Beyond the Dinner Table
Tucker Strauch, 136 YinD
"We should all bpai tiao (go on vacation) someday" became a familiar phrase from Pi Sawai and Pi Urai, our two host aunts, whenever a beautiful place in Thailand came up in conversation. Yet somehow, after fifteen months at site, those trips never made it past the dinner table. Days off were usually spent relaxing at home with the host family. When Ella and I did travel, we explored Thailand independently rather than alongside them.
When there were a few school holidays leading up to Mid-Service Conference (MSC) in June, I realized it might be the perfect opportunity to take our host family on a little vacation. In the past when we have suggested similar ideas, they were usually shot down due to a lack of interest or an unwillingness to leave the home for a few days. This time, however, when I brought it up at the dinner table one night, I could actually sense some excitement. I suggested that we go visit our other aunt, who lives in Wang Nam Kiao, a mountainous region in the south of Nakhon Ratchasima (Korat). Our 13-year-old host brother, Nam Chiao, immediately got up from the table to look at the calendar posted on the wall to ensure that he did indeed have the suggested days off from school. After a small smile crept over his face, and Pi Sawai and Pi Urai didn’t have any immediate reservations, I knew that the idea had a chance.
To understand why I was skeptical that the trip would actually happen, it's important to understand what "vacation" means in our village. In rural Thailand, people rarely go anywhere. A small trip to the district town to go to the 7/11, or 40 minutes further to the Sisaket City, is enough to be deemed a vacation. Nam Chiao has only left our home during school trips. On top of that, he has a very close bond with both his mother and his buffalo, so any opportunity to venture away from home is met with a general wariness. Pi Sawai owns a convenience store, so leaving town obviously carries a financial tradeoff. And Pi Urai just likes to maintain her role as the community boss (or organizer in softer terms). All in all, when everybody seemed excited to go, Bpa Dten said that her house was available for our visit, and the tickets were booked, it appeared that the stars had finally aligned.
On Monday, June 1st, we departed. Nam Chiao gave his mom a silent wave goodbye. Pi Noi offered to run the convenience store. Pi Urai recruited our neighbor Pi Jack –also the assistant village leader– to drive us all to the train station about 40 minutes away, and we were off. At the station we munched on grilled chicken and sticky rice while we awaited the train. Given that it was Nam Chiao’s first time ever riding a train, he was visibly bouncing with excitement. On the train, we listened to music, played chess, and watched the green and gold Isaan lands whiz by.
After a 4-hour train ride, a 10-minute tuk-tuk ride, and a two-hour van ride, we arrived at Wang Nam Kiao. I was immediately struck by its stunning beauty. I had been to the region before, but Wang Nam Kiao had a different vibe. Rolling green hills stretched toward distant mountains blanketed in a thick canopy. The hills –filled with rows of all kinds of fruits and vegetables: strawberries, durian, wine grapes, avocado– hinted at the richness of the land. Bpa Dten’s home is nestled amongst the hilly farms, surrounded by durian and avocado trees.
Our uncle, who we were visiting, works at a nature preserve near his house, so he offered to take us on an after-hours safari to search for wild elephants and gaurs. I didn’t know what a gaur was prior to rolling up on a whole herd of them, but I soon realized their magnificence. Even while peacefully grazing, their rippling muscles and curved white horns made their immense power impossible to ignore. On the way out of the preserve, we stopped under a tree so that Pi Sawai and Pi Urai could pick wild berries from the lower branches. The berries were astringent and not particularly sweet, but both of them seemed much more excited to fill their hats with berries than they were to see the herd of gaurs that we had just left behind. Right after, we descended the mountain to a huge reservoir, and drove out on the dam just as the sun was slipping behind the hilltops. With the whole extended family together on the dam, the cool breeze blowing through our hair and the sky a soft golden hue, it felt like one of those rare moments when nobody wanted to be anywhere else.
The next day was slower, filled with more time to relax and simply enjoy each other's company in the green hilly paradise. Ella and I went on a morning run around the reservoir. We visited a friend’s durian farm (which unfortunately did not yet have any ripe fruits). We went to two beautiful Buddhist temples (as one does on Thai vacation). Our family members also wanted to take us to a coffee farm –coffee farms are uncommon in our region of Thailand, so it was a special experience. Naturally, our family members still ordered sweet green teas. In the late afternoon, we sat around the house playing Uno, and, while the sun set, we went back to the reservoir to bike around and participate in the free dance aerobics class.
Besides all of the fun activities and the exquisite beauty, some of the most memorable moments were eating a home-cooked meal on the floor with our extended host family, hanging out on the porch late into the night, and chatting in the car on the way to our next adventure. In other words, what made the trip so special was not so much what we did as who we did it with. We were able to see our host family outside of the small village that we call home. Throughout the trip, Nam Chiao was calm and good-tempered, consistently trying to make jokes with us. Pi Sawai just seemed lighter and more energetic, happy to wander the hills with her camera and simply enjoy being away for the weekend. And Pi Urai, well, turned up her complaining a notch or two. Her complaints aren't a sign of dissatisfaction so much as her way of filling the quiet, making her presence known, and relating to everyone around her. Despite the complaining, Pi Urai is always treating us to snacks and ensuring that everybody is well taken care of.
The next day, we took the 2-hour van ride back to Nakhon Ratchasima. Ella and I were headed west to go to MSC, while our family was headed east to go back home. We all said our goodbyes, exchanged some hugs, and boarded our respective rides home. As the bus rolled out of the station, I reflected on the past few days. Away from the convenience store, school, buffaloes, and village responsibilities, I caught glimpses of different sides of my family members. Seeing my family beyond the dinner table and outside the routines that usually define our lives helped me understand them better, and I left Wang Nam Kiao feeling like our short vacation had brought us all just a little closer together.
