but today, i had a really good day. in fact, i could characterize most of my days as really good. but there's something about this day that made me realize that i miss sharing those mundane details of my life that, collectively, are a greater testament to my current situation than any transcendental story ever could be. so without further explanation, this is what's really up in my life...
i woke up at 6 something this morning in a coughing fit. unable to fall back asleep i hopped online and the first thing that caught my eye was an article proclaiming that, contrary to popular speculation, the world is not about to end. fast-forward a few clicks...and for the next hour i'm captivated by Orson Welles' The War of the Worlds. i close my computer, humored and cough-free. i fall back asleep for a few more hours, wake up, shower, have my favorite morning meal (corn rice porridge) and set off to my first class - a volunteer lesson with a group of people from myanmar. this is always a refreshing, uplifting class because these students have fled from their homes, left their families behind, and come to thailand to gain skills that they may, one day, take back to their countries to empower those left behind...unlike the majority of my students who are just rich brats whose parents want them to learn english for the sole purpose of getting into the best international schools or making more money for the family business.
after a great lesson, i headed to a volunteer meeting with an organization that i'm now working for...my newest job is to recruit teachers to serve in myanmar, a daunting but important responsibility that gives me a renewed sense of purpose here everyday.
following that meeting, i drove to the opposite end of the city on a near empty tank of gas (this detail will be important later) to a private teaching lesson. my student? one of the aforementioned privileged brats who mock my very existence as a teacher. i arrive to class, ready to teach the same dull grammar points i'm accustomed to, but to my surprise, she's holding a dr. seuss book and asks if we can take turns reading. we spend the next hour reading "the sneetches" stories...and by the end of the lesson we're sprawled out on beanbags leaning on one another's shoulders laughing, making funny sounds and voices to imitate the characters, and working on the pronunciation of many of dr. seuss many important make-believe words. by far the most brilliant lesson i've had with this stubborn little brat yet.
i leave the school, and on my way home, still on empty, i stop at the gas station, the workplace of my biggest, and only, crush. for all that thailand has blessed me with in the past year, it has failed to provide my with any leads in the love department. thus, i have been resigned to having fleeting crushes on various service workers: a 7-11 employee here, a food cart sous chef there, and now...a gas station attendant. our conversation, in what broken thai i'm capable of muttering, went a little like this:
me: hello
him: hello. what kind of gas?
me: 95 octane, please.
him: how much?
me: 100 baht.
him: so, have you had dinner yet? (contrary to what this might translate to in a western context, this is merely a polite greeting in thailand. he was not, unfortunately, asking me out to dinner.)
me: no. i'm very hungry. and you?
him: yes. i had rice.
me: thank you.
him: thank you.
at this point, his eyes light up in a manner that can only imply that he's smiling. unfortunately, because of the nature of his work, he must constantly wear a surgical mask so i never actually know if he's smiling, or for that matter, i don't actually know what his entire face looks like...but...i'm pretty sure it bears a smile when we chat. so i drive off and he waves, and with butterflies in my stomach, i forge ahead until the next time i'm low on 95 octane.
next i meet some friends for mexican and maragaritas...festive times as usual with great friends.
then two of my gay male friends and i head to a new gay bar/entertainment venue where we watch gay boys and transsexuals do stimulating renditions of Dreamgirls, Cher and, of course, Akon. for me the show was entertaining, but for them it renewed for them a sense that gay pride is alive in a town that is seemingly open to, but also skeptical of, queer lifestyles. and seeing them embracing and living this moment without fear of judgment or shame made me all the more happy to share the experience with them.
after the show i dropped my friend off and, on my way home, passed by a little bar that i'd only been to once but had impressed me more than any other bar in chiang mai because of the amazing live music and laid back atmosphere that many bars here fall short of actually maintaining. i rarely go places alone, especially bars, but as i drove by, the owner of the bar waved at me so i decided to pop in for a nightcap. as i approached the door, there was a man who i'd never seen before sitting behind the sound booth strumming a guitar, yelling in thai to the delight of the 50 or so patrons. as i step up from the sidewalk into the bar he points to me and instructs me to join him in the sound booth. i quickly grab a seat in an effort to avoid the attention and embarrassment of a public display. unfortunately being one of maybe 3 black girls permanently residing in chiang mai, everyone thinks that i'm a soul or r&b singer, so i was forced into the booth by a mob of excited thai strangers in need of a good tune. but for anyone who knows me, you know that my inability to carry a tune is my ultimate downfall, and my retention of popular song lyrics is even moreso. but against my will i enter the booth. i try to explain to the guy that i can't sing and don't know any songs, but he says the chocolate lady must just be acting shy, so he starts playing a melody. to my surprise, he's playing "The Show", by Lenka, a song i only know because my annoyingly bratty student i mentioned earlier is obsessed with that song and insists that we start every class with a sing-a-long of it. over the months i'd grown to hate the song because of its redundancy and cutesiness being drilled into my head day in and day out. but tonight, this song saved my life. with confidence i belted out the song on the mic to a raucous response from the crowd, which thankfully masked my sporadic tone deafness. i then sat down with the owner of the bar, chatted for a while about his new business ventures, and did a few magic tricks with him.
as i drove home, i reflected on the events of the day and couldn't help but smile about my life here. as boring, mundane, or uneventful as it may be to some, i think i've carved out a good space for myself in this place, and it's days like this which make it hard to think about uprooting. big or small, profound or not, it's always a good day and a good life here.
