my phone feels heavy
very, very heavy.
and it’s cold
really, really cold.
in thailand, i had a nice lightweight cell complete with all the essentials a phone needs and nothing more (including, but not limited to: an LED flashlight, snake xania and a conversion calculator). and for the last two months i have been steaming in highly humid heat, not using jackets. and now, here, i step off the plane into below freezing LAX conditions and am handed a cell phone that weighs over 2 kilos and does NOT have an LED flashlight, snake xania, or a conversion calculator.
and then it appears i seem to be more inept when it comes to surviving–gracefully at least–my own native culture when compared with my adaptation skills in surviving northern thai villages. allow me to expand…
the standard greeting in thailand is sawasdee ka (for the ladies), while simultaneously putting your hands in the prayer/namaste position in front of your chest. i have become so accustomed to such that upon entering restaurants and meeting strangers, immediately my hands assume the position and i say something to the effect of “sawahello” catching myself mid-sentence and slyly trying to throw my hands back at my sides, where they belong in america. to add to the awkwardness, habitual thai phrases keep falling out of my mouth…
my first trip to the supermarket proved to be quite a culture shock, as well. in thailand, at any given 7-11 (a store that litters every street corner, much like the starbucks do here), even though you may be the only one in line (or even in the store), it does not follow that you will receive speedy service. in fact, there is little pressure on the clerk to do any such thing. and, too, there is no social faux paux committed when pulling out all the cash you have on hand in public. so, as i wait for the cashier to ring up all my food items, i stand obliviously holding all my dollars out in the open and responding to her with such things as “oh, don’t worry about it”–but in thai. as the total pops up on the register, i then proceed to fan my money out and select the proper bills–where my excellent peripheral vision catches the girl in line behind me staring at me with a open-mouthed, deadpan expression, saying ever so discreetly, ” you have GOT to be kidding me.” at this, my incompetency comes to my consciousness as i fumble quickly to pay and shove the remaining cash back into my wallet, where it belongs in america.
and then, after spending a pleasant lunch with my mother (yes, at a thai restaurant, where i urged the lady to tell me the nearest asian market so that i may nostalgically cook food for myself from her homeland), we go back to my parents’ house to retrieve my loyal camry. and thus the drive home commences–me in a state of tense, controlled panic solo at the wheel. after scooting around on a motorbike these past two months and considering signs and signals secondary to the flow of traffic and the whims of the bigger cars around me, self-reminders like: “not wearing a seatbelt is illegal” and “yellow lights really mean the red is coming, and red really does mean you must stop” paralleled similar thoughts of: “i forget how long it takes to brake in a car!” and “i am too big! much to wide, much bigger than a motorbike!” about halfway through this 10 minute, death-defying trek, my phone rings. and i would make any officer proud as i patriotically uphold the law by shouting to my friend on the line, “i can’t talk right now, i’m driving!” but i can assure you all of this does not compare to the still difficult cultural reversal of trying to remember to drive on the right side of the road, where cars belong in america. needless to say, that evening i opted to walk to the bank.
you may be surprised at my calm exterior as i undergo what the experts deem as ‘reverse culture shock’, but do not be deceived: my mind has not ceased to race, firing neurons at hyperspeeds since i landed in the states. but also do not think i am in any way unsatisfied in my current location, it just takes some time, is all. the experiences of joy upon reuniting with those that i love and who help my heart beat with their love and prayers for me have far outweighed the bouts of insanity and dramatic over-reactions i entertain (they come at the most unexpected of moments–for instance, as i am passively sitting in the passenger seat of the car, a spontaneous urge from within wants to claw through the car window screaming in banshee-like fashion: “get me out of here! take me back! paleeeeeeeeeeeeease!” and then it passes, all unbeknown to the driver…).
but as i settled into bed my first night back, i could not shake the feeling that maybe these past seven months did not really exist. i mean, coming back seems so natural and aside from a few aesthetic changes, it feels the same–i am just as connected to my people here as i was before i left and home still feels like home. so maybe all that God did in me, maybe all that i am in Him now, did not occur. and now the geek in me begins to deduce how exactly this could be possible given what we know in quantum physics and depending on the feasibility of string theory, i very well may have left and returned without any time lapse at all. no, these are all lies straight from the most evil of places–i went to thailand and it was in this lifetime for a period of seven months, and it is a part of who i am now. so this first night, instead of counting sheep, i resolve to fight away these threats of nonexistence with the declaration:
it happened, it happened!
IT HAPPENED.
(an word on the title: translated it means, ‘thai person! thai person!’, of which my heart signals me whenever i meet one here, and in thailand it was usual response back when a thai person would point at me and say, “farang! farang!”, which means foreigner.)
i think quite a lot, read a bit, and write even less...but God still works with me, so i'm following Him: wherever.
