So, that happened

I climbed into the almost-full truck-bus, and two tiny Thai girls scooted apart to give me a seat. I looked at that 11 inches of bench, and thought, “Maybe I can perch.”

I started to sit down, and then bounced back up saying quickly, “Mai, mai, mai – it’s okay, okay, mai-pen-rai.” [No, no, no – it’s okay, don’t worry].

The ladies stared at me, pointing back to the seat again – somehow my American-sized rear had not registered with them. I told them again, “No worries. It’s okay,” and found a handhold.

Then a high school student stood up, and gave the American-sized-rear HIS seat. Combined with the previous 11″ offered to me, I fit. Almost comfortably, with a lovely blush to highlight the American-sized awkwardness I had created.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweet VICTORY!

A new intern started at work this week, and it’s been quite the entertaining situation. She’s Thai, but hasn’t lived in Thailand for 10 years. I’m sure you can imagine the stumbles we get ourselves into as she tries to tell me about Thai culture/travel/comforts, etc – and I explain what’s been happening more recently.

Yesterday she offered to drive me to the subway station since she was parking there and riding across town. Nearing the station, she drove by the on-ramp to the parking garage, and a block later asked me when we would see the station.

“Well, we’ll have to turn left here, and immediately left again, then circle around the block and back so you can take the cross-over to the garage.”

Once in the garage, I explained where the elevator was located. Inside the elevator, “So, we go to floor 1, right?”

Basement, actually.

At the ticket machine, i stood to the side until her exasperated exclamations caught my attention, “I cannot find my station! I will put it in English, it’s not on the the screen – where do I go?!”

“Oh,  that’s the name  for the line if you’re transfering. You actually go to XY station, and then go upstairs and through to the mall, it’s attached. You’ll pay 29 baht.”

“Really? When did you come here?!”

I’m such a Bangkokian now:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I looked at apartments and thought about moving out – for the time, for the exhaustion of travel, for the convenience of coming home late.

Then I realized, living with my Thai family – is amazing. Traveling so far every single day of the week, is awful, annoying and bothersome. Coming home to a quiet room, with people who care and help if needed, to a kitchen where I can make my own tea {the typical Thai apartment is a studio apartment, sans the kitchenette}, a laundry machine at my disposal, people to chat with, and privacy – that is a relief, convenient and my saving grace.

I’m staying put, and I cannot express the relief that making that decision brought me.

I’m staying put, because being with family is better than being isolated and uncomfortable. I’m staying put, and that’s so Thai.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I skyped with my 3 year-old niece. She finally realizes that I’m not in El Salvador. Or at an airport watching a movie, and vaguely understands that Thailand is another place she has never been.

“Meggie, meggie, meggie, meggie – should we come visit you at Thailand?”

“Yes, you should ask your dad.”

“Okay, I will ask my dad if we can come visit you at Thailand.”

We’ll see how THAT goes over. haha!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got on the wrong bus the other day (going in the right direction, wrong number). I swear I asked the guy that’s hired to harry people onto the buses if it was #6, and he said yes. This man lied.

So, I got on the wrong bus, for the second time this week. Figured it out in a hurry, and got off.

I crossed the street and waited for the right bus, which didn’t come. But a girl waiting for the bus got into an argument with a man (her boyfriend, maybe?), on a motoscooter, and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

So, I got on the next bus that came – which goes close-ish to my home, but not that close, really.

So, I  got off that bus at the end of the line, and started walking toward my house. By this time, it was dark and raining a bit.

So, the original #6 came by, and I got on that one, right up to my street.

Which means, I took 3 buses and 45 minutes for my 20 minute last-leg of the trip home.

Brilliant, I tell you.

 

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