Mom and Dad’s Grand 'Pah-jahn-pie'

I know many of you must be wondering how Keith and Louise are faring in Thailand. Admittedly, I was more than apprehensive about their decision (well, Dad’s decision) to venture to the Far East. Anyone who has ever met my parents can understand my unease. Mom enjoys the comforts of home. She likes doing laundry and curling up in the chaise with a good book. She also likes seat toilets. Dad talks, a lot, and usually at a high decibel level. He likes having meaningful conversations with strangers, and this usually requires a response on the other end, in English, (although, now that I think about it, not always). I wouldn’t exactly call either of them ‘culturally sensitive.’ Don’t get me wrong, they’re very sweet, kind, and tolerant, but neither of them watches the Travel Channel or the Amazing Race as religiously as I do.

Despite my many honest warnings about potential issues they might have in this country, Dad booked the plane tickets (much to Mom’s initial dismay) and the decision was made. Now again, don’t read into this! I was excited that they would be coming, I was just feeling as though any problems they had would put my head on the chopping block. Is it possible that I’m overprotective of my parents?

After 30+ hours of airports and airplanes, they arrived in Chiang Mai early on Thursday morning. Erin and I made the trek to the city to see them Friday, after school. I couldn’t take my usual nap on the bus ride there. Were they doing okay? Had Mom’s bladder exploded from refusing to squat? Had Dad landed himself in a Thai prison with his wild hand gestures and strong political views? The two arrived at the Arcade Station to pick us up with their driver . . .yes driver. Let me explain. My parents have befriended the sweet Thai woman who owns a Thai restaurant in Nashua. It turns out that this is the best friendship that has ever happened to them. Ae’s brother lives in Chiang Mai, working as a professor at the university. He lives on an amazing piece of property just outside of the city limits, and let’s just say that the guy has some serious cake. He has ensured that my parents are completely looked after and comfortable, hooking them up with drivers, all the Thai fruit they can eat, and an itinerary jam-packed with wat visiting, elephant riding, and market shopping.

“This is Mi, our driver, isn’t he so cute?” said Mom after embracing her long-lost daughter. I could tell by her beaming smile that I had been completely off the mark. She was having the time of her life! Mi drove us back to our guest house for the weekend (funded by Mom and Dad) and I could immediately see why. This was nothing like the Jonadda Guesthouse, where Erin and I usually call home in Chiang Mai. There was a garden in the lobby, free snacks galore, and an owner who loved chatting, (perfect for Dad!). Erin and I dropped our bags in our lovely room, (we’ve both become experts at sharing a big bed without invading each other’s personal bubbles,) and Dad went upstairs to freshen up. Dad freshened for quite a while, and then he came downstairs wearing a pair of ridiculous ‘play pants’ (in Emily language) or ‘fisherman’s pants’ that he’d picked up at the local market, pretending that he would be going to dinner in them. Ha. Although I’m immune to his practical jokes after dealing with them for 23+ years, I was pleased to see him embracing Thai fashion!
The four of us shared a delicious traditional Northern Thai dinner consisting of somtam, nam prik ong, green curry, pad gapaow, and sticky rice. Aroy maak maak! Mom and Dad thoroughly enjoyed each and every dish Erin and I threw at them! Of course we completed the evening with some roti, Thai fried dough with chocolate and bananas.

A theme of the weekend seemed to be “buy, buy, buy.’ You see, things in Thailand are cheap, very cheap. Erin and I usually pay 25 baht for dinner in Hangchat (about 75 cents) each night. 5 baht (15 cents) can buy you a large bottle of water, or even a bag of doughnuts. In Chiang Mai, things are not so cheap, but 200 baht (about 6 dollars) can still buy you a shirt, skirt, or a pretty awesome chotchke. For Mom and Dad, this means everything is free. For Erin and I, who are on Thai salaries , everything is not free, and we must control our compulsive spending. As it turns out, Mom + Dad + baht = hilarity. Dad would pull out a handful of one-baht coins, and say to Erin, “these are useless, right?” No Dad! You can get yourself a treat or a fruit with those! 400 baht for a table cloth? “Louise, we have to.” 9-tiered teak candle holder? How could one live without such a vital decoration. Mom would often pull out her wallet full of baht, and flash it around as if it was a fistful of nickels. “What’s this green one?” As Erin says, “It’s just monopoly money to them.”

My Thai bargaining skills only made them feel better about their spending. They were getting a deal on all of their crap! “Em, come here, come here, come here, I need you. I want to buy this T-shirt. I want it cheaper.” After buying a handicraft, Mom would get all excited and think that the sellers were her friends! It seemed she thought that they were only lowering prices for her. Ohh, Mom. Let’s just say that after visiting three markets over the course of the weekend, many pairs of ridiculous pants and piles of chotch were bought and Erin is now a Thai art collector. Mom and Dad are horrible influences.

Besides the shopping, we also went on a pah-jahn-pie (adventure) to beautiful Doi Inthanon, the highest mountain in Thailand. Dad had read in a guide book that the mountaintop is great for bird-watching, and despite his attention deficit issues, it’s become an interest of his in recent years. Alas, no birds were seen. Sorry, Dad. Dad did, however, find someone to have ridiculous conversations with in Jarran, our driver for the day. Enjoy this video of an attempted crossing of the language barrier.
Sunday was a day of massages. At the market, the girls got foot massages and sipped fruit shakes. Then, back at the guesthouse, Dad, Erin, and I got Thai massages. Sabai, sabai. I should add that Dad had two Thai massages in three days. Someone might be getting spoiled . . .

The two are currently in Phuket lounging at the beach. As I wrangled escaping 14 year olds back into the classroom this morning, I was more than slightly jealous of them. They’ll get theirs, though. They will arrive in Hangchat on Sunday. I’ve trained the students to say “Mr. Duval, Mrs. Duval. How are you?” Lund Dang, one of our favorite Hangchat cooks, is already preparing a special menu for them. Something tells me that their pah-jahn-pie is just beginning . . .