Drinking Beer with a Jingjock

The American dream is to own a home, have a car, a family, buy all the things you can imagine and travel.  When I came here, I was only left with travel.  I started in Bangkok in Nee's two-story town house and then went north to Chiang Mai.  There we had a two-bedroom apartment overlooking a busy street, close to most anything you could want.  From there we went up and down Thailand as I looked for a job, never really knowing what I wanted.

I had done the same thing in the US for so long, I couldn't remember what I wanted to do when I grew up.  The work paid well, never worked me terribly hard, gave me good benefits and a vacation.  Yet, there was something that wasn't satisfying to me.  The easy way isn't always the best way.

Then a year ago, an agency wanted me to work in Fang, a small town north of Chiang Mai.  I had been there once and wasn't particularly excited.  Still, I needed a job and I found the school to be welcoming and comfortable.  I spent a year learning how to teach, to work with students who barely understood me and often ignored me.  I learned how to gain their attention without getting angry.  I found ways to get them excited about English and, over time, found they were beginning to like my class.  English is a required subject in Thailand and, like me with my past required subjects, is met with much resistance.

Through all that, I still didn't feel I had a home beyond my office and classroom.  I wanted a place I could sit on a front porch, listen to children play and catch the weird sound of the jingjock.  That happens to be a lizard here than makes a sound just like its name.  I thought it was some sort of odd car alarm the first time I heard it.

Tonight, I am sitting on my front porch, drinking a beer, sweating from pulling weeds in my garden.  We found a house a short distance from my school with most of the amenities I could get from a western home.  The walls are solid, the bathroom has hot water, the kitchen is inside and I get space.  I haven't done any real gardening for over a decade and today was like a tiptoe through the tulips.  I was so happy even though I hadn't really prepared.  I bought a Thai version of a hoe down on main street and rode home with it on my bike.  I didn't start until early afternoon because I had a tutoring class to give and then had to eat lunch.  The best time would have been soon after getting up so I will try to do that tomorrow, assuming my muscles aren't too sore.

Before

During

I am re-reading Bill Bryson's book, "I'm A Stranger Here," a series of articles he wrote about returning to live in America after living in England for many years.  I read it wondering if I will find myself in a similar situation whenever I happen to return to the US.  For now, though, I want to see if I can grow tomatoes and maybe make my own salsa.  Home is where you make it, not where you are.