More for Me

"More for you"

Americans are coddled meat-eaters. In a land apparently renowned for its steak eating (everyday someone asks me if I miss sa-take), we're pretty choosy about our meat. Skin, gristle, and blood are all discarded and only tolerated in hot dogs. If it's not chicken breast or a quality filet mignon, most Americans say, "give it to the dogs."

Thais feel very differently; their dogs don't get perfectly good pieces of pork skin. To a Thai, pork just tastes better if there's skin on it and the skin still has few stray hairs sticking out of it. Chicken fat is first scooped into my bowl of rice to make sure I get some, and then later scooped out to make sure it doesn't go to waste.

My spoiled American diet confuses my Thais. And the confusion goes both ways. The hummus I brought to our potluck lunch was not embraced. Cheese is looked down upon. And although salsa is almost exactly like Thai food, it is poo-pooed.

Though now we've reached a kind of understanding. If we're eating curry, I'll pick out most of the vegetables and a few skinless pieces of breast meat and everyone else will eat the marrow, liver, intestines, and- if there's fish- the head. People have given up on saving the prized chunks for me. They don't understand our culture's organ meat aversion but now they don't have to share.

Our stalemate might best be described by the  phrase I taught my office on hummus day, "More for me." The Tessaban ladies felt guilty for not liking hummus, "it doesn't taste good with rice." No shit. It's not supposed to go on rice. But I just smiled and explain why it's okay because now there's, "more for me."

The new expression has really caught on.  And it's meaning has expanded. Like today, Bob Dylan's 71st birthday, I played Desolation Row in the office. My friend Ning gave me a confused smile and said, "More for you."

This is Why You're Fat: Thailand Edition

Thais are deeply afraid of cheese. I can't mention the word without someone saying, "that's why you're fat, Nong El." And that may be why I'm fat but Why are you fat?You can't blame cheese. Cheese may help explain the obesity crisis in Wisconsin (though beer probably does a better job) but it doesn't explain why heart disease, diabetes, and obesity are on the rise in Thailand.

Could it be the four to five bowls full of white, fiber-less rice everyday?

This is why you're fat, Thailand.

Mi Strip Mall Es Su Strip Mall

Of the five or six qualifications for any building to be considered a house, my stall has about four of them. It makes the cut in the bedroom department ;)- meaning it has one- it also has a bathroom. And that's where it stops being a house. My stall, in a long row of stalls just like it, lacks a kitchen, furniture, and a real door. It's probably a better venue for selling pineapple than living in, but I like it.







I have an English-speaking neighbor. I live between two restaurants, competing for my loyalty with free sticky rice and wine coolers. Painfully slow wi-fi is included. My morning commute is down to 6 minutes.There's plenty of space to do yoga, if I ever decide that's something I want to do. My toilet is of the western variety. And one day soon I'll buy a stove so I can make tacos.
Home sweet strip mall.

Punny

Having too much time on my hands is a recurring theme in this blog. But the problem gotten worse not better since I left the world of number-crunching. When people ask me what I do in Thailand, I think they are surprised to learn how much of my time is dedicated to eating mangoes. But recently I've added punning to my schedule.
The time I used to spend writing song titles for my hypothetical band, Pat Buchanan and The Culture Warriors, I now devote to thinking up blog post titles and helping friends rename their blogs. Here are the reject blog names I spent hours on last week:

"Rice n' Shine"
"En-Thai-cing"
"WATchamacallit?"
"Thai-scream, You Scream"
"Good Thai-ming"
"Thai is of he Essence"
"Siamese if You Please"
"No Thai like the Present"
"Wai not?"
"Desperate Thais Call for Desperate Measures"
"So Much to Do, So Little Thai"*
"Thai it, You'll like it"
"Siammit!"
"Thai me a River"


*Note the irony

Hotel Toronto

"Hotel California" isn’t a very cool song anymore, but try telling the rest of the world that. In middle school my friend Alisa, told me her Russian immigrant father’s favorite song was "Hotel California." I think I mentioned this to my mom, she having been to an Eagles concert on a date one time, assured me it was not a very good song. My Dad told me he wasn’t allowed to listen to it at Bible school because it’s about the Devil.

Then I didn’t think much about the Eagles for a long time; until I studied abroad in Peru, where I learned that Germans like "Hotel California" even more than they like David Hasselhoff. In Lima I lived with two Germans, three French kids, and two Koreans who all thought the Eagles were America’s best export. And that our Peruvian friends who came over were inclined to agree.

Before I arrived in Thailand, I had no idea how much of my life would be karaoke. Thais love karaoke and I'm encouraged to participate in the etiquette-free display of self-indulgence as often as possible. Being well acquainted with karaoke rules of conduct stateside - where singing Free Bird or some song nobody knows is practically a criminal offense- I wanted to cater my song selection to my Thai audience. I had a hunch "Hotel California" just might be a hit. Incidentally, it was such a hit, I got a standing ovation and chance to sing, "My Heart Will Go On."

I’m actually listening to "Hotel California" right now, still trying to understand its foreign appeal. My best guess is that the melody line is easy to sing and California is the coolest place non-Americans can think of. In Thailand when I say I’m from the US people say, "oh do you live in California" and I say no I live in the north, “functionally, I live in Canada” And then no one cares. I guess that’s why there’s no internationally iconic karaoke ballad called, “Hotel Toronto.”

#Yumster

"Yumster!"

Most people who know me, also know of my ongoing quest to, “make yumster happen.” The word yumster was born while trying to find the perfect description for a deep-friend candybar, and was immediately shot down by everyone that loves and cares about me.

Everyone says, “(El)mily, yumster is so not happening.” But I think all the controversy surrounding yumster is proof that yumster is so happening. And thanks to my one man propaganda machine, yumster is now happening in at least three Midwestern states. And now…Thailand.

My Thai coworkers are like American slang sponges, eagerly sopping up any colloquialisms I may spill.  Here's a list of their vocabularly so far:

        “OMG!”

        “Let’s bang.”

        “I want a lady on the street, but a freak in the bed.”

        “Dog, you nasty!”

        And now, “Yumster!”

I had the perfect soap box from which to share my joyful yumster message when my friend and coworker, Ning asked me if Americans, when describing food say, “Delicious!” or “Yummy!” more often. I tried to mask my excitement with sincerity but I snickered and said, “Actually, most people say yumster.”

Ning tried it out, “Yumster! Is that what cool people say?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. You should definitely say it all the time.”

Miss Songkran 2555

 

Drenching old people is still
an important part of Songkran.

It's 101 degrees and the nationwide water fight is underway. It's Thai New Year, or Songkran, and the centuries-old tradition of washing the feet of elders has devolved into three plus days of water guns,whiskey,  dancing, and general tomfoolery.

Songkran, like almost any event in Thailand starts at the Wat. On the first day, it's almost pious as the younger generation lines up to pay respect to their elders and the Buddha. But it's just not a Thai festival until somebody cracks open a case of 70-proof Thai whiskey and passes out a communal bottle. And just like that the piety is gone. But don't judge too harshly, it's actually amazing that anyone can do shots when the temperature is in the triple digits, these people are to be admired.

Sprinkling water on Buddha's
image is considered good luck.

Everyone one of these seniors offered
up their grandon for me to marry.

The next day of Songkran, the religious pretense is gone. It's all about "len naam," literally playing water. Every kid in Thailand (and the occasional Peace Corps volunteer) stands on the side of the road and throw water at passing motorcycles. The temptation to use  water gun is there, but don't let the Super-Soaker suck you in,  a good old bucket is a lot more efficient. Occasionally some drives by and asks not to be dumped on, they are promptly ignored. But it leave me wondering why you wouldn't want to be sopping wet when it's so damn hot.

Watch out kids!

Some prefer to watch the madness from the shade.

In my tambon, community, the holiday winds down slowly- people are still throwing water three days later. But on the last official day of Songkran, all the neighboring communities gather for a parade up and down the main drag. For the procession the tambons dress up their most beautiful young women in traditional Thai garb. Because I'm a novelty, I was also dressed up. I felt a little guilty, the other women had earned their  titles of Miss Songkran, I just showed up one day with white skin and usurped all of the attention. 

Three or so minutes into the parade started it started pouring. The three hours every gay man in my village spent making me Miss Songkran was for not. But the pictures remain as proof that for two hours I was a Thai princess. And after the parade we dance and drank whiskey in the rain.

My coworker and I are dressed from the Lanna Period.
It took three hours for me to look like this.

30 seconds late it started to rain.