Rootless Plant

HHH hike on Christmas

Each Anusara yoga class follows a theme. The theme of this post might not follow that recipe given the circuitous nature of my thinking and my dodgy relationship with yoga lately, but a theme, will present itself in the end…maybe the very end of my life, but somehow, somewhere a theme will emerge. Some of the details of my routine have changed lately and these subtle changes leave me feeling a bit ungrounded. I’m eating less, sleeping less and drifting a bit more into the darker hours of the night.  Having said that, I realize romance is a thread I follow closely and I am still having a love affair with my life here in all its forms.

On Saturdays I hike with a group of folks (mostly expats) who follow the doctrine of the Hash House Harriers. On Koh Samui they enjoy (perhaps self-titled) the assignation “a drinking group with a hiking problem.” I go for the hikes. Not the drinking. It’s a great way to see the island. I stand on the end of my road with a simple sign that reads “HHH” and I have been picked up every Saturday, with the exception of one, and taken to the hash site without fail. The hikes are 1-1.5 hours long, take us into the jungle and along the most isolated beaches sometimes and are the highlight of my weekend.

This Saturday was the annual party and at 1,000 Baht (about 30 dollars) I declined the invitation to attend and was relayed the message from a parent at school (because I have no cell phone) “your fee has been paid, your ride will pick you up at 2:00 PM.” I had and inkling of who paid this fee, but in all honesty, it mattered not a bit to me who had paid, though I did feel somewhat compelled to be a polite and  entertaining guest/date. I was picked up by a well-traveled, retired Hasher from England. He wanted to show me a bit of his “world” which I understand. I am moved by the same compunction when people visit me, but, to me at least, the charm of my life is not synonymous to his, even though the houses of his lot are more posh and better-situated than mine. By the end of the night, it made me long for my corner noodle shop and sleeping on the beach on a large throw depicting Ganesha bought back from India from Nichola as a gift when she visited.

The hike was good. Long and hot. We trekked through the jungle and ended on a vast beach in a town in the south called Hua Tanon. There was a pit stop too and I opted for wild turkey and since I had not eaten much food, circle (the chatty bit at the end) was even fun, or at least it was fun to take the piss out of the whole thing by goofing around with my new found friends (some had not even recalled meeting me before) enough to get squirted numerous times by the Hash Nazi Sandra with a large water pistol. I didn’t care, I had already been in the tallay (sea) as was soaking wet. I put a dress over my hiking clothes (also from Nichola) and was ready to eat and dance. The meal was okay. I prefer when Thai don’t try to accommodate western palettes, but there was a lovely green curry. I discovered that these old guys were also good “old school” dancers and I like that. Some of the hikers from France also played fantastic sounds from the 30s and 40s. But by the end of the night, I was hanging out with the resort (Thai) kitchen staff, taking beers out of our (Hash) coolers for them and speaking in broken Thai.

I love the Thai. Their lifestyle, their understated manner, their jokes, their food and their humorous incredulousness at western behaviour.  I feel more in sync with them even though time issues often drive me to distraction in a greater way than I am willing to accept in myself. So, I even try to find peace with the degree of time it takes to get things done or moving.  I am undoubtedly western in many ways and I enjoy many perks as a result. I had a conversation last evening with a woman who has been living here for 4 years and has a Thai boyfriend. I enjoyed her insights, but felt that some nuances were missing from her rendition of Thai people and ways. It isn’t an objective truth about them I seek, after all, its the experience of getting to know first-hand how they live and think. The Thai are not simple, but they have a simple face that they show you initially. The have 5 smiles that take time to read and I am getting to know what they mean when they smile. Above all, the greatest confusion arises for me from their “not wanting to disappoint” you stance. I would prefer that just say NO sometimes.  But for me, no, is my initial response unless I’m all there “heart and soul” and maybe there is a lesson for me there too.

So “heart and soul” I live here somewhat akin to a rootless plant, adapting without the necessity of rooting too deeply into a place (sometimes its a symbiotic parasitic relationship, I admit). I prefer the people I encounter each day at school–my coworkers and the students, the people I meet on my walks who provide services and those I meet serendipitously. After Nadene and Nichola left, I grounded myself in their (the people in my hood) smiles and conversation. I enjoy the people who are not afraid to reveal deeper aspects of their characters–the things that cross cultural boundaries and unite us ways that I cannot really measure except perhaps but the length and breadth of our heart strings and the degree to which we are willing to reveal that we are connected as humans, not Thai or Farang (foreigner).