Thailand Dreaming

I am sentimental about Thailand.

My first introduction to this country of fascinating contradictions dates back to when I was twelve, when my devil-may-care father took me with him to Bangkok on a night train and opened my eyes to her endless possibilities.

Many decades have passed since; life has long lost its sheen. But Thailand has continued to thrill and inspire. This is the country I return to every year, like a migratory bird, to write. It is here that I am most inspired to spin tales. When I lie down at night in the midst of uh-oh-ing tokay geckos and serenading crickets, dreams of tropical serenity come to me. I awake at dawn filled to the brim with inspiration.

Thailand’s charms are multi-faceted: the sweltering but liberating heat that instantly consigns all memories of harsh winter to oblivion; the Epicurean approach to food; the sapphire waves rolling beneath an azure sky; the gentle humility and quiet manners of the people that make every stranger feel instantly at home. Every aspect of Thai culture is designed to make one appreciative of life.

My trip to Kuraburi (some 200 km north of Phuket) last week was different from all my previous visits. It was a school-related affair and I had seventeen young men and women in tow. A beach holiday it was not. We did community work and learnt about the local way of living (though we did surrender ourselves to a beach or two). For the first time I got to view Thailand through the eyes of those who were new to her. What I saw was a remarkable freshness, a welcomed surprise that reminded me of my twelve-year-old self, of my first love affair with the country. The students I had with me were disarmed by the lush nature and the genuine open-heartedness of the locals – and by the end of the trip, they wished they could stay on and on in this incorruptible Shangri-La. The fact that we were invited to participate in the Magha Puja procession at the local temple heightened the surrealism of it all. Buddhism and its promise of everlasting peace and nothingness let us taste – even if it was only for a few fleeting minutes – the sweet ecstasy of deliverance.

Of course we knew not all was beauty and perfection. There was widespread poverty that meant a certain struggle to acquire even the simplest necessities. There were orphans who needed the charity and love of strangers to get ahead in life. There were widows who had to make a living for themselves after the tsunami of 2004 had taken away their husbands. These are all the rough edges of life, but they are made bearable by the communal spirit of Thai society. No-one is left to suffer alone – and that is what we all felt and saw during the seven days we were there.

We flew out of the country in a half-dream, having caught a glimpse of the Idyllic Ideal, desperate to hang on to it before it dissipated with distance. But even now that we have returned to our mundane realities thousands of miles away, Thailand will continue to haunt our dreams with her heartbreaking sunsets, urging us to return to her.