Ten Things

The following is a list of ten things that would be better than sitting in my livingroom watching my roommate eat dinner and sweating in the Bangkok April heat on a Friday night:

1. Eating an ice cream cone at the Quechee gorge with Bec and Linda, warm in our jackets away from the cool Vermont April chill.

2. Watching MTV reruns, such as The Real World (any season), Rich Girls, and various other reality shows that make the days pass so fast. Hours and hours on the couch of only MTV and bagels.

3. Hiking up the mountain in Montreal alone to reach the top, sit on the ledge and look over one of the most beautiful cities in the whole wide world.

4. Go to Zafdigs in Boston, well, really Brookline for a tuna melt and blood orange orangina with Lydia, talking about silly boys and our next planned trip to the mountains.

5. Sitting in the philosophy section of Chapters in London, Ontario, where I spent many of my university years looking for answers and only finding questions.

6. Driving with my mum, anywhere. Anytime. Even just to get gas.

7. Again, Montreal. Going to the bagel place on that street, you know the one...Where my parents are at this very moment soaking up the flour littered floors and buying bags and bags of Montreal bagels I will never ever ever get to try.

8. Sitting on the beach in Phuket, watching the sun set with some cold Thai beer, listening to the waves and getting sand in between my toes.

9. On any given porch with my older brother, talking about our lives and what we want to make of ourselves. Wrapped in big blankets, drinking wine, thinking about how our lives are so different from what they were 15 years ago.

10. At home. Not doing anything, simply wandering from room to room, seeing my family and using the computer, watching tv, helping my mum make chocolate, walking outside, playing with the dogs. Doing home things. That is what I miss most.

Woodstock, Vermont

spring cleaning

As most people tend to do on election day, I spent the day cleaning out my entire house, moving tables, desks, couches, tvs, ovens, etc, and have finally found the peaceful home I knew was hiding in the CRAP.

I have finally found the USB thingie for my camera, so I have two photos that make me smile.

Exhibit A:

Looking through old photos from Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai last month, I wondered about these sweet girls I met in their village in Chiang Rai.

Exhibit B:

About a month after Sante's death, we finally picked up who would have been his girlfriend if he had made it. Presenting Sante's girlfriend, healthier and heftier, and a complete joy...Sophie. (Which after naming her after my parents dog in America, as it was one of few names Rin could say...realized is a brand of Thai maxi pads. Oh well...lucky for her!) Not to mention, she was born on my birthday!

After reading this, I was inspired to say a few words about my past five days in the south of Thailand.

This past week was Sonkran, the Thai New Year. In a familial sense, this is a holiday for families to get together, much like Christmas for my family. I had a few days off work, so Rin and I drove down to visit his mother in Chumphon, whom we hadn’t seen since the end of December.

Going down to his mum’s place has always been a hard journey for me. While I am quite talkative and adventurous in my own culture, being in a place that is completely foreign to me in every possible way really gets to me. I have gone through it before…bats in the house, spiders in the toilet, showering from a basin of freezing water from the well…the same water we drink, floaties and all. The people in Chumphon have always been, well…blunt. As in most rural communities in Thailand, the local people have never seen a foreigner, only on television. They assume we all look like Jennifer Aniston and look sexy in everything. I have been handed every possible comment in my many journeys to the south over the past two years. “Oh, you’re big.” “Oh you’re, so pretty.” “And tell me, why is it that your eyes are so blue?” “Do you have to wear black?” “Is your mother this pretty?” “You must maker a lot of money to be able to use suck nice shampoo.” Everything under the sun. I have become immune to these comments, and have learned that it is simply acceptable to say these things. Thais don’t mean them as things that would make you cry, they are simply observations, like, ‘oh, it’s raining.’

Over the last year and a half since I went home, I have lost quite a bit of weight. This was completely accidental, and only due to the fact that I was working all the time, and Thai food was so unappealing to me for so long, and foreign food was too much effort or too unhealthy, prepared in oil and grease. (Thais seem to think western food = hamburgers and French fries, ketchup on everything.) This weight loss has been very welcomed, as my weight has been something I have struggled with for most of my life. I was finding it hard to fit into any clothes I had brought with me, but then I was not yet the size ‘0’ the Thai girls are. My new size 14ish body was left with old big clothes and a selection of Thai plus size clothes that all seem to be printed with Winnie the Pooh or some other unfortunate character. Thais seem to think, ‘look, I’m big! But I still like cute things!’ I began to get clothes made at a local tailor, suits and such for work. Once I adjusted to life in Bangkok I began making an effort to simply eat. I had gone so long living on iced coffee and, well, not a hell of a lot else. A few forkfuls of rice and some mango every day. Not a healthy way to lose weight, but that wasn’t what I was trying to do. I made an effort to cook more. To spend more on good food and time to make decent meals. Italian, Mexican, and anything in between. I was feeling better, less tired and more encouraged about a healthier lifestyle.

And of course, an effect of eating food is, gaining weight. I have gained a bit of weight since last December when I went to see Rin’s family. When I look in the mirror, I see a healthier girl. I know I still have plenty of weight to lose, but I am working on it in a healthy way. I look at pictures of myself a year ago when I first moved to Bangkok, and my eyes were framed by dark circles, and my smiles were always forced. I looked like a crack addict, yearning for sleep.

When we arrived in Chumphon last Wednesday night, after ten hours on the road in 93 degree heat, only barely relieved by our air conditioning, I was tired. I wanted to take a shower and go to sleep. The first thing Rin’s grandmother said to me is ‘wow, she’s gained weight.” My hands pressed together in front of my face to wai her in respect, and she says this. The word spreads around, and over the next three days people stopped by Rin’s house at all hours to say ‘yah, she is bigger.’ Thank you. Literally about five pounds, and I am only greeted by negative comments. The thing is, every person who came to the house commented on the following three things, in this order:

‘She’s bigger alright.’
‘But she’s so pretty. Why doesn’t she just lose weight.’
Rin is so lucky.

And so I spent nearly every morning locked in his mum’s room (the only room) filled with tears, hitting Rin for not sticking up for me, listening to him tell me it doesn’t matter. I was so angry, so discouraged. So upset about everything. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I didn’t want to see anything. I told Rin I would take the train back alone, but I wasn’t going to stay there anymore.

My three days at his house were the most painful three days possibly, in my life. I was looking forward to going home and sleeping in my fat bed in Bangkok, taking a fat shower, and wearing my fat pjs with my fat dog and fat life. Everything about me had grown in size, especially my anger. I left this time without wai-ing his grandmother. I used to wai her all the time. The thing is, she knows better. Rin has told her before and she knows how much the comments hurt. Especially since at her house there are two women who are significantly bigger than two of my put together. I found myself being petty and rude, wanting to say things like ‘at least I have more than two teeth,’ and ‘but look how happy I am!’ (As her comments seemed to be coming from some place of unhappiness in her own life.)

I haven’t felt this way in a long time. So angry, so petty, so mean. I want to go down to see them again without feeling like I need to be sickly thin. Last time I went I was still big, but smaller than now, and unhealthy. They always asked me why I didn’t eat anything. I just didn’t want to. I feel bad for my attitude towards them, but I feel so angry. They know it hurt me. I was nothing but nice to them, doing groceries for his mum, giving a gold bracelet to his new cousin, even buying an mp3 player for his cousin who said he would give anything to have one, which he mentioned months ago. I made a real effort, cleaning the house for them, looking after chores, bringing water in from outside. But I only got hurt.

I am learning to deal with this kind of behaviour, but I know this is something I couldn’t deal with for the rest of my life. I am who I am. Big small, square or triangle. As long as I live in Thailand my imperfections will constantly be pointed out. (Such as at school today, a teacher commented on my dark skin from being in the sun over the break. ‘mai suai’ she said under her breath. –‘not beautiful’-) I am slowly learning to grow thicker skin, but it is a long and tiring process.

in the middle of a 'discussion,' at peace with my music

As Rin and I argue over something silly like a bbq, I find that I have found a new safety from this strange world I have been calling home for two years now.

My music.

Let me say that again. My music.

My mother even calls it Heather's Music.

Before I left for Thailand the first time I went and blew a few hundred dollars on an i-pod-esque device which I thought was prettier than an i-pod, and held all the music I could ever want. I spend the remaining few days in the west glued to the screen infront of my parents' computer, trying to scrunch all my music into this 20 gigabites what would eventually be my only sanity in hard times.

I used this device religiously my first few months here before western T.V., listening to it until I wore the headphones to the wire. I went through speakers like they were candy and was constantly relieved that I had bought an adaptor which made it simple as pie to charge nearly every other day.

Rin and I spent our first all-night chats to the sounds from my little machine with cheap computer speakers, counting the hours until I had to work. He found music in my music, and we always had something to listen to.

After I moved to Bangkok I seemed to have lost the charger for this little device, and soon forgot about my music. I was listening to whatever was on. I became one of those people. When asked what they like to listen to, they would say 'whatever's on.' I was never one of those people. I always was full of artist names and certain versions of this song, track number this on this cd, to the brim. I know what I like, and I have liked these artists and moods they bring out since I was about 14. Sarah Maclaughlin, certain tracks; Natalie merchant, her live album and absolutely nothing on 'Motherland;' Jeff Buckley; Radiohead without the bizarre chord changes; Vivaldi for Sunday, but usually only the summer movement of the Four Seasons; super old and super new Madonna; Jann Arden and almost every single one of her songs in my car; Fionna Apple's 'When the Pawn;' and a selection of Eva Cassily, Miles Davis for rainy nights, Lorenna McKennitt when I was writing, and only when I was writing, and of course, about every possible song ever with a deep cello which made my skin jump in a good way.

I have never really listened to the radio, except for in the shower in high school, party because I don't like other people to pick my music. My mum would write to my and tell me she missed my music. My music was everything. It was a connection to my roots, a connection to comfort and happiness nothing else in this would could give me.

It has been about six months since I have listened to even a single song. I have bought CDs and listened to them in the car, but nothing that has really touched me. In a fit of cleaning to welcome our new house-mate last week Rin found the charger to my little wonder and I charged it up and have had the new earphones stuck in my ears at all times except for in the shower. I have newfound freedom. A new escape from things I am having a hard time thinking about right now. I nice memory of working with my mother in her little shop in Vermont. Buzzed nights in Montreal with a couple of crazy Australian girls, teaching them a thing or two about Canadian music. Memories are flooding back to me. I am busy with new highspeed internet at home, trying to make enough CDs to last Rin and I the ten hour drive we have ahead of us as we head into the jungle on Wednesday for the Thai new year.

My music is back, and so am I.