Celebrating Thai Style

     It has been a couple of weeks now, but November 14th was Loy Krathong in Thailand.   It is celebrated on the full moon in November which happened to be the super moon this year.  It is one of the most beautiful holidays when the Thai people give thanks to the river gods by floating "Krathongs" in the water.  We were told that the celebration was off this year due to the king's death, but at the last minute (which is how most things happen here) all festivities were on.
     We began the afternoon at school by making krathongs out of banana trunks as the base and banana leaves creatively folded and twisted to cover the slice of trunk.  Once you had a foundation there was no end to the beautiful creations that can be made with all types of flowers (the classroom floor was covered with orchids and many other tropical bouquets found in the students' gardens).
     After school we went down to the river just a few kilometers from the school under a major bypass through the town.  We hung out for a while observing the locals' ways of saying a prayer, lighting their candles and incense on their krathong, and setting it afloat.  It was also customary to set free turtles, catfish, and eels into the river that many people were selling along the way.  Radd and Suni chose some baby catfish and snails to feed the river.
     When the moon was rising we went up onto the top of the bridge to watch an impressive sight rise above the river to the east.  It was all very peaceful to see the candlelit krathongs below us and the super moon above.
   
     Another beautiful and impressive celebration we participated in recently (like today) was "Sports Day" at our school (Piti Suksa Montessori).  As the name implies, this day was about celebrating sports, but also sportsmanship and cheering for your competitors and classmates.  It also got the parents and teachers involved in some interesting events, like "drag your kid across the grass on a potato sack race."  It was one of those days where it's impossible not to have fun.
     The day started with a grand entrance complete with a runner carrying a flaming torch above his head.  The runner was none other than our boy Radd!  After the lighting of the flame, there was a flag raising ceremony, singing and dancing, a Thai boxing exhibition, baton twirling, and I don't know what else because it was just so full of activity.  One of the highlights though, was the tug of war. First was the kindergartners,  then an upper and lower elementary mix.  Then came the parents vs. parents and finally the parents vs. teachers.  Who doesn't love feats of strength?  The whole school cheered loudly and enthusiastically for their team and in the end every team I pulled on lost.  I blame my poor choice of footwear, but it may have been the other members of my team......
Anyway, in the end, the Red Dragons (our team) won the day with the most points, so Radd and Suni got to celebrate the big win and so we took them out for an early pizza dinner at our favorite pizza spot in Thailand, Bon Lom Jen.  Scrumptious!

One for the books

I had a conversation about the weather with someone about 6 weeks ago.  We talked about how hot it had been and that the new season was on the horizon.  I told him that I honestly could not imagine the heat ever ending, or that it could actually be cold, as some people had told me.  But he insisted that one day in October, I would wake up and the wind will have shifted overnight, and the sky will be bluer, and the air much cooler.  Well, October came and went, but it seems that now in November, the wind has indeed shifted, bringing with it a new season.  I don't know what to call this new season.  It's not like any fall I've ever experienced, and it certainly is nothing like winter, but it is definitely different, and most importantly, cooler.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that the weather in Chiang Rai Thailand right now is perfect, in the shade.  This opens up a lot of potential for residents here. Now people can consider gathering outdoors and engaging in activity at any time of day!  Imagine that!

So, along with the change in season has come a change for all of us to the next stage in culture shock: acceptance.  I think all four of us feel completely comfortable navigating our way through our host country and city, meeting new people, encountering new situations and living here has become more of a joy and less of something to endure.  Thus we have been very busy having fun lately.  To wit:

On Saturday, we had arrangements to revisit the elephant sanctuary that I wrote about previously.  The word was that they just received their elephants and were sufficiently adjusted to their new home to have a couple visitors.  So a small group of us drove out to Elephant Valley Thailand to celebrate with the owners, Jack and Brigit.  We spent half a day observing these four magnificent creatures eating bamboo and tall grass, throwing leaves around, trumpeting and stomping in the mud, and generally looking very comfortable and happy.  We even had a chance to feed them some bananas, their favorite food.  It was fantastic to see the development of the sanctuary, the infrastructure, the rehabilitation of the land, and the introduction of the elephants all finally coming together into a beautiful, harmoniously working system.  

That same day, our lovely friend Irena, bless her heart, came to our house to watch the kids while Jess and I had a night on the town for my birthday celebration. We had heard that there was a little cafe downtown featuring live jazz, and since all live music had been cancelled for the mourning period of 30 days, this was even more of a treat, because it was an exception to the ban.  Le Petit Cafe was a perfect place to start our evening.  It was dark, intimate, and friendly.  In fact, when the band got on stage, the singer noticed the two farang sitting in the back, and asked us (through the microphone) "Do you speak Thai?"  We shook our heads "no" so she proceeded to translate everything she had said in English, which, it turns out, was an explanation of how the music they were going to play had been composed by the king as a lament about being away from his wife.  It was a bit embarrassing to be singled out in front of everyone, but at the same time, we felt very welcomed and accepted too.

After Le Petit Cafe, we headed into the part of the city that is known for it's mostly farang bars.  We went only because we had been hearing about these places for the past 4 months and hadn't ever visited this area, so it was a perfect time to find out what it was like. And now that we know, we don't have to go back....it was that underwhelming.  Nevertheless, we had fun because we were together, having intelligent adult conversation uninterrupted by children for the first time in a long time.  And there was beer.

On Sunday, we decided to check out an area by the river that seemed to be some kind of carnival.  We drove in and realized it was part of the Loy Krathong Festival.  This is one of Thailand's biggest festivals each year.  It celebrates the water goddess who supplies the people with life giving water.  People make or buy Krathongs, which are little rafts that hold flowers, incense, candles and sometimes small amounts of money as an offering to the goddess.  They then float the krathongs down the river.  Well, apparently, they also have carnivals too, so we walked around with the kids playing games of chance and skill, shopping and eating treats.  It was yet another unique experience for us to enjoy and remember as part of our time here.

Then, on Sunday night, we went out to a delicious dinner with Irena and our other friends Ady, Sandy and their beautiful daughter.  Who knew you could get life-changingly delicious barbecue ribs in Chiang Rai???  Another place we had heard about since we arrived was 71 degrees Celsius, a small but very popular restaurant not far from our house.  It is deservedly famous for its ribs, but also features cocktails and salads.  I didn't find out about the salads first hand, but I can vouch for the reputation of the ribs.  For a few minutes, I had to close my eyes and just let the rolling waves of taste-pleasure wash through my brain as their house-made chili sauce dribbled down my chin and the cold Singha sat waiting for me to add it to the mix of delicate flavors in my mouth.  And when the meat fest was over, we indulged in a fantastic chocolate cake made fresh by Ady.

Finally, at Radd's request. we walked across the bridge by the Loy Krathong festival to take in the carnival lights, as well as the lights from the floating krathongs moving peacefully along the current of the Kok River.  It was a poetic ending to my Thai birthday weekend.  One for the books, to be sure.

And so it is that we move into stage 3, where things are a bit easier and time moves a bit faster and our eventual departure from this beautiful place is considered with a bit more reluctance on everyone's part.  Ahh but there are more good times ahead, so why waste time considering such thoughts?  Better to sit outside,
considering and feeling the cool breeze now and appreciating it for its respite from the heat, but also for  its temporal nature.  When the winds blow us back to Montana, we will have time to look back and marvel at each moment we were given here.  Then we will allow ourselves to feel sadness at its passing so quickly - but only for a moment.




   

Spinning Heads Under Seaside Heights

Well, it's been a long time between blog posts and a lot has happened - so much so that I don't feel compelled to write about all of it.  But the two big events that occurred are the death of King Bhumibol and a vacation we took to the beach.  The former being a huge blow to all Thais, both living here and abroad.  The latter having no consequence at all to any Thai anywhere, but almost a necessity to our family.

To be honest,even these two big events I feel reluctant to write about because  I don't feel like I can do either of them justice with my feeble attempt at writing.  One event carries with it so much sadness and possible political ramifications for the entire country, but I, as a foreigner do not fully understand. So I believe I shall just stay silent on the topic and wish all Thai people my sincerest condolences.  
The other event, our vacation, just seems unreal to me already.  It seems so long ago and that we were gone for ages, though we returned only 3 days ago and were gone for 7.  The landscape in Krabi Thailand is so different, so impossibly beautiful that we felt as though we were not only in another country, but on another planet.  The karst cliffs that are one of the hallmarks of Krabi are magical to be near.  I will share one moment as an example of what I mean.

One day we rented sea kayaks and paddled along the coast, along the edge of some limestone cliffs. These cliffs have stalactites all over them, as acidic water filters through and deposits minerals along the way.  So you see caves inside the cliffs, overhangs that look like melted cheese, dripping into the sea, and some hardy vegetation growing where it can on the vertical face of these towering seaside drop offs.  We spotted a tiny sandy beach that was isolated by the cliffs on either side and from behind, and paddled over to get out of the water and play in the breaking surf.  Soon after we arrived, I noticed how water was falling from the tips of stalactites hundreds of feet above our heads, so that it seemed to be gently raining out of the clear blue sky.  Staring up at the source, I saw that you could visually follow one particular drop of water as it fell and then catch it in your hand or on your tongue. What was even more amazing was that these water droplets seemed to be tiny packets of light because of the way the water held the sunlight shining on them.  It was dreamlike in the best sense of the word.  These types of magical sights were common during our week and transported all of us outside time and our daily lives into  something altogether separate - very distant.

Returning home to Chiang Rai, we feel very strange to say the least.  Everything is just as we left it, for the most part, and life continues on.  It's been a struggle to get back into the groove - we are still trying.  Meanwhile, we are missing friends and family back home worse than ever and are discussing how exactly to mentally frame our time here.  How do we handle the down time?  What do we focus on to make the most of this opportunity?  It requires a lot of reflection and internal and external dialogue, but it's an interesting conversation!

  

Best Trip So Far

One of the really great things about living in Chiang Rai, is the opportunity to check out the rest of Northern Thailand so easily.  Within an hour and a half's drive, you can be virtually anywhere in Northern corner of this beautiful land.  Mind you, that's an hour and a half of driving along some of the most scenic landscape in South East Asia, so getting there is half the fun.

Thus, having the chance to intimately get to know this region, we take as much advantage as possible.  Last weekend was no exception.  We had been encouraged by several people recently to check out a place known as Doi Tung.  But a quick search on Google showed that there is a large garden there and that's pretty much it.  Not that I am against gardens or anything, but I have to say I wasn't terribly psyched to sit in the Soluna for oven an hour to look at a couple of flowers, especially since I know my kids are not going to be excited either.  In other words, they're going to be bored as hell and cause us all kinds of grief because there aren't any "kids activities" anywhere even remotely close to where we are going.  No thanks - I'll sit in front of the fan with a home-made juice pop and try to remember what the other non-summer seasons are like.  But fortunately for me, we were out of juice pops, so off to Doi Tung!

As we headed north along the super highway, we couldn't help but notice the dark storm clouds up ahead.  We were heading directly into a monsoon to spend our Saturday walking around a garden with 2 young children.  But the rains held until we started to climb the mountain road that leads to the Queen's Villa and her garden.  Then the sky opened and all the water in heaven came out at once, sending rivers of brown water down the mountain and across the road in several places.  The Soluna's windshield wipers were woefully inadequate to deal with such a deluge.  The Soluna's tiny engine was also woefully inadequate to propel us up the hill at any speed over 20 kph in low gear.  This turned out to be just fine because the road twisted and turned so much that higher speeds would not have been advisable.  By the time we reached the top, both kids were car sick, but the rains had lightened a little, so we got out with our little umbrellas to have a look at the place.

 It turns out, the only thing on top of this mountain is the garden itself, the Queens villa, a lodge and a couple of coffee shop/restaurants - Google was pretty much right on.  Regardless, after a quick bathroom break, we got a cappuccino, a cup of tea and our tickets to the garden and villa.  It should be noted that Doi Tung is situated in such a way that even when you pull into the center of these buildings, you still can't really see much.  The villa and gardens lay hidden behind tall and dense jungle foliage, so we weren't really sure what we were getting into yet.  But as we descended some wide wooden stairs behind the ticket office, parts of the garden came into view, and I realized quickly that this place was special.

From the natural topography of the mountain, the garden was built to include orchid houses, small ponds, fountains, sculptures, a maze, and even the obligatory coffee stand.  What immediately leaped to mind was the amount of design work, physical labor and love that went into the construction of this garden.  Each rock, tree, flower, blade of grass seemed placed to evoke an emotion, to please the spirit, to pet the soul and make it purr.  As a testament to this, I submit the following evidence:  even the kids were impressed. They walked around each corner with appreciation, curiosity, and a smile.  There was just something that held our attention and wouldn't let go.  Of course, kids are slippery little suckers, so they were able to finally escape from its mesmerizing charm and wanted to move on to the villa, a corner of which is visible from part of the garden.

We walked up  and around a winding path, following signs for the villa until we came to another sign that showed (through pictures) that wearing shorts into the building was a no-no.  I stopped at the gate and was given a large pair of denim pants to wear over my clothes.  These pants were a definite fashion statement, one that I was not sure I wanted to make at first.   They were huge, both in the waste and along the legs.  The female attendant fitted the chords around my hips and tied them gently and with great care.  When I walked away, I felt like I was wearing traditional Northern Thai bell bottoms.  But by the time I gave them back, I was wondering where I could purchase a pair for myself.




  Afterwards, we marched on, up to the house past a brick wall with cascading tropical flowers, perfectly manicured trees with orchids blossoming along their trucks, and tourists wearing traditional Northern Thai bell bottoms.  When we reached the front door, we were each given a self-guided tour headset and pointed in the right direction; then we were off.  From the first fact, we were engrossed in  our audio tour guide's description of the house, it's materials and purposes, its artifacts and history until the end of the tour on the far end of the house.  The kids listened intently as they learned about the Queen mother and this unique villa that blends lanna style architecture with Swiss accents.  One thing I thought was especially cool was the materials that were used.  The outer siding was of split teak, but the inner walls were done in pine planks that were recycled from old shipping crates.  A royal palace whose main interior feature was reused pine?  Instant respect from me.

On we walked, again taking note of each amazing corner and artifact, appreciating what were were hearing about this remarkable woman whose efforts resulted in replanting whole forests, supplanting poppy production with tea and coffee farming, as well as inspiring the local people to further their education.  She spoke Thai, French and English equally well, which is to say native-like.  And she started life as a "commoner,"  but married a prince - a story not unlike my own wife's, by the way.  Be that as it may (or may not), we came to the end of the house and the end of the tour when we were confronted by an unexpected view.  The clouds had cleared somewhat while we were inside and left us with an scene out of Lord of the Rings.  There were small farms below us in the valley, with tiny houses clustered close together where the hills descended out of the mist.  It is no wonder the Queen mother chose this for her villa and development project.  The scene was utterly inspirational, to say the least.

After the tour, I regretfully returned my pants and felt naked without them.  We walked slowly toward the car, but made a brief detour at "the bazaar."  This was basically just a few tables set up to sell local handicrafts and produce.  We bought a few plums and a pomegranate for the ride home and said goodbye to this truly spiritual place.  Everyone in the family felt happy to have come and experience something so outside of our normal routine and "Western" lives.  We will come back, more than once probably, to wander the mountain and absorb the tranquility, beauty and soul of  Doi Tung.  

Vincent Vega Was Right: "It's the little differences"

In one of my all-time-favorite movies, Pulp Fiction, one of the main characters, Vincent Vega, delivers a classic dialogue with another main character, Jules Winnfield.  Having just returned from an extended stay in Europe, Vincent is explaining to Jules the various differences in law, specifically pertaining to hash, between Amsterdam and in the U.S.  And as Vincent reflects, he breaks it down to this conclusion, "But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is?  It's the little differences.  I mean they got the same shit over there that they got here, but it's just there, there it's a little different."

Well I think that perfectly summarizes how I've been feeling about Thailand, and I mean this in a positive way, as Vincent Vega does.  Here, it's just a little different.  "Example?" as Jules would say.
Well, take water for instance.  We have water that comes out of our taps and shower heads, but no one drinks it.  It would most likely make you sick very quickly.  Instead, everyone drinks drinking water that they get delivered to their house, either in a large 5 gallon-sized bottle, or, as we do, in crates of 1 liter bottles, 20 to a crate.  In our neighborhood, the water guys come by on Thursday morning.  We simply leave our empty crates and bottles on the porch with payment in a small plastic bag, and the guys replace them with full bottles.  How much does it cost for a week's worth of drinking water?  About 90 baht for 3 crates, or a little less that $2.50.

Similarly, we don't have gas pipes supplying natural gas to our stoves, so everyone here has a propane bottle under their kitchen counter, much like a barbecue back home in the States.  When the gas runs out, you call the delivery guy in your area and he's there in 10 minutes.  Ours ran out about 3 weeks ago, so our beautiful neighbor called for us.  The delivery guy came in on a motorbike with this extremely heavy gas tank bungee strapped to the back.  He brought it in, hooked it up, and charged us about 300 baht, or about $8.20.  This should last a couple of months.

But for us, "the funniest thing" about Thailand is the little differences....between the people.  People here, as an entire culture, are a lot more accepting of other people.  Whatever makes you different, be it your physical appearance, your voice, your lifestyle, your religion, your country of origin, is OK here.  It's OK.  In Thai, they say, "mai pen rai." which means several things, but at its core is the idea of "it isn't a big deal."  Therefore, it's OK.  This attitude (or is it a lack of attitude?) is impossible to miss for an outsider.  I have never once seen a Thai person lose his/her cool at another person, though I'm told it does happen occasionally, of course.  And when you leave your house, you see it everywhere.  Buddhists and Muslims shopping at the market. mai pen rai.  A small group of "lady boys" applying makeup as they drink their beers next to a group of straight young men at the bar.  mai pen rai.  A goofy-assed white American (me) absolutely butchering the Thai language as he tries to buy a watermelon smoothie (delicious!) for his two Thai kids who don't speak Thai.  mai pen rai.  And yes, driving your motorbike sans helmet and holding an umbrella with one hand as your two kids sit behind you, also sans helmet.  mai pen rai.  

Perhaps this approach to living is also more obvious to us now because of this year's election in the U.S.  It's an historical time.  Historical in the sense that the xenophobia bubbling to the surface has fouled the air in our country many times throughout history: It was once the Irish, the Italians, the Germans, the Chinese, the Mexicans... the list goes on and on but the pattern stays the same.  We are looking for a scapegoat to sacrifice.  Doing so will solve all our problems, except that it won't.
I wonder if everyone could see and experience the beauty, benefit and practicality of mai pen rai, what would happen?  Could we adopt this attitude just a little?  Could we just ignore the things that make us appear different, knowing that it's not a big deal?

Alas, the little differences are calling me away now.  I have to move the clothes off the clothes line before the last of the monsoon rains come and soak them again.  There's also the issue of cleaning off the gecko poop from the window ledges.  mai pen rai, mai pen rai, mai pen rai, mai pen rai........

The Ice Cream Man!  Only here he comes up on a motorbike with a Nestle side car.  mai pen rai

Losing Weight and Getting Fat

It's been slowly dawning on me, this realization of what is happening to me.  You see, the differences between our lifestyle here and in Montana are actually kind of slight and subtle, so it's difficult to notice the effects these differences are having.  We walk a  line between accepting new tastes and behaviors and finding a way to comfort ourselves with the familiar.  Some basic examples that leap to mind are entertainment and food.  We are starting to get twitchy for NFL Sundays with friends and American beer and homemade nachos that should probably have a building inspector approve its structural integrity before being carried across the house to the living room.  I'm still not sure how we are going to satisfy this need here in Thailand, but we're looking into all sorts of possibilities.  Another example is what we eat on a daily basis.  At home in Montana, it was Mexican at least once - if not twice - a week.  Here, a small bag of tortillas are hard to find, and if they can be found, they are of poor quality and very expensive.  What to do?  We learned how to make our own. Homemade salsa and guacamole are easy and cheap to make here, too.  But other than that, our diets have transformed to rice-based, light and healthy (though predictable).  Rice, chicken, vegetable stir fry again?  Sorry kids, it's hard to shop here and think of new dishes that everyone likes.  Get used to it.

Beer is another thing.  When I first arrived in Chiang Rai, I got very sick for about a week.  I couldn't eat almost anything and I wouldn't have dreamed of having a beer at the time.  After recovering, I felt strangely less attracted to alcohol, at least to having more than one beer at a time.  Even now, two months later, I hold the bottle of Chang like it could explode in my hand and send shards of glass into my eyes.  It gives me a slight sense of danger, as if I have to acknowledge its power, so that now I drink my one beer in a glass with ice and I'm done.

All this has led, for me, into a noticeable weight loss.  Two notches off my belt and some shorts that I can't wear anymore because they just slide down to my ankles.  Ch. ch. ch. ch. changes.  This is what's happening to me:  I am eating fewer times throughout the day.  I am eating less food when I do eat.  I am eating lighter, healthier food.  And I am drinking less alcohol.  This is a result of a mix of my environment and my experiences here, and in the end, of course, I feel a lot better, healthier, and I don't miss half-pound barbecue bacon burgers with fries and two or three IPAs.  Ok, that last part is a lie, but only in theory do I miss meals like that.

Now, what about getting fat?  This is more of a hope I have for the future than a current reality, as we continue to figure out our finances and how to stabilize our budget.  I long to construct a life like The Kinks sing  about in "Sunny Afternoon":

And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
In the summertime
In the summertime
In the summertime

Many expats move to Thailand because their Dollars or Euros or Kronor or whatever go further.  They can live at a higher standard than they could back home.  For us at present, I don't know if that's true.  At least it doesn't feel like it.  I'm sure that has something to do with the fact that it took me over a month to find a job and we had to spend a lot of money upfront to put down on our house, buy our car, and just secure a lot of odds and ends that were necessary to live.  Now, the dust is settling a little and we're hoping to move on up (to the East side).  I'll let you know how that goes, but I just had an interesting little epiphany about that:  Jess and I are constantly trying to figure out how to have more free time to pursue the activities that make life worth living, like spending time with the kids, being out in nature, enjoying a nice meal, whatever.  On the other hand, we often complain to each other about wanting more money to "get our piece of the pie."  Now it occurs to me that these two things are almost mutually exclusive.  Either you work harder and work more to get more money, or you pull back and take the free time.  Having both is the holy grail!  Is it only a myth?  I'll meditate on that a while and when I have it all figured out, you'll see the infomercial for the answer to it all at 4 AM.


Just kidding!  Here's the answer - for free:

What's happening to me?  I guess I'm getting more philosophical about life - what matters and what may come.  In the end, the conclusion I see coming is, "don't think about it too much - if you can help it."  Life is fleeting.  It's like a bus ride:  You can pass the time thinking about how uncomfortable it is, how boring perhaps, how you wish you could speed up the time and get to where you're going - or you can realize that there are beautiful things right in front of you for you to notice and wonder at and appreciate.  The sunset, rainwater catching sunlight on a lotus leaf or concrete elephants romping in the local watering hole at a riverside park.

Subtle changes indeed.

Stage 2 - in effect

According to the internet (and Princeton University), there are 4 stages of cultural adjustment.  The first stage is known as the Honeymoon, where everything is not only new, but also exciting and interesting and the traveler feels "Euphoric."  He/she finds interest in the slightest details of the new environment.  He/she is motivated to learn and experience new things.  He/she feels like he/she isn't going to have any problems adjusting.  I would say for Jess and me, that period is over.

We have moved into the second stage: Culture Shock.  This period is marked by the traveler's frustration at small problems. Feelings of  helplessness and stress pervade.  He/she is homesick and misses family and friends.  That's us.  The past week has been challenging for us, to say the least. Issues with obtaining my visa, a lack of communication regarding important work related details, kids getting sick...and all the while, you just wish you could go hiking or get on your bike, or just not drive through clouds of blue exhaust.  It all came to a head for me last week driving back and forth between my work and Jess' school and thinking about the endless hoops of visa paperwork and signatures and stamps and at the same time realizing that the one thing I did not want to happen was happening:  I had recreated the same busy and stressful life I had back in Bozeman in 6 short weeks of being here.  Now I need to undo what I have done.  I need to say no to people and not work as much as they want me to.

For Jess, just having had her 40th birthday this weekend, I think she misses home more than anyone. Despite a nice weekend up north gazing at the Mekong River and wondering about life on the other side, the happiness was tempered by the absence of old friends and family.  We are both feeling a little trapped by the language and cultural barriers that exist whether you notice them at first or not. Little things that are so easy to do at home turn into frustrating obstacles here.  And in the end, you realize this is all temporary, so why stress yourself out?  As I said, say "no" to people to give yourself the right amount of responsibility and obligation and enjoy the rest of your time doing what you love to do.  That applies to everyone, not just those living for a year abroad.

Stages 3 and 4 in our cultural adjustment will come eventually.  We will gain perspective and start to feel more at home here.  But right now, the little things that we perceive as "illogical"  or "inefficient" are driving us crazy.  As a brief example, I have to get on a bus tomorrow morning and go to Chiang Mai, three and a half hours away, to go to the U.S. Consulate in order to swear in an affidavit that I am married to Jessica.  Immigration here considers that more valid than the actual marriage certificate. Then I will travel three and a half hours back to Chiang Rai, and even after that, I may or may not have to leave the country at some point in the future, just to turn around and come back into the country as a tourist before I can get a work visa.  According to Princeton University, at some point in my adjustment, I will understand this and accept it, but I'm telling you, right now it seems like that stage is pretty far off.

Until then, we will go to school and work, go on adventures, continue to meet new people, learn about our new country, and have fun; but we will also continue to miss home like hell.

The best neighbors we could ask for while we are living abroad!