Homestay in Huai Lan: Home Away From Home (Part 2)

by Vorleak, Alonso & Liam

“Home away from home.” It’s a phrase that gets thrown around a lot when talking about homestays, right? But honestly, nothing could have prepared us for the whirlwind of emotions that came with actually living it.

“Home away from home.” The words that echoed in our heads as we rode off to the Huai Lan Community from our Doodle house in our usual silver vans, our hearts pounding like the Khon dance drum. We have still yet to know who our host mothers “Maes” were but there they were; beaming with their smiles all wide and welcoming, but their words, a melodious cascade of Thai, washed over us like a foreign tide. We managed to speak out “Sawadee kha and Sawadee krap” a basic phrase taught by our Kru Nim and Kru Angpao, but one that has helped us out in countless awkward situations.

Home. The world felt alien in this old wooden house supported on stilts, the air both outside and inside filled with the scent of lemongrass, basil and other unfamiliar spices. My room, a simple space with egg colored walls, a giant woven rose mat and mosquito net, was a far cry from my Rilakkuma pattern bed sheets and walls covered with bookshelves back home in Cambodia.

We could not wait so we decided to take off on a quick bike ride to Harmony Lodge, 10 minutes from our host homes. The afternoon sun beat down as we cycled around an unfamiliar sketchy narrow dirt road we found on google maps, the sound of stray dogs barking at us, the green rice paddies blurring into a vibrant scenery. We took a deep breath as we were speeding downhill. Laughter filled the air as we navigated the rocky path, our mountain bikes wobbling over the uneven terrain. Suddenly, my front tire hit a big stone that was small in disguise, flying off the road and tumbling into a ditch. We were covered in grass stains and dust, but thankfully unscathed. My friends picked me up as we cried from laughter that echoed through the tranquil countryside.

When it comes to food, many would say it’s one of the things that brings you closest to home. For me, coming back from Thai class in the afternoons and walking into the house filled with the aroma of spices coming together to create a delicious meal reminds me of when I used to return home from school in my country, where my mom would be waiting with a delicious plate of food.

​​Cooking has helped me strengthen my bond with my homestay mom specifically, as she’s taught me how to make all sorts of foods that I hadn’t even heard of, much less known how to make before coming to Thailand. From the spicy Kao Soi broth, to the alluring aroma of Pad Siu, to the crispy chip-like creation that is Kao Kep, I have found not only a widely expanded palette in cooking with my homestay mom, but also a deepened sense of connection. I remember specifically helping my homestay grandma cook over the open fire they have outside, that’s used for cooking rice and steaming meats. She showed me how to cook the rice chips she was making, then helped me do it, and let me try a few. Even though language can be a barrier, connection and a sense of home is not something that is often confined by languages.

Additionally, I felt a sense of home while making art with my homestay dad. He told me about how he decorates the whole house with art, beautiful mosaics lining the wooden walls, carvings of ancient stories from the Huai Lan community above the dinner table, and the symbol of two fish – one silver and one gold – that represents the community being painted everywhere that he could find space for it. One afternoon, after I had finished helping my homestay mom with housework, he came up to me and told me to follow him. I did, and before I could take in the beautiful art in, he was handing me a spade, a bucket of concrete, and pieces of broken plates. I stood there confused, as he pointed up and down the mosaic on the walls around the house, eventually realizing that he was telling me to help add to it. He showed me the part he wanted me to add to, and told me that he wanted me to help him with it so that I could contribute to his home in a way that would last for long after I left and went back to America. The hospitality that everyone in my host family showed me made me feel more comfortable than I ever could have imagined in the homestays, and coming home to greet them feels just like seeing my family back home.

Staying with the homestays makes me feel closer to the local culture, while also giving me a sense of being accompanied, as if my family were nearer. Maybe I feel this way because on the first night I had dinner with my host family, I was very nervous, afraid I wouldn’t fit in. However, my Thai grandfather told me that he hoped I would come to feel at home, while my Thai grandmother reassured me, saying I should tell my mom not to worry, as she would take care of me during my stay with them.

This type of experience is often quite different from what I would usually encounter at home, from the food to family dynamics. However, there are many things we share in common, such as having dinner together, talking about our day, helping each other, being hospitable, and sharing our culture with others. So far, the homestay has made me feel closer to home, allowed me to connect more with myself, and helped me better understand what I want to achieve from this experience.

Days turned into weeks. We stumbled through our clumsy Thai conversations, our tongue forming into a sound “gin maak maak” instead of “gin yer yer”. We joined our host families for temple festivals at Wat Pratung, mesmerized by the enchanted rituals and ceremonies.

Slowly, the unfamiliar become familiar. The smiles of our host Maes became a source of comfort. The spicy aromas floating in from the kitchen became a welcoming invitation to dinner. The sounds of the village – the chanting monks at 6am in the morning, the chattering geckos, the barking of stray dogs across the street – became the soundtrack of my new “home.” And in that moment, we realized that “home” wasn’t just a place or a structure built from wood or brick. It was a feeling – a sense of belonging, of connection, of love. And we had found it, unexpectedly, in this small Thai village called Huai Lan, halfway across the world.

Yours truly,

Vorleak, Alonso and Liam

Originally posted here.