independence

There are lines of fire moving down the mountains every night. Whoever burns the forests during the summer believes the cool of the rain meeting the heat of the ash helps mushrooms grow. The smoke fills the valley and distorts the view of the mountains, making them look more distant and deep. Mae Waen in Chianmai Province has a few hundred people, the district of Phrao about 5,000. Homes are half outdoors, bedrooms opening under a high tin roof and dishwater is splashed into the neighboring garden. Trees are the ceiling of a living room with never-empty tables lined comfortably underneath. Small seeds fall on the table and we sweep them away as we snack. Rice from my host family’s farm is kept in a big shed that supports the cover of our kitchen. Sticky rice is boiled over a wooden fire, and dishes are washed in little buckets on the ground. Chickens kept in a coop in one of the many gardens provide our eggs and meat.

Save for bookshelves and a bed, my bedroom is empty. My grandpa even sleeps outside on a bed under a net near the kitchen area. Neighbors’ property blends into ours, just as their family blends into our family. Our neighbor’s loud laughter can’t be ignored as she calls me over to help cook, but at least she knows to speak clearly when speaking to me. Grandma, being half my height, brings me a bowl of fresh papaya and I’m grateful we can communicate through the universal need for food, because I cannot yet understand much of her dialect.

My assigned Peace Corps site is nurturing in its slow pace and challenging in its constant stimulation. Two of the schools I’ll be working with are about 20Km away from each other, separated by mountains and culture. Up there you can’t see much either, the smoke chokes out its immensity. But the view will be revealed with the winter rains. The people who live there are a highland ethnic minority with a different language and culture, they dress differently, and live in homes on stilts teetering over the hillside. It’s summer break for schools now, which is good for my settling-in process and establishment in this intimate community. So far I don’t really have much choice where I go or what I do. Partly because I don’t understand and partly because I know nothing about Maw Waen. My counterpart (co-worker) has been generous enough to take me everywhere, but for the first two days all I wanted to do was sleep and be with my thoughts. So I found the constant “go” to be inconsiderate. When will my independence be established and respected? It’s hard to give something up that’s so much a part of my identity. The first night we arrived late so I spent the night at my supervisor’s house, who also helped drive me up to Mae Waen. The next day when I packed to leave, my supervisor’s wife insisted I stay at their house to rest and have my weekend. I didn’t want to because I wanted to get settled into my new host family, so I basically had to fight for her to let me leave. I didn't understand why she thought her desire for what I did was more important than mine. And I don’t like that everywhere I turn someone is telling me to “baah” without telling me where we’re going, or we stay out past my bedtime, or everyone asks if I can teach them and their drunk uncle English then they create that schedule for me.  They make fun of me for eating too much or yell at me for not eating enough. I just want to sit and be left alone with my thoughts for 24 hours. And it's honestly good that Im not left because this loss of independence I couldn’t do without. My supervisor’s wife wanted me to stay at her house for three days because she said she’d miss me, after I only talked with her over a single meal. Holy instant affection! And I need to be carted around and stay out with people, because if not then I’ll never learn how to make Thai friends or even speak the language. When I don’t know what’s going on or don’t know what do to, following my counterpart into a car is the best thing I can do.  They are showing that they care and they are helping me do my job by helping me understand who they are.    

I have this new family to thank for everything, because they take me places, they feed me, they show me around, they bring me patience wrapped in cloth, and sticky rice to fill my stomach. I know that I probably could not be trusted on my own these first months. I couldn’t feed myself, I probably wouldn’t make friends, I don’t know how to get around, my fatigue would only be self feeding and I wouldn’t have a familiar smile to reassure me of normalcy. So really independence is dependent on circumstance and context, and I may never get it here the way I did in America but there will be a parallel. Still I am grateful that they are generous enough to include me and welcoming enough to make me go everywhere with their family. They truly have made me feel at home, and I am willing to give up a semblance of independence to really be with my new community.