by Kaliyah and Yeili
Yeili <3
Saturday:
I was so excited when we stepped foot into the community center in Huai Lan. All the mothers looked very excited. I was nervous and had already done my research (looked into last year’s Yak board) and knew who my host mother was. Settling into Mae Tim’s house was great but new to me. I have never done a homestay before, so I was definitely very nervous about the language barrier and my bad Thai. Once I got there Mae Tim showed me around and let me settle down. I am a shy person at first, so the first day was a big challenge for me. Mae Tim and I had dinner together and a lot of women showed up and began practicing a traditional northern dance called Fon Leb. They invited me to dance with them and with my two left feet I tried learning the dance.
Sunday:
I woke up early in the morning and Mae Tim and I headed to the Reservoir and met Na Noo there. We walked 4 km around the reservoir. There were no more mushrooms to pick, but we got lucky and found two. Mae Tim was very excited and let me pick them first. In the afternoon Mae Tim invited me to the Temple to see her and her friends dance Fon Leb. It was one of the most beautiful traditions I have seen. We had a “buffet” in the temple and had various foods a lot of locals brought. We spent another evening dancing, but a more upbeat song.
The first few days in Huai Lan have been heart warming. Although it’s been a couple of days with Mae Tim, I have gotten comfortable and attached to her. She really does treat me as one of her daughters. Now, being away during excursion, I miss her and Na noo. I can feel the caringness from Mae Tim and her family, which makes me feel extremely loved and comfortable. Her home cooked meals are great, and I can tell she cooks with so much love. Na noo’s patience in teaching me the same simple steps for three days has shown me how patient I need to be. Homestay is definitely a unique experience and new for me, but I’m excited to see what other adventures and experiences we will have in Huai Lan.
Kaliyah <3
Excited. Nervous. Engaged. Curious. Reflective. Hopeful. Cautious. Open. Adapting. Walking. Running out of nervousness. Walking again. Smiling. Waving–oops, bowing. Gazing.
Glancing.
Communicating with and without words.
There’s nowhere else we’d rather be at this moment.
Apart from the lovely rice fields hugged by the mountains frequently captivating me, my attention was fully on the situation at hand–we have just arrived in Huai Lan, our residing village in mountainous rural Thailand. I loved the city, but I’m looking forward to embracing the slow and neighborly motions of a region I’ll come to love. I was offbeat about the welcome tradition–tying cotton bracelets around our wrists as a sign of protection and embrace from the village, but the motives brought much comfort. A few bowls of traditional Northern Thai food and upbeat P’Bo translations, we are each matched with our mother–sounds strange to say, and yet accurate. I can’t tell all the aspects yet, but I know I couldn’t have matched with anyone other than my Mae Ausa.
10,000 miles away from home, yet staying with her area near the village center prompts the most welcoming experience so far into the program. My family had their genuine concerns mixed with their reasonable but incomplete interpretations of homestays, suggesting their single story view of northern Thailand. But between the smile from Mae Ausa, the quick escort to get home, and the onset of us cooking dinner as the start of our tradition was more eye–opening than any words could have prepared for.
So far, I’ve been speaking conversational Thai well while practicing a bit of written letters for fun. A fun challenge for me in growing is communicating with my Mae, whose English is limited but patience is endless. She listens kindly as I stumble through tones–since “maa” could mean horse, dog, or “come here,” and I rarely know which one I’ve just said. Thankfully we’re often able to laugh it off and playfully joke about how some words, such as strawberry and sa-dtaw-buh-rîi, are not so different from each other, just as we are.
It’s been just over a week, and yet I feel connected to my Thai family more than I could have imagined at this point. There are many times where our dining room/kitchen/living room is filled with laughter and other times, more serious and heartfelt moments such as reminiscing over late, close family members. But whether in my own home or at the reservoir or community center where we met nearly everyday the first week to learn/teach Thai dance and line–dancing, I will say that I am gratefully in a place where I can step outside of my comfort zone with more eagerness each morning.