Never take coconut juice from strangers (???)

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I'm not kidding. I was walking down my street, headed toward the internet place to post this blog, when a lady pulled over on her bike and INSISTED I ride on the back (side-saddle!) while she peddled me down the street to where the moto-taxis are. Caused quite a stir (and lots of laughs) in the neighborhood. I was as scared as I was the first time on the motorbike taxi, because our balance was definitely precarious. Oh the irony . . .

The first time people saw me they probably thought I was some short-lived neighborhood anomaly, but now that they KEEP seeing me, I am still an oddity, but more of a permanent one, one that can perhaps be approached and talked to.

Walked to cute tea stand and the motorbike taxi drivers, ever-helpful (at a times a little overeager) shout “farang!” (foreigner) to alert the lady who works the stand. The motorbike taxis have unofficial (or maybe they ARE official, for all I know) pick-up areas where a cluster of them congregate. My guys (in green vests) recognize me since I walk past there almost every day. I usually like to walk, but sometimes if I’m lazy or want to get there quicker, I hop on one of the motorbikes. I’ve gotten even more comfortable with them and even enjoy the ride, though the other day in the midst of rush-hour traffic on Sukhumvit Rd., the driver took a call on his cell phone! Too precarious! Didn’t like!

When I approach the motorbike taxi men, one of them always gives me the symbol—2 hands pantomiming gripping the handles of the bike, maybe even revving the engine a little—with a questioning look on his face. So one day I did a little pantomime of my own, using my first two fingers “walking” through the air, as I said, “just walking, thanks.” Well the next time and every time since then, when I approach the stand and don’t immediately name a location, when I see that particular guy, he does my two-finger pantomime and says “walking” with a big grin on his face. It’s priceless.

The other people around the neighborhood are starting to recognize me and it is feeling friendlier, not that it ever felt unfriendly or that I can now actually communicate with them, but there are more smiles, and attempts at “hello” and “sawadee” on both sides. Even the older woman in yellow smiled at me yesterday, which is truly a breakthrough.

There is a woman who speaks decent English who greets me in the morning: “Hello, good morning. Where you going?” The first time it happened, I told her that I was going to work and we talked about which school. In the subsequent days she greets me the same way, including the, “Where you going?”

Yesterday, I carried a bowl of cereal with me to eat when I arrived at school and from midway down the street, I saw her gesture animatedly to her friend that I was carrying a bowl. I can only imagine the dialogue: “Here comes the strange farang, carrying a bowl of something.” “What do you think it is?” “I’m going to stop her to get to the bottom of this truly perplexing mystery.” So she varied from her usual question of “Where you going?” to ask what was in the bowl. Both ladies seemed satisfied that it was my “morning food,” so I went on my way.

But they were ready for me after school. The lady who speaks English translated for the other woman. They wanted to know why the school doesn’t feed me breakfast and what I eat for dinner (her friend has a food stand and I think they wanted to know why I never buy street food in the neighborhood in the evening). They were satisfied by my answer that I cook in my apartment because “kin jae.” “Kin jae” means “I eat vegan food,” which isn’t of course entirely true, but it works better than “I am vegetarian” because if I don’t say “jae” they always want to put egg in it, and often fish/oyster sauce and other fishy business. My nuances are lost here. It has to be black and white, but then if I tell someone I’m “jae” and then they see me eating an ice cream, I turn his/her universe upside down (happened at school once). But they weren’t done with me yet, they also asked the usual battery of questions: “Where do you live? Do you live alone? Do you have a boyfriend? How old are you?” Basically, questions that we would never ask upon first meeting someone. A lot of people ask the “Do you live alone?” question, which always makes me a little uncomfortable because it comes up when it is completely unnecessary and unrelated to what is going on (i.e. five Thai young adults are helping me get a moto-taxi from the bus station back to my apartment). But, feeling out the situation, I usually answer truthfully. And when I need to, I drum up the made-up boyfriend who supposedly lives in Ban Phe.

For the most part it is nice to have more interaction with people in the neighborhood, but sometimes you just want to be left alone. Today, for instance, I was running a little later than usual and my usual morning greeter surprised me with, “Where you go? Already 8 o’clock.” “Yes,” I say with a semi-forced tight-lipped smile, “I’m a little late,” and scurried on down the road. Another time, just before Thanksgiving, I popped in to use internet after getting back from grocery shopping in Sri Racha and on the way out I caught the sweet and gracious internet lady peaking in my grocery bags, only to see, much to her apparent disapproval, the bottle of wine and maybe the bottle of rum, too, for double damage. “Thanksgiving. American holiday. Big celebration,” I babbled, trying to make sure she knew I’m not drinking alone each night in my room, knowing that she wasn’t understanding a word of it.

On the positive side, one Friday I was headed off to school and I was sporting my new sunglasses for the first time. I heard giggles coming out of one of the doorways and I figured it was because of the sunglasses, but then a man stepped out and crossed over to me in the street. He handed me a plastic bottle in a plastic bag (always in the unnecessary plastic bag) with what I thought was milk (yuck, but a nice thought anyway), but turned out to be coconut juice with chunks of coconut in there. Yummy! I didn’t think twice about taking that candy from a stranger. And then the other night the woman who always warns me about getting mugged on my street at night (I honestly don’t feel threatened at all, but I guess one of her friends got her purse stolen in the area), who also has a little food stand, gave me two ears of corn. I tried to pay, but she wouldn’t let me! I obviously don’t know the financial circumstances of these individuals, but there is an interesting paradox that seems to hold true for all the places I’ve been—that the poorest people are always the most giving. Why is that? The generosity of the people here continues to astound me.

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Comments

[Stephanie Null]

Under the Tuscan Sun
I feel like you are Diane Lane in that movie/book where she is so excited when the old man tips his hat at her! Love it.

[Kay]

Laurie: I am seeing Thailand in a whole different light. You make me want to live in a foreign country. Enjoy this to the fullest. Kay

[vinny]

good thing i'm coming. there will be two strange americans for them to gawk at. or at least, for a brief time, you won't really have to drink alone in you room.

[lkrhoads]

well, i could be Diane Lane, if I were 30 years older, but thanks anyway! just kidding. you and me both are knock-knock-knockin' on cougar door, so don't forget it, lady. i do feel a little like diane lane in that movie, except that chonburi is just SLIGHTLY less romantic than Tuscany. By a hair.

[lkrhoads]

I'm glad you are enjoying my perspective! It's a great learning experience, being over here!!