Chiang Mai

Although I already posted about my amazing time in Chiang Mai, I recently wrote about it again.  CIEE, the program I came to Thailand with, was holding an essay contest.  There were a variety of different questions, but I chose to write about my experience in Chiang Mai.  Fingers crossed for the $500 Amazon.com gift card!

I stood in the Chiang Mai airport, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my best friend, Bri.  When she finally walked through the doors from baggage claim, exactly fourteen minutes after her flight landed, I became completely overwhelmed.  There was so much I wanted to show her, so much I wanted her to experience.  There were so many people I wanted her to meet, and so much I wanted her to learn.

Over the next few days, we experienced Thailand in a way even I had never had.  We stayed in the home of a friend with about twenty other people from our hometown of Khon Kaen.  There was a great variety of people in the house, young and old, mingling in a constant state of happiness during Songkran, the festival of the Thai new year.  We ate amazing meals, something I had become accustomed to over the past six months, but something Bri reminded me not to take for granted.  The hospitality was over the top.  We never felt a pang of hunger, our glasses were never empty, and our days were never boring.

We traveled as a pack, enjoying the tourist spots of Chiang Mai.  But these were far from the tourist spots of guidebooks and western travelers.  We were seeing Chiang Mai as a Thai person would.  We went to the hot springs.  We boiled eggs in unbearably hot water, and then ate them with soy sauce while our feet dangled in less hot water.  We visited the underground temple.  We went to the river, and feasted on delectable food, delivered by a basket pulley system from a stand on the hill.  We ate while a friend stood knee deep in the water, playing his guitar and singing stereotypical American songs.  We were part of a parade!  We danced through the streets accompanying the money trees of the village to the nearby temple.   We were the only westerners wherever we went, we stuck out like sore thumbs, and we were welcomed with open arms.  And it all seemed so normal for me.  This had become my life.

After leaving Chiang Mai, Bri and I headed down south to spend some quality time on the renowned Thai beaches.  We spent hours basking in the sun, and soaking up the culture.  In the middle of one of our ongoing talks, Bri turned to me and said, “I just want you to know how awesome this is.”  I was unsure of exactly what she was referring to, and replied with, “I know.  These beaches are breathtaking.”  But I had misinterpreted.  Bri went on to explain how proud she is of me for coming to this country, completely alone, and making such an amazing life for myself.  I became shy, downplaying what I had actually accomplished, but she continued.

I walked away from the conversation, taken by what she had said.  I had no intention of proving anything to anyone.  I did not come to Thailand to be impressive to my friends and family, I did it for myself.  And months later, I am well on my way to accomplishing what I set out to do.  I have made lasting relationships.  I have learned a bit of the language, and am learning more everyday.  I have a wonderful job that I enjoy.  I have created a life for myself, and I am very happy.  The fact that Bri is impressed, is just an added bonus!