sweet salty sour spicy: August 2011

Today I sat. I sat for a long time on a wooden bench amongst hundreds of other parents. The weather was hot, humid and rainy, as usual. Fans whirred above my head, some spraying cool mist, which definitely kept it cooler, but did not do wonders for my hair. The last thing I need in a humid climate is more humidity, especially not the kind that is being deliberately aimed at my already frizzed-out, half curly mane (an ingenious invention with potentially disastrous implications of the beauty variety).

Despite the discomfort (and clear concern for the state of my hair), I sat on for more than two-and-a-half hours. There were speeches, songs, poems (at list I think that’s what they were), dances and prayers. Some were in English, but most in Thai. Needless to say, I did not understand it all. I couldn’t see anything either, except for a few very bad dye jobs and the hint of students performing in the distance. ‘Please rise’ and ‘please be seated’ moments broke up the monotony.

Somehow I always feel as if the Thai people around me are completely at ease with these long-winded affairs, opting to pass the time quietly listening or perhaps sneaking in a conversation with a neighbor. They are used to it. I should be by now. I’ve been to my fair share of mind-numbingly long presentations. Alas, I am not. I like to think of it as my own version of restless leg syndrome, but instead it is restless foreigner syndrome.

As I am not one to sit still for long, I have taught myself to deal with the discomfort of stillness by letting my mind wander. If I don’t understand what they’re saying, why try to listen, right? It can actually be good, quality thinking time for me. So, sitting there this morning, after answering a few emails, checking Facebook and making sure no one was available for a chat on Skype, my mind switched into pensive mode.

The reason I was there today (albeit two days early), in a parent-heat sandwich, was due to the fact that August 12 is Mother’s Day in Thailand and most importantly, the Queen’s birthday. So, as I was tuning out the heat and speeches about respecting our mothers, I made myself aware of a few things that I really enjoy about being here, on this bench, in this country.

Here is my list:

My 4 and 6 year old children are already fluent in Thai. I am forced to play catch-up.
The deep respect for family and togetherness is impressive. Not stifling, impressive.
Pomp and circumstance is good every now and then (even if I resist it). At least it makes you get dressed up all pretty a few times a year.
There is nothing greater for a busy parent than a school uniform. Not having to wrestle that really dirty, sequined top out of your child’s hand on the way to school – priceless. And, when you see the students all lined up – they look pretty good together down to those pesky braids that I have to twist every morning.
Food is never out of the picture. Even during important ceremonies, the kitchen is always open.
If by chance, the kitchen is closed, you simply take 5 steps out the gate and follow the smells to your choice of hundreds of snacking options.
Having a rainy season means that the locals know how to plan for rain. Tents are always on hand. Events don’t get delayed or cancelled. They happen. You may be soaked by the time you get there, but the good news is, you won’t be alone.
I can feel better about being late for everything. No matter how late I am, someone is always later than me.
The power of music to bring out emotions is amazing. I still get chills every time I hear the King’s royal anthem, whether in a movie theatre, on television or on the street. You can sense the respect for the monarchy in its regal crescendos.
Sitting and waiting is O.K. It gives me time to stop and think. (This last one took me a very long time to learn – it didn’t just happen this morning).