Another year

Another year can be described via different contexts such as an academic year, birthday cycle, Western year, wedding anniversary, or years spent in a foreign country!

I am growing slowly during my years in America. Whether it is change that can be seen or can be touched or simply a change in relation to my acceptance of various frameworks of life.

In that framework, I am seeking to gain more wisdom in my daily life, to be more balanced.

Another year will go by and remind me to embrace what I see as the dichotomy of power - the power to draw a line where there is balance or the power to exceed and lose balance.

In this coming year, may we all gain the beautiful and necessary wisdom to make a good framework in our life!

TAN

(re) connect

Whenever people (either Thais or foreigners) complained to me that they hate Bangkok, I accepted those opinions but naturally tried to defend Bangkok. Everyone told me how they don't like the pollution, traffic jams, Western influences and all of the bad things that the big city showed to them. I always listened with discontent. I always disagreed, quietly in my heart.

Bangkok is my hometown. I was born there 35 years ago. I have lived in Bangkok off and on.

I love the changing process of the city, and I enjoy observing the struggles of people from all walks of life. I don't like the pollution in Bangkok, but I lived in Bangkok because my soul was planted there. I keep exploring Bangkok, to all its millions of corners, where there are no tourists or even the native Bangkokian. I was educated from a famous and very good school in Bangkok.

I was looking out of the Metro window today and I saw Bangkok's shadow on the Potomac river. These two cities share similar identities. It is not too complicated for me to adjust my live in DC.

The fact is that big cities are places where everyone gathers; all good things and bad things thrive. What matters the most is the "people" who live, work and were born in that town who usually have a connection and a history with that town.

I love Bangkok, but I am learning to live in DC. I am planting a new seed in different soil.

I need to (re) connect.

TAN

Kids play, Water pumps

I had a stressful week; thus I need a completely relaxing weekend of "not thinking about work," but pondering more about life instead.

And I'm glad to say that I had the inspiring weekend that I was yearning for.

I took a bus and went straight to a unique coffee shop, called Pangea (Pan-jee-ah). It is the kind of cafe that brings together cultures and traditional crafts from all corners of the world. (a similar idea as the Ten Thousand Villages shops). Pangea is an educational retail shop and cafe that features high quality handcrafted products made by artisans in developing countries.

I entered the cafe with the thought that a good coffee and crafts would soothe my exhausted mind. In fact, I gained more than I had wished for.

Coffee was ordered with a nice sized chocolate muffin. The cashier told me that the chocolate muffin was a good choice, and I smiled and told him that I needed something sweet. Proceeding to the wooden four-seat tables, I started to sip a medium cup of coffee and closed my eyes.

My worries about work started to haunt me. My workplace is in a transitional stage. I am in the position to facilitate that transition and am also in the transition myself. I am worried whether I will do a good job in trying to implement the changes that are necessary. I am worried that people will not be receptive and understand about the changes, especially people who have been with the organization for a long time. I am worried that ...

I walked around the shop, listening to the native live Peruvian music. I told myself to drop all of those worries.

I went to the restroom and was in awe of the big poster in front of the door. It said, "kids play, water pumps." The bright poster had a picture of African kids moving the big wheel, as a switch for the water pumps. As the kids play with it, the clean water is pumping toward the villages. I kept reading the description and standing there in awe.

There are lots of people/organizations out there in the world, trying to implement changes. I assume that we are all facing a certain level of frustration and confusion. In the end, we need to remind ourselves of the things that matter the most.

I realized that my worries are small in comparison to the worries of the poor families of the world

who don't always know where to get the next meal or where to find clean drinking water. I want to be like those kids, playing and letting the problem spin itself until a solution comes out.

Thanks to the world, I felt inspired by that poster, "kids play, water pumps." My worries have melted away.

TAN

Umbrella Term

This all happened in my new country, of course.

How would you feel if you were trying to do something (and you know why you were doing that) and a random neighbor/stranger told you that what you were doing was considered wrong and inappropriate?

Amused, irritated, freaked out, dumbfounded, perplexed, interested or something else?

Winter 2005 - I spent my entire cold season in Burlington, Vermont. I was a new fish in the pond, learning to walk in the deep snow, learning to dress properly in the winter, learning to taking a bus to work to the homeless family shelter, learning that life could be cold and that that was o.k

Then, one day, it was not o.k.

I walked from my apartment to the bus stop on a typical heavy snow day, and I didn' t want to get wet. I took an umbrella to protect myself from the wetness. The bus arrived, I ran up and made sure that the umbrella was closed. I sat down warmly and happy. Suddenly, a middle- aged Vermont woman, sitting across me, yelled at me, "ma'am, we don't use an umbrella with snow! Do you understand?" Almost every single passenger on the bus looked at me as if I came from the 18th-century world.

My face turned to the colour of a ripe tomato. She told me that in this state (or this country), it was not o.k. to use an umbrella to protect myself from the wetness. But I thought I had total "freedom" to do any thing I wanted in this country?

The ride to work was so long (really only 3 minutes) because of this awkward feeling of committing an inappropriate cultural mistake. I have never been in snow, of course, and I didn't know what to do with snow.

(Two years later) December 5th, 2007 - I was in Washington, DC. Today was the first snow day of the year. I left my office at around 6 p.m., and was busy comparing my first snow day in Vermont with my first snow day in DC. Then I saw a black man, in a nice suit, carrying a big umbrella, walk past me.

I stopped, laughed and smiled. "He must be crazy," I thought quietly.

But no he wasn't crazy. I kept walking, and to my utter surprise, almost EVERY single DC person in Dupont Circle on the way to the metro was carrying an umbrella to protect themselves from the snow!

How I love my umbrella, that Vermont woman, and the difference of perspective a small move in the United States can make!

TAN

Home Sick

Homesickness is a common, painful feeling for me, over the last two years, or for anyone who (chooses to) leave their homeland.

Tonight, my husband and I walked back home together, and he gently asked, "do you feel lonely?" I said"No, it is a feeling of disconnectedness to my roots." "as far as I remember, I never felt lonely." The steps toward our apartment seemed a little far for me.

There were a few prompts for my homesickness today.

I went to a Thai restaurant with four co-workers. It was a company holiday lunch of the year. I told my co-workers that it was my first visit to a Thai restaurant in DC. I usually cook Thai at home. I ordered a spicy street noodle soup. I tried to speak Thai to the waiter. He spoke English to me. I knew he is Thai since I heard him speaking Thai to his co-workers. I was shocked and felt out of the loop. What was wrong with me? (or with him?)

I spoke my native language to a Thai person and he spoke English back to me. I can try to understand everything, but this simple manner seemed complicated to my common sense.

I felt disconnected to this waiter. My attempt to bring back my reminiscent feeling of going to a Thai restaurant, enjoying Thai food, and speaking Thai with Thai staff had failed. The noodle soup was o.k but could have tasted better if I had had a connection with the waiter.

My other self told me to "move on."

Two more days from now will be my wedding anniversary. Ben and I were married in Chiang Rai, Thailand. Tonight, he gave me a book, "Eat, Pray, Love" which I have enjoyed reading several times in the bookstore. I had never thought of investing in that, no matter how popular the book is. I don't want to ship so much stuff back to Thailand.

I was touched by the gift. Thank you very much, Ben.

About four years ago, I was in Thailand, living a simple, great life in the north of Thailand.The land where my roots are planted, my heart beats in a graceful step when I think of my family and friends. The land from which I came to realize the true feeling of homesickness when I am not there.

The disconnection of time and space creates a longing feeling of living in a world where ethnic connection is very important to me.

Homesickness is an unavoidable feeling for the intercultural life. I must embrace it.

TAN