Unfamiliarly Familiar

After over three weeks of luxuriously relaxing on the southern beaches of Thailand, it was time to visit the organized chaos of another greatest hit -- Bangkok!  It was my first time back to this buzzing city since my brief stint teaching and touring four years ago, and I was looking forward to checking out my old haunts (and eating as much food as possible in the process).

From the familiar feeling of disembarking an overnight train and entering the public gallery of Hua Lamphong train station, it felt great to be back.  Great but weird.  For the duration of my visit to BKK, I felt like a stranger in a land that was not strange to me at all.  You know the feeling of a word or name being ‘on the tip of your tongue”?  I felt like that’s where the entire city of Bangkok was resting -- on the tip of my tongue.  My surroundings were familiar – the public transport map, the walk from the river to Khao San Road, the delicious food on the street carts – but I couldn’t quite connect the dots.  My brain was churning hard, trying to conjure memories that related to these sites with which I felt some vague nostalgic resonance.  Perhaps more practically, it was churning hard trying to remember how to get from place to place.  I wanted to call on some imaginary witness to my life and ask, “umm, can you please tell me what this corner means to me?  And, how do I get to Central World on the BTS?”    

One of the areas I was most looking forward to visiting was my old neighborhood.  For anyone who wants to get on the old googlemapper, I lived on an alley/small street (which they call a ‘soi’ in Thailand) off of         the main road between Bang Pho and Bang Sue (please insert slightly dirty joke here).   As I got off the subway, I was nervous that I would not remember my way, but it came back to me like muscle memory.  Once I began walking down my old main road, though, I felt quite confused.  “Was this always this way?  I thought there used to be some old school wood structures over here…”  I was hardcore second guessing myself.  Then, I realized that there was MASSIVE construction everywhere around me for a new line of the skytrain – the future purple line.  At least I had a concrete reason for being disoriented in this situation – my neighborhood was in the midst of a cosmetic makeover.  As I walked around, marveling at the changes and seeing traces of storefronts, carts, and karaoke bars I recognized, I kept thinking about how the whole scene seemed like a reflection of what was going on in my brain.  It was as though a big skytrain had been constructed in my mind amongst my Bangkok memories.  It felt like all of the knowledge and memories were in there somewhere, but many of them had been deemed obsolete and the rest were blocked by the new construction-y stuff.  Interestingly, the one thing that I remembered with greatest clarity was my little soi, and there was no mental or physical skytrain there (though, in both the literal and metaphorical sense, it appears that there will train tracks up in a matter of months).     

As I carried on with my walk to visit to my former workplace – Yothinburana School – the mental skytrain effect continued, and it became apparent that other people have their own brain train issues to deal with as well.  I passed through the gate, trying to explain to the security guard why this random white girl was walking into the school grounds.  He, obviously, had zero memory of me.  Then, I entered the English Program office, finding familiar faces whose names escaped me and familiar faces whose names I knew very well but who had no idea who the hell I was.   Other than two specific former colleagues, I didn’t actually expect anyone else to remember me.  Therefore, I thought it best to ask to simply ask to see these connections rather boldly announce my return, asserting some self-importance about my visit.  This, of course, turned out to be awkward, particularly when I was shuffled over to the director of the program.  She clearly had no idea who I was but also clearly took offense to the fact that I did not ask first to see her.  I managed to smooth things over by throwing up a few wais.  And, it seemed that all of the familiar faces did sort of recall me after I mentioned my formerly dreadlocked hair. 

Without indulging in too much Anna Skinner drama-queen-ness, I must say that this lack of connection with a formerly significant space and its people put me in a bit of an existential quandary.  My most typical line of existential questioning went as follows:  “Did I not leave even the faintest footprint on this city?  Have I ever left a footprint in any city?  Have I ever left a footprint on anything, anywhere, ever?  Does anyone ever leave a footprint?  What is the point of a footprint?  Does a footprint even exist?  What is the point of anything, anywhere, ever, anyways?”

Since my initial existential self-interrogation, I have regained a bit of perspective.  I only actually lived in Bangkok for four and a half months.  With my TEFL course and my travels, we are looking at a maximum of seven months in Thailand.  That is a remarkably short span of time.  Perhaps more significant than the length of time I spent there is the fact that Bangkok was never my place.  I made some lovely friends, and I had a rowdy, fun time there.  I appreciate the city for all of its madness and amazing food and cheap massages, but I never had a soul connection to the place.  So, um, duh -- of course there will be no bloody Anna Skinner footprint!  Cement footprints (like the ones on the driveway of my neighbors, the Bartamaluccis…I was always very jealous of their permanent prints on their property) require a serious investment of time and a stirring of the soul.  Let’s be honest -- my track record with time investment in any location in my adult life is extremely poor.  And, no offense to Bangkok, but there are other places in the world that have taken hold of my heart in a manner that it never could.   

All in all, it was more great than weird to be back in Bangkok.  I still love the city. I love it for everything it has been to me and everything it has not.  It’s OK that it did not take on my footprint.  It makes me feel a bit rejected, but I really don’t think I wanted to give it my footprint anyways.  I’ve got other footprints to cement…

Kudos and Bofo: A Love Story

Two of my dear friends just got married this past weekend in Arequipa.  I had a front row seat for the evolution of their relationship, often coaching both teams.   It’s like I’ve been with them up to the finals, but I won’t be able to participate in the championship game.  This, obviously, is the source of great disappointment (particularly when you add in the awesome opportunity this would have been to dance salsa)! 

In an attempt at being involved in their special day from afar (and in lieu of a wedding gift), I would like to share with you the story of this wonderful couple…

I met Elly ‘Kudos’ Kondos and Adolfo ‘Bofo’ Salas within my first 24 hours in Arequipa.  The first time I laid eyes on them, Adolfo was in the middle of a Spanish lesson with his most challenging student, Elly.  I was new to the Traveller Not Tourist world, and after I saw the two of them reviewing worksheets at the dining table of the volunteer house, I enquired with someone in the kitchen if all lessons took place there.  It was explained that this was a normal occurrence for instructor Adolfo, but then the informant conspiratorially implied that there might have been a little something more to that particular Spanish lesson ‘if you know what I mean’.  

My thought:  well, they do say that you learn the best on the pillow.

I soon found out from the horses’ mouths that there was indeed more to that Spanish lesson (though, I don’t think there has ever been enough pillow talk because Kudos still can’t speak Spanish).  The gossip about the budding relationship was one of the forces that led to the development of my strong friendships with Kudos and Adolfo. Elly would tell me all about her feelings on the relationship during lunch or a school shopping mission.  Then, she would go off to volunteer and Adolfo would come to the office to teach Spanish lessons and tell me all about his emotional status, asking for some insight from me, the Western female spokeswoman. 

Adolfo was totally enamored with Elly from the moment he met her.  He was taken with every last thing about her, from her silly sense of humor to her outrageous slurring drunken moments.  He thought everything about her was beautiful.  He wanted to be around her all the time, and he wanted her to let him adore her. 

Elly, however, took some convincing.  Adolfo was so clearly one of the best men in the whole wide world.  There was never any doubt about that.  Kudos, however, had come to Peru on a solo mission, and she felt that this was her time to be single.  She didn’t think she wanted anything serious.  Adolfo was persistent, though, and slowly Elly started to break her walls down.  After a few months, they found themselves in a healthy, committed relationship.

As Elly’s return to Australia approached, they started having those tough conversations about what happens next.  They were determining what a long distance relationship would look like and how in the world Adolfo would move to Australia within the next 12 months.  Meanwhile, Elly was spending her free time repeating the phrase “the rest of my life”, considering if she liked it associated with Adolfo…because what would be the point of all of this tough relationship logistical maneuvering if it wasn’t going to work out in the long run?

Then something divine happened that answered all of their questions.  Elly found out she was pregnant.

On this fateful day, Elly had gone to the clinic on her own for the first time during her many months in Peru.  Every other trip she had made (of which there were quite a few – Arequipa seemed to have really done a job on her body over those months) had been chaperoned.  This time she was sure she had it handled.  It was supposed to be just a few tests administered by nurses, and she wouldn’t be talking to a doctor or anyone who would be explaining anything of importance. So, there she was, laying on an examining table, understanding very little Spanish, when a nurse pointed to her abdomen and said, “Tu!  Bebe!”  She then handed Elly an ultrasound photo of what looked like a little bean and sent her on her way.

Then she called me.  I think I answered the phone by saying something I thought was flippantly humorous.  She responded by simply saying, “I’m pregnant.”  I screamed, jumped out of my chair, determined her location, made a really stupid excuse for my outburst and sudden need to leave the office (perk of work at TNT), and literally ran to Espiritu Santo clinic.  Elly was sitting on the curb outside, ultrasound photo in hand.  If there is one thing I have come to excel at since my days in Namibia, it is crisis/disaster/trauma management.  So, I told Elly we were going back in that clinic and talking to an English-speaking doctor.  We sat in the crazy waiting room of that clinic, our conversation vacillating between making light of the situation and discussing the gravity of the reality.  Finally, the doctor called us in and he confirmed that she was indeed pregnant.  He answered Elly’s questions (though not in a totally satisfactory manner), told her the date she should next seek a consultation, and again sent her on her way.

As an aside:  To take my involvement in their relationship to another level, in the ‘making light of the situation’ phase, we did the math and determined that this baby was conceived when I was out of town on holiday.  You see, Elly and I were reliving the freshman year dream – we shared a bedroom in the volunteer house.  When the cat is away, the mice will (more freely) play… 

Elly and Adolfo’s story is one of those really clear examples of how having a child totally changes your life.  Suddenly, there was absolute certainty about their commitment to each other.  Adolfo was on the fast track to arranging his arrival to Australia, and Elly moved her flight home up, cancelling the other stops she had scheduled on her way.  In a matter of days, so much had changed. 

Often these stories of marriage ‘out of wedlock’ seem forced and a tad unfortunate.  I don’t see Elly and Adolfo’s story that way at all.  In fact, I find that the unanticipated entrance of that little baby increases the romance of their story.  All of the uncertainty, it seemed to me, was due to the existence of so many obstacles and challenges that go along with an international relationship.  The previous questioning was about fear, not incompatibility.  This outcome of marriage would have occurred, with or without an unplanned pregnancy.  It was just that lovely little baby Amaia more easily guided them down commitment road, quelling some of the concerns (and creating a whole fresh set).  The beauty with which they have faced all of the tough stuff that has gone along with very quickly transforming their lives, in my eyes, is about as romantic as you can get.

For a moment, let me speak in the New Age language that first opened the door to my friendship with Elly.  I am of the opinion that coincidences hold significance.  I feel that there is a sort of divine order to each of our lives.  And, I feel that the things that are locked deepest in our hearts are what become our reality.  So, it was no coincidence that Adolfo was assigned as Elly’s Spanish teacher.  The timing of Amaia’s entry into the world had a very particular purpose in the timelines of their lives.  And, whether they were conscious of it or not, they manifested the shit out of this beautiful wedding that has just passed. 

I see that Elly and Adolfo accentuate each others' ability to enjoy life’s simple pleasures.  I see that they make each other happy in ways that neither of them expected.  I see in their relationship a real commitment to commitment.  I see deep respect for each other.  I see patience and acceptance.  I see rising to life’s challenges.   I see two very special people creating a very special union.  I feel honored to know them, honored to have witnessed the evolution of such a special relationship, and I look forward to witnessing all of the beauty that is ‘the rest of their lives’.