To do list and a few cultural items

Get motorbike serviced - check. I meant to do this in... oh, November. But going to a mechanic is intimidating enough in the states. I asked Gax where I should go, and he told me to go to the mechanic next to the gas station. I couldn't find it. Today I finally discovered that it is about the width of an elevator and, of course, I can't read the Thai script on the sign. The mechanic didn't speak English, so I had to mime checking the tires and oil and point to my broken mirror while saying things like "check oIL ka, check TIREs ka, check BRAKEs ka." But my bike has now been serviced and feels like a new machine. Yay! I don't have to worry about breaking down anymore.

Get a haircut - check. I've been putting this for weeks. Going to a stylist is intimidating enough in the states. I asked around and sarah recommended that I go to a place behind Carrefour. But I couldn't find it at first because I was looking on the wrong side of Carrefour. When I finally did locate it, I tried to explain that I just wanted my bangs trimmed and that they were side bangs. The guy seemed to speak pretty good English, but after listening carefully he proceeded to cut them straight across. Awesome. so I asked one of the students what I should do and she recommended a stylist right across the street from the dorm. Went there today and got my bangs cut again and my hair trimmed. They barely spoke any English but one of the customers did, thankfully, and was able to translate for me. They understood better, but they still didn't do it quite right. Both times I expected there to be spray bottles and clips and lots of measuring and checking length, like at my stylist at home. Nope. Both times they just combed my hair a little bit and eyeballed it. Oh well. I give up. Vanity is a vice, isn't it?

Go to the music department - check! I've wanted to do this since November but between one thing and another, I've never gotten around to it. I did go in a couple times but it was during their lunch hour... and a half. But I can use their practice rooms in the mornings. Time to regain all the music skills I've lost.

On sunday I took one of the students (or rather, she took me) to the walking street market again. Once again, it is pretty cool to have your own personal tour guide and this time we went in a lot of the temples and I asked a lot of questions. There were some cool pictures of Chiang Mai in 1926 in one of them. I tried to picture Chiang Mai alongside spokane at that time.

Going to the market with this student is always an adventure. I almost get to see Chiang Mai through Thai eyes when I am with her. Things that seem odd to me are a part of normal life for her, and having her explain them makes me feel more connected with daily life here and how things work. However, it's a bit overwhelming at times. One of my favorite authors, James Herriot, tells a story about a colleague who practically kills him with generosity. His colleague is so big-hearted and generous that he offers James anything that he shows an interest in or compliments: cigars, shirts, you name it. He won't take 'no' for an answer. Unfortunately this generosity is often smothering, especially when Granville and James go out for drinks... You should read it, it's hilarious, and also a pretty good picture of how I feel when I go to the market with this student. she is so eager to show me things and so generous that she wants me to try everything and offers me half of everything she buys. This means I get to try some rather interesting food items.

The first time she eagerly bought me an omelette with bee eggs and fish stomach soup. "Here Pi' Heidi! Try some fish stomach soup!" she says eagerly, her face all anticipation. "Oh! Okay!" I say, trying channel my fear into forced excitement. Because I can't say no. I certainly can't go "eww! disgusting!" Not with her big brown eyes awaiting my approval. And so I eat fish stomach soup, doing my best not to grimace and to give it an unbiased appraisal.

This week it was chicken fingers. But this time we had company. Ozzie, Glory and Ozzie's friend Eric were with us and were uninitiated with this student's sense of hospitality. As usual she went to buy "her" dinner, of which she would expect us to eat at least half. As soon as she set the food down I plunged right in, preferring to find out what I was eating after the deed was done. "Pi' Ozzie! Pi' Glory! Try some chicken fingers!" she says, taking one for herself. Ozzie and Glory aren't quite as "greng jai" as I am (more on that later) and the fear showed plainly on their faces. I meanwhile was pondering on the fact that part of a chicken's foot was now residing in my stomach. The crunchy bits must have been the tendons. Ozzie and Glory however got to consider the full import of this knowledge prior to the actual experience and from their reactions it dawned on our guide that farang may not be all that fond of eating chicken fingers. Ozzie and Glory were good sports and tried it (and later sprang it on Eric when he joined us) and we had a good laugh about it but I had the weirdest urge to kick all my fellow farang under the table. I should have been relieved to have the burden of eating everything I'm offered lifted from me. But I couldn't help feeling that a barrier had been raised somehow.

This nursing student had simply been showing me her Chiang Mai. Her Thailand. Not Thailand for tourists. Not Thailand for study abroad students. Here we were, the only farang in sight, sitting cross-legged on the ground at a short table. This student hadn't been trying to gross us out or even to test us or stretch us. she'd simply been trying to share. she had no idea that it was weird for us to eat this stuff. But now she'll be more self-conscious. I won't get to marvel at her grabbing a snack of chicken fingers as though they were a plate of french fries and casually offering me one. I feel like I've become one step removed from that window into life here. I guess to me, that was worth having to eat some rather questionable things. If that makes sense.

But in other ways, I don't need that window. Thai culture doesn't always feel that foreign to me. Case in point: greng jai. I don't know the literal translation, but everyone warned me about it when I first came. "There's this thing called greng jai... Thai people won't say what they really mean because they don't want to cause conflict." Okay. Well, that is my family. I don't know if it's a scandinavian thing or what, but my family is painfully non-confrontational. For instance, whenever we go out to eat it takes us about half an hour to actually agree on a restaurant, not because we're arguing but because no one wants to have an opinion in case someone else really wants to go to a different place. At the actual restaurant, if someone gets an order wrong, we're not the kind of people to make a big fuss and send it back. No, most likely we'll just eat what gets put in front of us, whether or not it was what we ordered.

People have told me that I should assert myself and have an opinion. It's not good to repress your desires or some such. But that's not it at all. When I don't give an opinion or a preference, it's because I really don't have an opinion or a preference. It really is more important to me that everyone in the group is happy with the place that we go. If I did have a preference, and ended up getting my way, I would be unhappy if I knew that someone else was unhappy with that choice. That is greng jai. It's the same with the food orders. If the restaurant messes up my order, and I get the wrong thing, I don't want to make a scene. I don't like being the center of attention for one, and I know that it will probably get the waiter or chef into trouble and they have a hard enough job as it is. Mistakes happen. I make them all the time. Unless it's a food I absolutely loath (of which there are few) I'll probably decide that, well, it's not what I had in mind but it looks very nice too and it will be much easier for all involved if we just keep the peace. Greng jai.

so while there are many ways in which Thai culture is absolutely foreign, there are some things that I find I understand surprisingly well. Ironically I find myself trying to explain "greng jai" to the other volunteers who have been here longer than I have. People really do not get it. Once again, it goes back to values, which is something my brother talks about a lot. People act on what is important to them. Greng jai is not a particularly selfless concept. It's not that I'm trying to be a good person or anything. It's just that I naturally dislike conflict. Avoiding conflict is one of my values. It's not always a good thing. Conflict can be beneficial. sometimes I put up with really ridiculous stuff because of trying to avoid it. But it's how I work.