Home(s)

When you leave a place, especially a place that has been home, you leave a lot behind. Of course, I don't mean things. Things don't amount to much. What you leave behind are people. I've been spending the past couple of years trying not to dwell on that. As the Cowboy Junkies say, "It don't pay to think too much 'bout all the things you leave behind."

For the last couple of weeks, knowing that I'll be back home soon, I've been letting my mind go to all the places I haven't been able to for a long time. Of course, my sleeping mind has been taking me there all along. Dream, after dream, after dream I've been in some version of Tivoli on Mikee's little bakery porch. Before I moved to Thailand, I spent a lot of time sitting on that porch (in all weather) drinking coffee and talking to friends, some close friends and some porch-friends that I rarely saw otherwise.

I have a couple of porch-friends here too, but it's different. I don't speak enough Thai to really get anything going, but I get friendly nods from a half-dozen shopkeepers, neighbors, and of course, the prison guards every time I go out. (I never told you about the prison? I'll have to some day.)

Just today, something switched in my head. I started to see around me what I'll pine for when we leave here. (Humans, they're always wantin' somethin' that's just outta reach.)


We've been joking for a long time with Nok (sister-in-law extraordinaire) that she's small enough to put into a suitcase and carry back to the U.S. We will be leaving her behind in Chiang Mai for now, and I'm frankly not sure how she and Jimmy will handle the separation. I will miss her (largely) silent companionship and her willingness to try just about anything I can come up with (even wearing a bathing suit, heaven forbid!).


She has been my voice, when I just can't figure out what to say, or when I say it (in Thai) and no one gets it. (And, yes, the fruit guy DOES have a radio with speakers strung up under the handles of his hand truck - fruit AND free entertainment!)


Before I get myself back onto Mikee's porch, we have a few stops to make. First in Thailand. We're going back to Amnat's village, where my life in Thailand began a couple of years ago. The little house in the fruit orchard was transformed into a wedding party then. This time, we are going for an ordination ceremony. Amnat's cousin Jack will ordain as a monk. The little village will be buzzing, as it did for us and our wedding, and the good people of Khlong Lodt will be the last faces I see before flying home.



And, oh boy, I can't wait to see the faces of the people I've left behind. Some day soon, I'll be there trying not to think too much about what we're leaving here.