I have strep throat, but the pain went all the way around to the base of my skull, so I’m calling it strep neck. Ugh. I went looking for a doctor to confirm that it was bacterial (because you can buy antibiotics over the counter here), and ended up in the ER. They were very nice, the place was clean and efficient, and I paid less than $20 for the whole thing (all out of pocket—I don’t know how our insurance works yet). Public health care is so utterly oppressive!
I spent last weekend in Chiang Mai, by myself. A weekend
alone is decadent enough, but Chiang Mai has worked its way into my top five
favorite cities. In no particular order, they are: Austin, DC, Boston, Munich,
and now Chiang Mai. I love places that honor their history and uniqueness, not
just vast wastelands of chain stores and restaurants with a hotly defended
two-block area of cultural preservation, which is just about every other US
city I’ve seen. (Granted, I haven’t seen Portland yet, and San Francisco ticks
all those boxes perfectly on paper, but for some reason it didn’t speak to me
when I was there.) Public transportation is a major factor, and Austin is
lacking there, but its motto is “Keep Austin Weird”—I can’t argue with that.
Chiang Mai has that X factor for me. It’s a manageable size;
I took my bike down on the bus and spent the weekend seeing most of it on two
wheels. It has endless streets of curious little storefronts and cafes,
interspersed with 15th-century temples. It has a university with a
gorgeous campus, right in town. There’s a mountain range just to one side of the
city, lush and jungle-y and close enough to touch. There is a modern shopping
district with hip restaurants and bars. There is so much to do and see and
taste and smell. It’s everything that’s great about Thailand, polished up by an
intelligent young population. I just love it.
In this video I mention taking a spot in a temple behind a
guy. It turned out it was a meditation class. After a while, they stood up and
started doing this walking meditation thing. I tried to follow along but had no
idea what I was doing, so the teacher came over to me and showed me what to do.
I was kind of embarrassed, having jumped into their class, but it was very cool
to learn something new.
We’ve been here four months now, and I definitely feel like
we’re settling in. I’ve come to terms with some things we just cannot find
here, and I’m okay with it. A co-worker said she misses dill pickles. It looked
it up, and it turns out they’re almost easier to make than to buy. I made a
batch and they’re so good I don’t know if I’ll ever buy them again. I also made
my own yogurt (which they have here, but it’s expensive and way too sweet) and
it turned out great! I’ve lamented artichoke hearts, and I just realized the
other day that there are no grapevine leaves here in any form—stuffed, raw, in
a jar. No dolmades for a long while. Corn tortillas will taste amazing when I
finally get them again. (A side note: I did find them in Chiang Mai and bought
three packages of them! Then I left them on the bus. Wasn’t meant to be, I
guess.)
But it’s dawning on me that there are other things we’re
missing, too. We don’t have a mailbox full of flyers and special offers. There
are almost no commercials on TV. I don’t feel like anything is assaulting my
senses and screaming for my attention; I can actually hear myself think. We never hear crappy Clear Channel music,
anywhere, ever. (We could stay here thirty more years and still return home to
hear “Free Fallin” and “Better Man” on heavy rotation. “Under the Bridge.” John
Mellencamp’s boring “Cherry Bomb.”) And watching the American outrages du jour
unfold online from this distance makes me realize that we’re missing out on the
shame police. There are no scolds here, no finger-wagging know-it-alls.
 |
| America. |
Not that I’ve seen, anyway—maybe there are, and since I
don’t speak Thai, well…? But it seems like a uniquely American pastime,
particularly with parenting. Should, you
should, you need to, you should have. I feel like I’m at a safe enough
distance to throw up my middle finger from twenty thousand miles away. I’m not
saying Thailand is perfect and America sucks; it’s not that black & white. But
it’s very strange that I feel more free living in an actual police state.
I saw this article recently about stressed-out parenting in
America (that's a link there, it's hard to see). The article is spot-on, but then… I only read through about 50
comments, but after realizing that half of those said “QUIT WHINING,” I closed
the screen, depressed. It’s that whole “you’re on your own, pal” attitude that
makes it so unappealing. America’s mean, isolated, bootstrap culture. No examining of the problem, just "quit whining." "Shut up and get back to work, you chose this." Everyone
chiming in with unhelpful words instead of actual helping hands. Even just a
little empathy would go a long way.
It doesn’t escape me that I criticize that culture of
isolation, and yet I’ve chosen to isolate myself from everything and everyone I
know. But it’s a different kind of isolation. The systemic isolation in the US
is sad—everyone feeling like they need to hoard their stuff, fortify their
castles, actually arm themselves to “defend” them. I listen to the other expats
here talk about various dramas going on back home, and they’re usually relieved
that they don’t have to deal with any of it. Some of us feel like we’re getting
away with something. I know a couple of women who no longer have to listen to people
ask them why they’re single. Another one moved from a beautiful but violent
country where she had a few toxic relatives and through-the-roof stress. A few others, well, Nick and I can
only speculate what kind of stuff they’ve left behind. Of course, we all have
our own problems here, but they’re ours. I’m reminded of this commercial quite
often—I used to love it just as a runner, but now it has even more meaning.
Sorry this was kind of a downer. Being able to hear myself
think means that there’s lots of opportunity to do just that. My next post will
be on random cultural differences, much lighter and more fun.
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