms of English instruction in most of the country. It is hopeful in terms of feeling like I have a needed skill to offer, but will be a struggle creating techniques in which my Thai Counteparts will be able to sustain the practices after I come home to all of you. Teachers here are greatly respected, however, and like always in this land of smiling faces I am treated like royalty.
Every morning I meet two of the other members of my language and teaching group and we bike to the school. We attend language instruction until noon and then have lunch; after lunch we are able to teach a class for two hours two days a week. On days that we aren’t teaching we bike back to the “HUB” which is where we meet with all fifty of the Peace Corps Trainees and we are given cultural lessons and taught strategies specific to our jobs. It is nice to see everyone, but a long ride one my extremely hard bike seat. We are given an hour and a half for lunch and a group of us have found a cute little corner of the market that make great Pad Thai and Thai Tea, so we go everyday and get a meal for three for 35 bat (One American Dollar). We live this life from Monday to Saturday and then are given a day off – each day feels like a week and Sunday feels like an hour. It is crazy to think I have only been here three weeks with all that has happened, but each day there is a moment of confirmation that I am in the right place. Something was calling me here, and I am glad I answered.