After a month of disappearing into my Thai world, I am back and have more than enough to catch up on. But where to start? At the beginning and work my way toward the present, or start with the present and back track until I have finished where I left off?
I’m thinking the best place will be Boobay and Kao-Hom. They entered my life, as randomly and unplanned as everything else seems to. It was my first night in Surat Thani, and I was at some type of Thai fair with booths, vendors, games and rides.
I was walking through an extremely crowded and hot, covered-market when I laid eyes on them, well, Kao-Hom.
She was the tiniest bunny in the entire bunny-cage-exhibit, and she was bright white with electric red eyes. She was the most adorably possessed looking creature and I knew at that moment I had to have her.
After much begging and pleading I was able to convince my friend Michael that he needed one as well, because everyone knows you cannot just buy one baby bunny. That night we took our new little loves back to the hotel, snuck them in, and they have been with me since.
They instantly became best friends, and they are always cuddling with one another, or grooming each other. Sometimes I will glance over, and see Boobay licking Kao-Hom’s ears, while she closes her eyes and relaxes. They are addicted to throwing their bedding out of their cage and nibbling on anything and everything. They will eat for hours if allowed, and are able to nom on more cucumber than even seems physically possible, given their size. The first night I got them, Kao-Hom weighed less than a Snickers bar and barely took up my entire palm.
In the past few weeks she has doubled in size, and it won’t be long until shes no longer my ittybittybabybunny. I guess it’s true what people say, they really do grow up in the blink of an eye.
Next topic to address, what is this place Surat Thani that I speak of? Surat Thani is the newest place I am calling home, and hopefully one that will remain that way for the next year or so. I moved from Nakhon Sawan based on a decision that was made over night, with no real thought put into it. I liked Nakhon Sawan, and although it was starting to feel like home, it wasn’t the place that felt that way, but the people who were making it feel that way. Long story short, I was offered a job in Surat, the location looked amazing, and the transition was going to be into almost the exact same job I was going to be doing in Nakhon Sawan, so I took the offer. I accepted the job on a Thursday, and by Friday I was on a bus to the most southern parts of Thailand. I arrived in Surat after a full night ride and was instantly amazed at how beautiful it was. I know it sounds silly, but I really started to feel like I was finally in Thailand, the Thailand you see in pictures.
There were trees everywhere, tall ones, short ones, one with bananas, ones with coconuts, huge palms, ferns, vines, and flowers. Surat is extremely rural, while still remaining a decent sized city. It is the perfect combination and balance and I knew instantly that I was in love.
Surat is also located less than an hour from the beach, and is one of the closest cities to all of the southern islands. A trip to the beach went from being something I could only do during an extended holiday, to something I could do after work on a Friday. I impulsively went to Surat hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision, and despite the ups and downs, I couldn’t be happier here.
I am currently living in a hotel, called Thong Thong mansion, until I move into a house in December with two of my guy friends. I am working at one of the most desirable schools in the city, and I spend my days teaching preschool children and kindergarten. For someone who has no desire in having children, I keep finding myself surrounded by more and more little children. I love the kids I work with, but after spending all day with 2 ½- 6 year olds, I go home exhausted and drained of any energy I could hope to have. It is physically and mentally exhausting, and I have no idea how parents do it, especially young single parents. Taking care of a child has to be one of the hardest jobs, and having to take care of one full time seems unimaginable. I love walking in the door in the morning and being rushed and hugged by little tiny kids, but by the time 3:30 rolls around, elated doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling I get when I am hugging them goodbye.
My nursery classroom has about eighteen children in it, and the youngest are just under three and the oldest are about four. Their English level is low, but I know that I will see it rocket during the year that I spend with them. They absorb everything, and are constantly repeating me, even when I didn’t know they were listening. One student, see below, continues to refer to me as “Honey” which I think she probably picked up at home.
The first time she started calling me Honey I thought it was funny and kind of weird, and that it would pass. It’s been about a month now, and I am still her Honey. She will come up to me with her coloring sheet and get my attention by repeating “Hon-neeey” over and over again. Her tone of voice is the sweetest thing, and I love that that has become her nickname for me. To the rest of the kids I am teacher “All-leee, Ar-reee, Armeee, Aawee” or some other odd combination of letters with the long E sound.
The students all each have weird little quirks with me, and as everyday passes, I am getting to know them more and more, despite the language barrier. The thing is, with little children, it almost doesn’t matter that we don’t speak a common language. Yes, they know the alphabet, simple commands, and basic concepts, but they can’t really talk to me, and most of their verbal interaction with me is a mixture of Thai and English. I spend so much time doing interactive lessons that require them to express themselves through physical movement or art, that a common language almost isn’t necessary. By spending my week with them, I am learning their behavior, their personalities, and their likes and dislikes. Perhaps it is because I can’t verbally communicate with them, that I feel as if I am closer to these students than I have been in a very long time, with any other children I have worked with. There are times that they will sit in my lap, wrap their arms around me, stare at me and smile and laugh (while talking in Thai), and I start to understand the joy of having your own child, and what it must be like to have someone that you love so much, and that you helped bring into this world. But then I hear a scream from the other side of the room, and I see a child pulling something down off a shelf onto another kids head, and I am instantly ripped from this fantasy. Children are hard work, and the best part about my job is that at the end of the day, they go home to their real parents and I go home to my life of being single, unattached, and twenty-four. My responsibilities are minimal and I have literally no commitments to anything or anyone other than this job. Simplicity is bliss.
When I am not working, I am hanging out with the people I have gotten to know in town, and I am loving my new environment. While Michael was here, we spent our afternoons exploring the city on our motorbike, and spending the nights down by the night market.
We went to the beach one weekend, and it was the first time I had seen the coast in over three months. The water was warm like a bath, and when it started to rain, we stayed in the ocean just to keep warm. That night it started to pour on us- just dumped from above and everything we owned, including ourselves, was drenched. We stopped at a thrift shop to buy clothes to change into once we got rain jackets, but the thrift store only sold women’s clothes. We settled and picked out two girls shirts, one that happened to be pink, and was never meant for the size of Michael’s body. We went to 711 to buy our rain jackets and change into our new clothes, and watching him struggle to pull a tiny pink long sleeve over his wet head and shoulders was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Thai people actually stopped what they were doing and started staring at him. One lady’s jaw literally dropped as Michael struggled for far too long. The finished product was a tiny shirt that hardly reached his belly button with sleeves that had about six inches to go until they met his wrists. We put on our pink and purple plastic bag rain jackets and rode off into the dark stormy night.
Everyday I miss having him here, and I miss silly stupid little adventures with him, but I still am lucky enough to have a wonderful group of people to spend time with. My days are spent in the company of two South Africans and one American, and whomever else we end up seeing. The best thing about being in a traveler community is that you have a group of friends, so different than the people you would normally know at home. Everyone is from a different side of the globe, and everyone has a story that has landed him or her in this same weird place you are in. It’s a lot like college, minus the stress of academia.
As always, I am beyond thankful for the life I am living and wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some crazy reason I have been given this beautiful opportunity, that so many others will never experience. Everyday is an adventure, everyday is a rebirth, and everyday is greater than the last. Traveling abroad has been the best choice I have made for myself, and if you are even considering it, take my advice, and go for the plunge. Whatever fears or reservations you have should not prevent you from living your life in such a new and drastic way. You will see yourself as you never have before and you will test your mind body and soul in ways that every human should be.
Leave everything behind and just… go.