Chayo, Farang

“Have you found home yet?” one of my uncles asked me before I left Thailand. I laughed because this was such a pertinent question, one that wanderers must mull over individually because he knew nothing of this blog or my pondering of that very issue. I told him I didn’t know, which is true. I am more convinced than ever of “home” being a process rather than a place. Even just writing this blog post has taken me a few weeks.

I realized something in Bangkok, when I was weaving my way through the crowds: I walk differently. This may sound odd. But I’ve noticed that living the last year in Philadelphia has taught me to walk with a bit more confidence. I don’t apologize (so much) for taking up space. At the same time, I noticed myself slipping back into particular ways of moving that I haven’t used in a long time, buried habits that feel very comfortable in some ways. Being back here has made me think about being a foreigner.

Growing up in Thailand was not particularly easy. Everything, it sometimes felt, conspired to remind us that we were aliens and we didn’t belong. We couldn’t drink the water. We had to leave the country several times a year to renew our visas; always stressful especially since there was the chance they might not renew us this time. We couldn’t buy clothes or shoes because we were so much taller than the general population. And one of my earliest memories of Asia is of the time an aunty pulled me aside to tell me emphatically that I should stay out of the sun because I would get CANCER (and presumably die).

I always knew Thailand was impermanent.

When I returned to the United States for college, I still felt like a foreigner. True, I could now buy clothes and shoes to my heart’s content (as my closet will testify). I could put my passport away for most of the year (which I simply hated). My skin color did not immediately mark me as “Other” and this was a huge, huge shock. Especially when I felt so different.

And the States felt like a prison because it was where I “belonged.”

This trip back to Thailand helped me put a lot of those things to rest. I wanted to know if I could continue to return there because I want to, and not out of an inconsolable longing for a place that could never be mine. For years I feared the final dreadful goodbye that would mean Thailand was lost to me forever. I thought that would be when my parents move back to the States, but now I think that goodbye happened a long time ago. And that is actually a huge relief.

It may seem strange, but I feel like I found both Thailand AND the States on this trip. After I told him I didn’t know if I would ever find a home, my uncle asked me where I was going back to in the States. I felt SO happy to tell him. (Seriously, it’s wonderful to be excited to go back. Also, the heres and theres get extremely complicated and I confuse even myself.) When I saw the Philadelphia skyline on Thursday I got such a huge grin on my face.

When people here tell me, “welcome home,” I don’t feel the need to correct them. This has become a home. I think this trip helped me realize that Thailand was the home that was given to me, and Philly is the home I’m building for myself.

So, did I accomplish what I set out to do during my month in my Thailand home? Well… I ate a lot and bought a lot… (Seriously, I had to bring back another suitcase! In my own defense, a lot of what I bought was research related, I swear!) I feel like I learned so much and reconnected with so much. I hoped this would help me come to a specific thesis topic, but instead I feel like I will never be able to narrow everything down! There’s also this feeling that no matter what I decide on, I will never be able to do my topic justice, or Thailand justice. (Or myself justice?)

In conclusion, the process continues.

(Chayo, farang, chayo. I will carry on.)