Today I reach a significant milestone on my journey abroad. It is exactly nine months ago that I left for Thailand. I originally intended to stay for half a year, yet here I am still. In another month I will be comfortable with referring to my total time spent in Thailand as “almost a year.”
Reaching my nine month mark obviously opens the door for pregnancy jokes. If I had gotten a girl pregnant right when I departed the US I could have been a father, and so on. Thankfully I am still single and childless after one typical gestational period. The only new addition to my life, and I guess you could call her my baby, is my motorbike. I have recently rented a flame paneled, automatic transmission, lady-magnet, Yamaha Fino.
Motorbikes are possibly more common than 4-wheeled vehicles here in Thailand, so I consider my rental of a motorbike further assimilation into the local culture. I won’t blend in with my community, I’m taller and paler than anyone for 50 miles, but at least I go with the flow. The first few times I rented a motorbike I was giddy with excitement, like a kid who goes golfing with his father only because he wants to drive the golfcart. I rented a motorbike in the usual tourist areas (Chiang Mai, Koh Phangan, etc) and drove around spotting jungles and waterfalls. Now the excitement has worn off considerably, since I drive my motorbike to school or to go pick up tooth paste from the grocery store.
Personalized floor-mat. Doraemon is kind of a big deal here.
Before leaving for Thailand I read hundreds of websites and articles about the transitional phases of living abroad. I was obnoxiously excited about my upcoming adventure, so I wanted to read as much literature as possible. Those who had lived abroad and wrote about their experiences mentioned three phases; the honeymoon, the culture shock, and complacency.
The honeymoon phase lasts for one or two weeks and comprises your first experiences in a new country. Everything is foreign and exotic, so your senses become hyper-aware and your adrenaline runs on overtime. Because of their novelty, the surrounding sights, sounds, and smells appear all the more beautiful. Witnessing an entire lane devoted to motorbike traffic seemed hip and modern the first time I came across one in Bangkok. Gas friendly vehicles, perfectly suited to zipping through tight alleys and streets, stood out during my Thai-honeymoon phase.
Culture shock arrives a few weeks to one month of living in a new place. The fresh eyes you had when landing in a country are gone, and you have spent enough time to discover some aspects you don’t like. Poorly maintained roads, little to non-existent cleanliness standards, and the inability to communicate are all aspects that wear on you. The dirty little secrets every country has and doesn’t advertise become more conspicuous when you have settled into a new location. At this point I was annoyed with the lack of traffic laws concerning motorbikes on the road. This is typically when people will feel their strongest homesick days.
And finally complacency is what is left when the culture shock wears off. Witnessing a family of four riding a single motorbike is not hilariously foreign, like in the honeymoon phase, nor appallingly dangerous, like the culture shock phase. At this point you know it’s simply the only available way your neighbors have to drive their kids to school.
I’ll admit, I am well into the complacency stage now. I don’t get excited from the sight of elephants, tuk-tuks or ancient ruins. I am used to daily cockroaches, rampant littering, and bits of bone in every piece of meat I eat. I am unfazed when I see 3 of my students riding on a single motorbike, moving in the opposite direction of traffic.
Renting a motorbike is perhaps the ultimate way to demonstrate my complacency in Thailand. I’m no longer weaving a motorbike in and out of traffic while speeding off to some jungle hot springs. Now I am running errands and scooting around like my fellow residents. I’m not over it, but I not longer am bursting at the seems with excitement.
The Journey of Andrew Cassidy 