Or home-sweet-home, which for me is in Chumphon in the narrow strip of Thailand that leads South running alongside Mynamar. I'm staying with Pe-Om at the house she stays in owned by a senior teacher and her family.
The open-plan layout of the living quarters is a mix between home, hotel and school; children's books and whiteboards in every other room. As soon as we arrive we are whisked to dinner at a local squeaky-clean diner at the gas-station called Canyon-black. The waitress dressed in her pink shirt and black bow-tie takes our orders from the international menu with highlights of Thai-Italian fusion food, the award-winning pad thai and thai-salads.
Pejim (57), the eldest, is the mother of Baitdou (30), who is getting married in August, PeBe (35) and PeOm (27). Baitdou disappears at the beginning of the meal, coming in half way through with banana fritters and hot sliced banana and syrup. They all watch as I sample the first bite, which luckily enough is enjoyable. They taste a lot like caramelised sweet potatoes.
We leave as quickly as we arrive heading on to the wedding dress shop for Baitdou. The porch of the shop glows with pinky-yellow white from the inside of the shop and is littered with dirty-cream fluffy cats who lay un-bothered as we perch next to them on the bench. The window display of huge meringue white dresses, dusted with clear and sparkling gems is sickly sweet but mesmerising. Hidden to the left of these are the traditional Thai-dresses. Thick golden, pink and purple silks, starched and folded into a perfect origami skirts and shirts. Next to these, a lone chair sits to the audience of two large mirrors laced with boxes of make-up brushes and foundation. Rare English inscriptions on the cornucopia of trophies scattered around the shop, gleam proudly of Best Make up artist of the year. A cluttered cabinet display of tiaras holds court to a large white doll with ginger hair, her eyes three times to big for the size of her face.I stop and pose for photos teased out of me with Thai flattery: suay = beautiful.
We stop at the supermarket on the way back. The bank next door adorned with a 10x10 image of the Thai King is the night time host to a food stall selling freshly rolled roti. The female-stall owner absent-mindedly massaging the tiny yellow-dough-dumplings with her fingertips before frying them.
Outside the supermarket a family take it in turns to weigh themselves on a BMI machine. Squabbling as the little boys flicks at the switches randomly. At 5'10" I feel miles too tall for Thailand. Towering over the shelves in the supermarket that are shrink from the shoulders to the floor. My eyes flick from shelf to shelf occasionally catching on recognisable products. Cadburys diary milk, Nivea, coke. Staples of any Western lifestyle.
It's just after nine by the time I finally find myself in bed. The glow of the lights in the courtward muted through my mismatched shower-curtain turned bedroom curtains. Through the gloom the yellow uniform of a well-worn sticker of a cartoon sticker shines; her black mouth a small round circle not that much larger than her eyes makes her out to be a nervous toddler on their first day of school. Not too dissimilar from my expression, I think. Parroting Thai words back to my host and trying to learn as quickly as possible from the world around me, I feel like a child again.
The open-plan layout of the living quarters is a mix between home, hotel and school; children's books and whiteboards in every other room. As soon as we arrive we are whisked to dinner at a local squeaky-clean diner at the gas-station called Canyon-black. The waitress dressed in her pink shirt and black bow-tie takes our orders from the international menu with highlights of Thai-Italian fusion food, the award-winning pad thai and thai-salads.
Pejim (57), the eldest, is the mother of Baitdou (30), who is getting married in August, PeBe (35) and PeOm (27). Baitdou disappears at the beginning of the meal, coming in half way through with banana fritters and hot sliced banana and syrup. They all watch as I sample the first bite, which luckily enough is enjoyable. They taste a lot like caramelised sweet potatoes.
We leave as quickly as we arrive heading on to the wedding dress shop for Baitdou. The porch of the shop glows with pinky-yellow white from the inside of the shop and is littered with dirty-cream fluffy cats who lay un-bothered as we perch next to them on the bench. The window display of huge meringue white dresses, dusted with clear and sparkling gems is sickly sweet but mesmerising. Hidden to the left of these are the traditional Thai-dresses. Thick golden, pink and purple silks, starched and folded into a perfect origami skirts and shirts. Next to these, a lone chair sits to the audience of two large mirrors laced with boxes of make-up brushes and foundation. Rare English inscriptions on the cornucopia of trophies scattered around the shop, gleam proudly of Best Make up artist of the year. A cluttered cabinet display of tiaras holds court to a large white doll with ginger hair, her eyes three times to big for the size of her face.I stop and pose for photos teased out of me with Thai flattery: suay = beautiful.
We stop at the supermarket on the way back. The bank next door adorned with a 10x10 image of the Thai King is the night time host to a food stall selling freshly rolled roti. The female-stall owner absent-mindedly massaging the tiny yellow-dough-dumplings with her fingertips before frying them.
Outside the supermarket a family take it in turns to weigh themselves on a BMI machine. Squabbling as the little boys flicks at the switches randomly. At 5'10" I feel miles too tall for Thailand. Towering over the shelves in the supermarket that are shrink from the shoulders to the floor. My eyes flick from shelf to shelf occasionally catching on recognisable products. Cadburys diary milk, Nivea, coke. Staples of any Western lifestyle.
It's just after nine by the time I finally find myself in bed. The glow of the lights in the courtward muted through my mismatched shower-curtain turned bedroom curtains. Through the gloom the yellow uniform of a well-worn sticker of a cartoon sticker shines; her black mouth a small round circle not that much larger than her eyes makes her out to be a nervous toddler on their first day of school. Not too dissimilar from my expression, I think. Parroting Thai words back to my host and trying to learn as quickly as possible from the world around me, I feel like a child again.