Yaai One

Time (stick with me). There is no time here, not in this particular household. Not that there's a shortage of time but rather it does not constantly demand to be noted. It is not marked by the counting down of a hand or an iPhone but instead it passes in blissful neglect. It's goings marked by routine rather than hours, accepted more than fought. We're eating so it must be noon. Elizabeth is here so it must be 7 o'clock. It's getting hotter so it must be late afternoon. This way of time telling seems grounded so much more in reality than how I grew up with it. It's 7am so you should be dressed by now. It's 6pm we should be eating. It's 4pm you should be done with work by now. There's no wiggle room and it just adds to stress, takes away from family and friends, or lays on constraints. I'm sure there's an industrial revolution explanation for our reliance on clocks and how it completely changed how we live our lives for the better of  Western civilization, but honestly no amount of machinery is going to alter the rhythm of being human. No electric unicycle, no apple watch, no algorithm is going to change the natural pace at which my heart beats, the time it takes for my brain to process light into images, or how long it takes for air to pass over my vocal chords to produce words. Numbers in a circle do not matter as much as giving my new Thai family the dignity of not blaming the clock for needing to leave the fun we're having together. Although, being in Peace Corps, learning how to demand respect for your time is a valuable lesson. But I save the loose time for my favorite people--specifically this single family down my street. I first met them when I moved into my rental house. They own the convenience store down the street so I would go every night to buy dinner, then eventually they invited me to eat with them. It took a while to get used to allowing things to progress naturally with them rather than to cut our interactions off at the sound of a timer. And maybe I appreciate this particular family because we have gotten to a point where I was comfortable enough to forget the clock. A lot of times while in meetings and day-long ceremonies I forget that time technically passes at the same rate and not at a glacial pace. Sometimes time even repeats itself because of how frequently I have to tell the same darn people I'm from America and I'll be here for a full two years and yes in fact I will be teaching your child English in school. One of the biggest abstract struggles I've faced during my service is to allow things to happen naturally, and thankfully this family has made it easier.
 Yaai One's (my favorite Thai grandmother's nickname) kindness and touch reminds me of visiting aunts and uncles growing up--hugs and head pats and a bit of excitement. Even though I visit Yaai One and company every day, I walk in is as though I haven't been there in months by making a grand entrance and high five-ing everyone. And when I leave every night after dinner to walk my 500 yards home, Yaai One clings onto me, begging me to stay 10 more minutes. I want to love like her when I grow up. Honestly that extra 10 minutes is nothing if I get to snuggle her more! No matter what my mood that day, after having Yaai One love my loneliness smooth, Pii Leun sing me an original song about how I love sticky rice, or Pii Binyaa make digs at me without breaking a smile, I feel reset and truly like I had been playing this game for years. When we're done eating, I have to convince Yaai One that I'm full, endure Pii Binyaa judging me for eating little and then loving me for being the weirdo who has to blow her nose after eating spicy food, I tear myself away and assure them that I will see them tomorrow. Again, we're going to let time reflect reality rather than contort reality to time. So what if I didn't grow up here? They treat me like I'm an expected part of their day and vice versa. They value me for my identity and ask questions to understand me better. They know I'm different but don't make me feel it in every moment. I love them for it all. When friends visit, I can rely on Yaai One's family to help us get around. And they go beyond meeting our need for mobility, feeding us exuberantly and trying as hard as they can to get to know the new visitors, even when they don't share a common language. In order to repay them for their breadth of generosity, I have to dig deep into myself (gift giving is not one of my love languages). Giving them rice doesn't work; they own rice fields. Giving noodles or vegetables or sauces doesn't work either; they own large gardens and a convenience store. So I give the pieces of myself I can: a purse I crocheted, a little painting, or a simple coffee maker and some real coffee beans. With our entangled daily lives, I can't just repay them monetarily, they didn't accept it the times I've tried. So I am lucky to be called to go deeper to try to show them just how much they've enriched my life.


(From left to right: Nong Hop, Yaai One in background, Pii Binya, Pii Dan, Pii Leun)

Yaai One: My favorite grandma: purveyor of butt pats and connoisseur of caring methods. Ultimate love machine. likes to eat weird things like frog heads and spikey shrimp legs.
Pii Binyaa: Straight-faced joke-cracker. Scientist of sarcasm, and her hypothesis is always correct.
Pii Leun: If he's not singing an original song, he's dancing like a pre-teen or talking about how much he loves his bound-for-college cousin, Nong Hop. He has two modes: absolute seriousness or absolute folly.
Pii Dan: Sort of in the background but gets it done. Always a unique experience interacting with him, kind of like a box of chocolates.
Nong Hop: A mild-mannered kid who is quite responsible and always has the answers for his technologically-challenged counterparts. He loves the "slow life" and is a top notch chiller.
Grandpa: Also doesn't speak much but when he does it's with the biggest smile. Conversations are devoid of the Thai I was taught and full of the dialect I should know by now. If he were in the picture above, he'd be sitting there without a shirt and a slight smile stuck to his face.


(Above: Yaai One with my visiting friend Veronica) 

Comments

  1. Dear Yaai One, Thank you for loving my daughter. You are the angel that has answered a mother's prayers for Elizabeth to be safe in a foreign land as she walks this journey of life to fulfill her calling to live and love unconditionally as she helps those around her. MOM

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