When I first left for Thailand, I imagined myself coming back two weeks later completely invigorated, bursting with exciting stories that I would rush to my computer to write out while they were still vivid in my mind. I saw myself falling completely in love with Thailand and its culture and its language all over again, beyond the point of no return, ready to dedicate myself to its mastery like never before. I was sure Thailand would be everything people had always told me it was, everything I had dreamed it would be.
But the reality was very different. By the end of the trip, I felt like I couldn't get out of Thailand fast enough. I rushed home not because I couldn't wait to start blogging, but simply because I couldn't wait to sleep in my own bed. I dreaded the hour when I'd eventually have to sit here at this keyboard. It's not that there's nothing to write about-- there are many things to write about, naturally. But they are very different from what I expected, and I've put off writing about them until now because I didn't want to face them. I've also been sick with a terrible cold and stomach problems (I guess my stomach couldn't quite take the food in Thailand) ever since I got back, but that's more of an excuse than anything.
The trip certainly started out well enough. The six hour flight, on the Japanese airline ANA, was really quite pleasant. The in-flight announcements were broadcast in Japanese, heavily Japanese-accented English, and Thai. I was pleased to find that I could understand more of the Thai than I could of the English (seriously). I was also very happy that the flight attendant didn't speak English to me-- she addressed me in Japanese when she saw I was reading a Japanese book (a guide to Bangkok, which I was happily engrossed in for much of the flight). Towards the end, I pulled the Thai version of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" out of my bag and studied it with a very satisfying gusto for a good two hours, managing not to care one bit what the Japanese guy next to me thought of it. Every once in a while I stopped to gaze out the window and saw some very nice scenery, especially when we flew over Okinawa.
When we finally arrived at the airport, I was getting really excited to finally get a chance to use my Thai. My eyes darted around reading all the Thai signs, my ears alert for any signs of the language being spoken. Almost everyone around me, though, was foreign. My first disappointment on arriving in Thailand was the experience of waiting to go through customs in an endless sea of foreign tourists. There were people from all over, and it
was interesting-- around me I heard German, French, Japanese, and some form of Chinese. But as far as I could see in all directions, everyone was waiting behind one of the signs that said "foreign passport". They were all standing there with their backpacks and their cameras and their overdone suntans, like a small army ready to take over the whole country. I knew Thailand was a popular tourist destination, but this was overwhelming. Around me, there was not
one single Thai person. I wondered how much of "Thailand" would be left after this wave of quintessential un-Thainess was done crashing through it.
Unfortunately this unpleasant first impression turned out to be a theme that continued to rear its ugly head throughout my time in Thailand. Much of that time was spent, often unsuccessfully, trying to escape it. Trying to dig my way through the thick sludge of tourism that lay on the surface, and to find the "real" Thailand. Once in a while I caught glimpses of it, reached out to grab it, and almost,
almost grasped a bit of it and made it my own. But I never quite got there. I didn't have enough time, I didn't have enough resources, and the sludge was just too thick. And I think this is what lies at the heart of my disillusionment.
It wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't already invested so much of myself in this country. If I hadn't spent the past year and a half (albeit on and off) studying Thai-- if this language hadn't been my joy and my comfort and my escape for so long-- I could have just shrugged my shoulders and said "It's a nice country, but the overload of tourists kind of ruined it. Oh well. I'll just choose a less hyped-up place for my next vacation." But I couldn't. I had sold a piece of my soul to this place. It was like falling in love with someone only to come to the realization, much too late, that they just don't love you back. It was painful.
For me, traveling is not about taking nice photos. (Incidentally, my camera broke a few days into the trip, and most of the few photos I did manage to take are crap. The above picture was taken with my cell phone.) It's not about "seeing the sights". (Sure, I do enjoy visiting tourist attractions once in a while, as some of them really are impressive. But they are far from the most important part of a trip.) It's not about sampling exotic food (though Thai food
is delicious), or relaxing on a pristine beach. (I didn't even go to the beach on this trip actually, though I did want to. But again, it wasn't important.) For me, traveling to another country-- especially a country whose language I've studied-- is about getting to know its culture, experiencing life first-hand through the eyes of its people, and hopefully finding the best parts of it and making them my own. For me, being completely lost in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire on my rented bicycle and getting directions from the lady selling instant coffee on the side of the road, who called her husband over to put air in my tire (yes, that really happened!), was a far more valuable experience than any guided tour on an air-conditioned bus. Such experiences are what I thrive on, but in Thailand they were few and far between. Part of it was due to the pervasiveness of the tourism industry, and part of it was due to my own weakness in not being bold enough to break through. Somewhere inside I'm afraid it's mostly the latter, but maybe you can help me decide.
Part of me wants to keep avoiding it, but I know I have to get this out of my system. I have to share my experience, just the way it was. It wasn't all bad, after all-- there were some very good moments. Maybe if I write them all out, I can get myself to believe that the real Thailand is still in there, somewhere. And that it really would be a place worth getting to.
You'll have to be patient with me, but I'm going to wrench it all out of myself over the next few days. I'm grateful to anyone who cares to come along.
