Thailand Journal – Entry 6 - A Tiger Among Elephants

As part of my stay in Thailand, I was to move into the home of a Thai family for at least one month. Needless to say, I was a little nervous. I am usually very appreciative to the smallest of kind gestures made by strangers so knowing that people are allowing me to move in with them for a month is a bit hard to swallow. Naturally, I’d be giving them some monetary support, but that wouldn’t really compensate for the commitment.

I learned that my homestay family were a retired couple who have hosted over 8 other students in the past. “Good”...I thought... “they should be no problems communicating with them in English while I learn Thai”. Wrong.

Upon meeting the family, I learned that they spoke very little English. A bit surprising, but not unmanageable; moreover, it is my responsibility to learn to fit into to Thai culture rather than people fitting into what I am used to. The mother is kind, though that kindness and generosity is often masked by what seems to be a frown as well as a commanding body language which might be a relic of her days as a school teacher. The father is a fantastic chef who aims to please; I often catch him out of the corner of my eye watching me eat, perhaps looking for signs that I don’t like his cooking. He has a strong demeanor, which is softened by the flash of a smile.

Their house, I am told, is of a more traditional Thai architecture. It is mostly made of wood, standing upon stills, though there are some brick and concrete supports. The family lives upstairs, which has bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and an indoor-outdoor central deck where laundry is hung. I live on the first floor, which features a spacious room, likely previously shared between at least 2 of their 4 children who have since moved on to Bangkok and PhDs. I also have a bathroom, which some westerners might be a little unnerved by. At night, turning on the light is almost like watching a scene from a horror movie; the light flickers on and off before staying lit, revealing water-stained concrete and the specters of creepy crawlies who infiltrate by night. The shower consists of a faucet, a Tupperware bin and a small bowl. It is no substitute for a nice hot shower, but it works (a nice splash of cold water in the morning wakes you up). In addition to a sink and a toilet, I also have a urinal. Not standard in private washrooms in the west, but I love it. It is great for those late night, semi-conscious bathroom trips where you concentrate just as much as standing as well as aiming. Having the urinal is like having the simplest of cameras: just point and shoot.

The fan in my room is a blessing. Even though my room seems to be naturally cooler due to not having direct sunlight stream in through the windows, it still gets fairly hot. A more unmanageable frustration is that the windows act better as curtains than actual windows (at least from the glass-sliding, noise reducing ones I am used to). They consist of tinted glass panels that slide together, but do little to block out sound. Every night and early morning, I am a restless audience member to the orchestra of dogs barking (both outside my window and throughout the neighborhood) and cock-a-doodle-doos of resident chickens. I was intrigued to hear from my host father as he excitedly explained that the neighborhood has chickens that crow in the morning to wake you up. I would have been less intrigued if I knew that they would be doing this at 5 AM. Ultimately, a sound sleep can be hard to come by.

Currently, I’ve reached the end of my homestay and have elected to move into an apartment closer to the school. In addition to lack of quality sleep another problem has been social awkwardness perpetuated by significant communication and generation gaps which, for all my efforts, have been difficult to bridge; moreover, in order to get to school, I must pay for rides by taxi drivers who I have to aggressively barter with for fair prices and sometimes even for the ride itself (they are easily dismayed by the distance I ask them to travel). I only hope that the homestay family doesn’t feel rejected or dismayed, which would be unfounded.

I’ll miss hearing that pathetic, off-key version of Auld Lang Syne every time I open the fridge.

Edit: Photos and video!