"Loy Krathong," Lanterns and Sufficient Happiness

Flipping to the last page on the 2012 calendar, I am oddly at ease. Looking back on our six months here has made me realize how many emotional hurdles I've not only been able to overcome, but to do so, in fact, rather smoothly. The onset of Fall in the States, my birthday, Halloween and Thanksgiving have all come and gone, marking me deep into a territory I deemed in May to surely be a tough one. My favorite 3 months span of the year has reached its height, the Christmas season. I have journeyed from missing Fall but learning contentment, to a birthday abroad but not alone, to yearning for holiday food but accepting the gratefulness that comes with change to, finally, the peak of Christmas and perhaps enjoying it as much as years before. You might ask, "why?"

Anticipating change from afar, both in time and space, we have trouble releasing our most current comforts and relenting to something new. I have been guilty of labeling transition as too much of a challenge even before it arrives. Coming from someone who is currently in the depth of the most life altering of transitions, I can assure you it's easier than it looked from 8,000 miles away. 

Instead of Thanksgiving, my temporary homeland celebrated, "Loy Krathong," a holiday designed to release worry. In an inverse sort of way, this is akin to our American tradition. When you symbolically release worry, or any other burden that weighs on your mind, into the sky, what is left on the ground other than the true, tangible things for which we can truly be grateful? Worries and prayers were lifting into the heavens exactly where they should be -- into God’s open arms, reminding us that His plan is sufficient and our earthly provisions are beautifully, interwoven methods toward arriving to that plan. There I was, standing on the ground of a different country, experiencing this ancient tradition I realized some only have penciled on their bucket list. Accompanied by my best friend, I realized that we were mere acquaintances when this journey began as compared to now. Having received box after box from the US, I realize how truly and deeply surrounded by love I really was. 

In this 2-pronged ceremony, citizens gather on the nights of November's full moon to release lanterns into the sky and "krathongs" into the water. Intermittent glowing orbs float into the air as people randomly light paper lanterns, their light reflecting off the water in competition only with the krathong's candles below.

This week, our friend from the University, a linguistics teacher named Off, took us to a celebration in the neighboring district. He so patiently maneuvered through the masses of people, having avoided the crazy crowds of Loy Krathong for nearly a decade, and helped buy and light our lanterns. Vendors along the river were weaving banana stalk, leaves, flowers and even bread to create the little floating krathongs which people would send sailing out onto the river. Stacks of collapsed paper lanterns flew off the shelves at less than a dollar per piece, and people gathered at the lake's edge to light them and send them hovering across the water into the sky. Off so kindly juggled cameras, lanterns and lighters as we enjoyed the festivities. He lit the wick underneath the lantern's shell, and we watched as the flame's gasses filled the chamber and pulled away. Our first two lanterns were a success, only narrowly missing a power line, but our next two never joined the others in the sky. Terrified that the paper lantern would catch on fire with each puff of wind, we let go prematurely, and the lantern skidded to a peaceful, flickering stop in the water. The laughter from the mishap was more enjoyable than if the lantern had actually lifted into the sky. We are lucky to be surrounded by such kind, local friends.

And as these friends help us find a piece of home here in Thailand, friends and family back home are making the most wonderful efforts to send us a piece of home for the holidays. Boxes from loved ones keep coming, and we are like children on Christmas morning as we dash into the tiny post office everyday with expectant faces. Packages filled with Christmas movies and music from my childhood, Santa hats and other goodies have brightened this time of the year more than I could have imagined. Maybe it's the deprivation and not being inundated by the traditions like I would be at home, or maybe it's the nostalgia of the US Postal service, but I couldn't be happier.

As for the holiday itself, schools will continue as normal, but we are requesting days off to celebrate our religious holiday since they get to celebrate several each month. We've decided to travel 4 hours north to the one place we know that will be open on Christmas day but still surround us with the spirit of Christmas and a sense of home: Starbucks. So with our salted caramel mocha frappes and our peppermint mochas, we'll relax in the air condition of a familiar chain restaurant and bask in what I expect and hope to be a very Merry Christmas.

Taken for Granted: Election 2012 in Thailand

Missing what was probably one of the most significant elections in my lifetime, I sat in front of a fuzzy reception of CNN, amazed that it was even in English. I rushed out of my first morning class and biked to Kelsey’s school where one of her teachers so graciously found the channel for us to follow our country’s election. Being very interested and somewhat informed on political current events, it was hard to watch the outcome knowing that I hadn’t been able to participate.

Enough arguments have been started and completed on Facebook, most everyone of them void of compassion and full of malice toward the “other” party, so I choose not to even make comments in regards to the logistics of the election. Granted, my opinions lie in vast the minority, if that give you any hint as to where my affiliation lies, but that’s beside the point. Liberty is the core of my belief system, and as I stand back to look at the whole picture from 8,000 miles away, I’ve gained a better perspective than I could ever hope to gain if I was in the States, personally attacking people through a microscopic lens.

As I strained to watch the television, Kelsey’s teacher, Pen, made a profound statement. Though not in these exact words, she commented on the efficiency of our system and how lucky we were to be in a country where people are only arguing over politics rather than having to live in fear amongst the corruption and killings associated with it. And that’s when she explained an abridged version of Thai politics to me.

All I know about the story I’m about to tell is from the experience of a local Thai. I’ve not read any sound documents, but I’m convinced that personal stories are the richest form of any history. The last prime minister of Thailand, a man named Thaksin, became a billionaire businessman overnight and began to abuse his power, corroding Thai politics from the poverty ridden class to the police force. Pen described to me the false vows he’d made to the lower class, promising them loans and “free” money. In a funny and somewhat blunt way, Pen described the farmers as gullible and “not smart at all,” so they believed Thaksin. Banks suddenly began giving out money like candy, and people who lived in huts began buying the newest model of expensive cars on the market. When they failed to pay, banks heartlessly (and by means of Thaksin’s newly implemented ideas) took the main possession of these poor farmers, their land. Suicide rates amongst that class skyrocketed, yet they still flock to his empty promises. When Thaksin’s corrupt tendencies and money laundering surfaced, he was quickly labeled a criminal and fled the country. For nearly a decade, Thaksin has wandered the world, battling exile and seeking refuge and begging to be readmitted into the country. The division of his supporters (driven ignorantly by the poor) and his enemies has caused nothing but havoc in Thailand. Occasionally, Thaksin will hold video conferences in undisclosed locations, rallying his supporters and calling them to acts of violence. Once, Pen said, he even promised that if he heard gunfire during his speech to silence the skeptics, he would return to Thailand and rule again. An outbreak of murder began, and Thaksin was nowhere to be found. Rumor has it that he is hiding in Hong-Kong now, evading arrest. Pen said that recently, the captain of the police force in Bangkok located him and immediately hopped aboard a plane, ecstatic to have discovered his whereabouts.

“What do you think the policeman did?” Pen asked.

“Arrested him, I hope!” I replied, intrigued with such a bizarre story.

“No. He went so Thaksin could promote him and put new stars on his uniform.”

So here we are - in a country where politics doesn’t cause upheavals on Facebook or incessant Tweets with agendas. It causes murderous outbreaks, blind belief, uncertainty and death. In wake of this election, stop for a moment and be thankful for the Liberties and honor we DO still possess. Politicians are sometimes full of empty promises, yes, but at the end of the day, we live in a free country - one that’s abundant with prosperity, invokes some semblance of proper leadership and has the ability to unite in the face of tragedy.

I currently live in a country where cars pull over, people stop mid-walk and time stands still at 8 AM and 6 PM when their national anthem is played over television, radio and loud speakers across every city... where the symbolism of their King is admonished and where flags fly at every home, business, school and deserted street. Let's be as thankful for our nation's leaders and lasting liberties as Thais are for theirs, despite such disparity.