New Shoes: October 2016

Each time I start walking home, I pick a songtaew then try to beat it to the Superhighway. Each time I do, I feel an almost guilty pleasure, like I've cheated life and secreted away a few minutes that I can spend any way I choose because really, they should have been sucked away stuck in traffic.

Instead, by ditching convention and booking it home on my own two feet, not only did I sweat away the stress of the day, burn off those lunch calories, and dance a little to the hip-hop blaring in my ears, but I also beat the songtaew.

It didn't start off this way. Last week our car was in the shop. That meant my normal ride home, playing Pokeman for my husband and venting about my day, was not an option. I'd planned on catching a ride home with a colleague, but that day, none of my normal carpool options worked out. I figured I'd try catching a songtaew as far as it'd go (Chiang Mai's main form of public transportation; kind of a mix between a bus and a pick-up truck) and then walk the rest of the way.

My Thai isn't as good as it probably should be after 1 1/2 years in Thailand, but still, I thought I could negotiate a ride on a set route. Stymied, however, not once but twice, by wrinkled, smelly old men who couldn't deign to try to decipher my farang accent and instead waved me away from their nearly empty ride, I started to walk. At first, I still thought I'd catch another ride, but as I went along, I passed the two songtaews I'd unsuccessfully hailed. Ha! I thought spitefully, serves them right. Then the light turned green and they passed me again. I turned my music up and kept walking, sweating through my blouse, aware that my work shoes were not the most sensible for a nearly 5-mile walk home.

I nearly lost my leg from not paying attention to the "sidewalk," so I stopped looking for a ride home and started focusing on my walk. A great song came on and I started skipping along, leaping the random sidewalk junk and crevices as if it were a game.

I passed the songtaews again and thought, hmmm, I wonder if it would have even been worth the ride. Maybe I can beat them to the Superhighway (the big intersection where I would have gotten off to turn toward home if I had gotten a ride, about 3 miles from work). I noticed a group of school kids in the back of another songtaew as I walked past. One smiled at me. I smiled back. I noticed that I felt lighter, happier than when I'd left work, in spite of my tender feet and the nearly suffocating heat and exhaust fumes. Interesting. The songtaews passed me again. The little girl who had smiled before waved at me. How strange the joy that can come from the kindness of a stranger. I smiled goofily and jumped over another break in the sidewalk, then shimmied past some vendors who'd taken up the path.

The Superhighway came into view in the distance and traffic piled up again. I looked up to see the girl in school uniform with long braids, almost daring me to catch up again. And then I was past her, past the songtaew that had turned me down and then past the first disappointing No. And then the light turned green and I hurried across the vast asphalt road, swept up in a sea of motorcycles and scooters and cars and trucks, all hurrying home to their families. And I had won.

The next day I brought better shoes and workout clothes to work, just in case I needed to walk again. I kind of hoped I would. I picked a songtaew to race and set off. That day, I stopped at 7-11 to pay my phone bill and grabbed a bunch of bananas from a sidewalk market and still beat the songtaew.

The next day, I could have begged a ride home from a neighbor, but lingered just a bit too long at my desk. I didn't even think of asking for a ride from the songtaew who passed that time, but I did note the writing on the side, tucking the details in the back of my mind so that I'd be able to pick it out as we leap-frogged the pathway home, so that I'd know if I beat him to the Superhighway. I did.

Although walking home takes a bit more time than driving, it's negligible (about 15 extra minutes). It's hot and sweaty and dirty, but I think it's worth it. It gives me time to think. It gives me time to see, to soak up everything that is Chiang Mai, Thailand: the good, the bad, the ugly, the miraculous.
I weave nervously between ferral dogs rooting in the trash scattered around.

I see beautiful babies and toddlers smiling as they zip between cars on scooters, held by their tired but committed parents. No helmets.

I see gnarled vendors selling strange meats or tires or flowers or beetles hanging on sticks?!

I see so much Thai script that I wish I could read more easily. I smell rotting carcasses and sewage. I smell jasmine flowers. I see monks in bright orange robes and butterflies as big as birds. I am overwhelmed by Thailand. I feel like it is an integral part of my soul. My home. I feel like I am a foreigner and will never belong. I see people bundled in coats and sweaters as I sweat in the humid 90+ degree air and I laugh in amusement.

I watch the sunset light up the sky and watch bats dart and swoop over puddles, catching mosquitos with graceful skill. I see flowers that light up my soul.

I hold my breath as I run through the narrow tunnel and into The Land of Wisdom,

then sneak through forgotten shortcuts, dodging spider webs and praying the snakes are all elsewhere,

and climb over locked gates (it's either that or battle the 8-lanes of traffic zipping by on the ring road!).

I wonder when the construction will be done and what it will be.

And then I am home, and it feels like an oasis, a refuge.

And there are my kids, amazed, "You really walked home again Mom? Really?!" and, "Yuck, you stink! Go take a shower." And hugs and laughing and homework and dinner and high/lows. And I am standing in the entryway marveling at how strange and how wonderful my life is. How ordinary and how extraordinary all wrapped up together. And I am so happy to be alive, and for the old men who said no so that I could discover the thrill of walking home from work.

A few more pictures from my walk home today: