What do you do when you miss someone? Write them? Send an IM? Call? I'd do anything just to have one more moment with my mom. I miss her voice. Miss her laugh. Miss everything about her!
Mommy, are you sad?
Yes, my son. I miss lola so much.
Mommy, I know! Pretend that I'm your mommy, okay? Give me a hug, mommy! Pretend that I'm lola!
*Hugs*
Mommy, are you still sad? Think of heaven okay? Jesus will bring us to heaven soon, and we won't be sad anymore!
My Roo! My sweet, sweet Roo! More *hugs*
We had just passed one Officer who asked us point blank what kind of food we had in our bags. Wracking my brain for a mental picture of what I packed into the bag three weeks before, I rattled off a list from the top of my head. Dry instant noodles, ready-to-eat instant soup, biscuits, crackers, chips, sweet treats. The Officer wrote them all, one by one on my declaration form. And I thought that was that.
It was not so. At the end of our queue, another Customs Officer was opening bags and looking through them thoroughly. I suddenly had this sinking feeling that I was in trouble! My heart started beating fast. My mind raced. What if I missed something? What will they do to us if we brought something we did not declare? Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, I breathed a prayer up. My memory can NOT fail me. NOT now. Pleeeaase.
The Officer rummaged through the bag carrying our food and pulled out a bar of cheese. Oh my Eden cheese! I should have listened to MY man. It wouldn't have taken that much trouble to open the bag and check if we forgot something. But I didn't want to do it. Hardheaded me. Now what?!
The Officer looked through the list on his hand, looked us in the eye, and asked, “WHAT is this?” Why is this cheese not in the list?”
"Officer, I'm sorry. I forgot that I packed cheese into the bag."
Sounded so lame I regretted saying it. But what else can I say? That I had so many things in my mind all this time, got caught up with all the wedding preparations, and the wedding itself, that I forgot I had packed a small bar of cheese in one of the bags?
Guilty. That's what I was. I had no excuse. They gave me plenty of time to think. The Customs form was given to me in the plane a good hour before landing. Sure, it did not specifically spell out c-h-e-e-s-e, but it did say “dairy” products. What’s more, from the moment we stepped into
What?! You say? Bring cheese to cheese country? Like bringing chilli into Thailand? I know it sounds absurd. But you see, MY man and I were on our honeymoon, and we were supposed to drive out to the countryside, away from civilization, and we wanted to make sure the food situation would be taken care of. I had tossed that cheese in without much thought and I had completely forgotten all about it! It was one of those stuff from home that my parents brought over when they came for the wedding, and I missed eating that particular brand of cheese. Never imagined it would bring us THIS much trouble. Nice way to start our honeymoon eh?
A grim-looking Officer walked us to his office, sat us down, and very patiently explained why it was important for us to obey their laws. This is the first time I'm apprehended for breaking the law. I felt like a criminal. If only my chair could swallow me up. I apologized to the Officer, admitted our wrongdoing, and asked if it was possible for him to excuse the offense. Sir, can you like just throw the cheese away and we promise we will not do this again?
Yeah right. Commit an offense and not take the punishment? Well, I had to ask! Hoping for grace, I appealed to the Officer to 'forgive' our mistake. But he was no God and a fine is a fine. We have broken the law and we have to bear the punishment. All he could assure us was that it would not appear in our records.
With a heavy heart, I counted out two hundred NZ dollars. The price of a twenty-peso cheese sneaked into their country. A lesson on responsibility and accountability slammed down my throat to swallow. Quite an expensive lesson to learn but you bet it was well-learned!
Next time I go to cheese country, I bring no cheese ;D
When I was small, on my birthdays, I remember waking up to a bunch of lansones, among other presents, at the foot of my bed. I remember jumping up and squealing with delight at the sight of my favorite fruit which I can eat to my heart's content only on my birth month. My heart was content and happy, sharing that precious moment with my family who would gather around, share my lansones, and sing happy birthday to me.
No more of that. No more lansones waiting for me to wake up. No more mommy to celebrate my birthday with me. My heart is heavy and extremely sad just spilling that thought out.
At the same time, my heart sings with joy just being able to wake up! Not to a bunch of lansones (although I do miss the part of being with my family). But to a shower of kisses from a smiling little Roo. With his final smack, he declared in his sweetest voice, "I love you, Mommy!" Then he hugged me tight and whispered, "You are special to me, Mommy!" (after a sec, he continued to explain in case I didn't get it, That's another way of saying, "I like you, mommy.")
Happy. I am happy. Happy birthday to me!
Flowers greeted me when I came out of the bedroom to start my day. 
Surprise, surprise! MY man gave me his birthday gift last night so I didn't expect anything else from him. He must have gotten up really early to get them, and still be on time for work. Thank God for MY wonderful man! He sure made my morning as bright and as happy as old times.
Now, I have to go and sing happy birthday with my boy. He insists that I sing with him so I can "blow the flowers." Haha!
p.s. I wanted to post pictures of the flowers but I can't find the cable to download them. Will do that later.
"Where, mommy, where?" Roo caught my excitement and craned his neck, leaning towards me as far as his seat belt would allow. He had been just as excited at the beginning of our drive, singing loudly along with Veggie Tales, raising his legs alternately to the beat of the music. But as time passed and no sign of our destination appeared, he had mellowed down, settled in his car seat, and quietly gazed at the passing scenery.
Seeing and being amidst nature on Sabbath day. Perfect! God’s beautiful creation has its way of making me forget the normal routines of everyday life. It is refreshing to be far from the hustles and bustles of city life. Nature allows me time to think. Time to listen closely to the still small voice of God.
About midmorning, we arrived at our favorite hang-out. The hotel we usually stayed at is just about a couple hundred meters away, but we usually played at this beach either in the early mornings, or late evenings. This is the first time we're there in the middle of the day. The sun was shining bright above us. We grabbed our umbrella, adorned our little Roo in his long sleeved shirt, hat, and sunglasses, and headed towards the chairs.
At almost every beach in Thailand, you will find these reclining chairs, set under huge and shady umbrellas. Depending on which beach you go to, the rent ranges from Bht.20 - 40 ($0.60 - 1.30). And if you get hungry, food is not a problem. The people renting the the chairs out usually hand you a menu the moment you sit down. You can choose to order food from them, or you can bring your own food and just rent the chairs.
Roo was soon engrossed in his own imaginary world with his beach toys. He lost no time in scooping sand into his bucket and molds, looking up every now and then to show us what he was making. MY man took out his camera and started clicking away. I silently praised God for this wonderful opportunity of spending quiet time with Him and my family at my most favorite place in the world: the beach.
When I finally settled in my chair to soak in the view, I couldn’t help but breathe out a “Wow!” The sight of the ocean never fails to take my breath away and today was no exception. The ocean waters sparkled blue and green in the bright sunshine. White, fluffy clouds dotted the clear blue sky that stretched above the waters for miles and miles like there was no end to it. Every now and then, a white seagull would swoop into the waters then soar back into the sky oh so gracefully! The sound of the waves lapping on the shore soon loosened up all my tense muscles, making me drowsy and sleepy!
Vendors walked by every few minutes. You would not believe the things they peddle on the beach! Sure, there was the usual fried seafood packed full in styrofoam plates. Some vendors sold fruits and nuts. A masseuse with her son tagging along sauntered by and offered her services to the tourists. A man approached us with a folder full of tattoo designs and asked if we wanted one. If you forgot your sunglasses, you need not run back to your car, or your hotel for that matter, for they were selling those too! In case you did not bring your watch, and would want one right now, you bet they had those for sale too! And would you care to buy paintings of beautiful sceneries for your living room at home?
The beach was practically deserted although we were not alone. There’s this group of friends chatting and eating together right behind us. A couple of umbrellas to the right behind were a dad and a son preparing to go for a dip in the waters. At the far end, there were a few tourists either relaxing in their chairs or sunning themselves on the sand. A couple was enjoying themselves swimming in the ocean. Other than that, the place was surprisingly (and wonderfully!) peaceful and serene.
We talked to the lady renting out the chairs and asked her if it was always this quiet here. She shook her head vigorously and said that business is bad for them now. She related that usually at this time of the year, tourists flock the place. But because of the political unrest, tourists have chosen not to come and now their business is down. Bad for them, but good for us. One man's loss can truly be another man's gain.
How I wished the day would not end. But like the narrator in Roo's favorite video says, "All stories must come to an end." Here's the perfect ending to our perfect Sabbath day at Pattaya!
More beach pictures on MY man's tabblo.
Thailand is not called the Land of Smiles for nothing. Anywhere you go in Thailand, you interact with the Thai people and you yourself will make that same conclusion: Thailand IS the Land of Smiles.
Like everybody else, Thai people smile when they're happy and pleased. But unlike everybody else, Thais also smile when they're anything but happy. Smiles don their faces when they're sad. Even they're upset or boiling mad, smiles will still flash from their face. They smile when they're frustrated. They smile when they are embarrassed. And they smile when they don't have a single clue as to what you are talking about.
Part of My man's work in the hospital involves dealing with the problems that international patients bring up before, during, or after their treatment/experience in the hospital. Many a time My man would come home and tell me how this patient came storming into their office, screaming at the top of his lungs that the hospital staff did not, or does not, understand him. Of course the patient knows he is in Thailand and tried to explain what he wanted to say in English very s-l-o-w-l-y. Of course he repeated it when the staff did not understand him the first time. The second time. The more the patient tried to get himself understood, the angrier he got. Why???
I am bl**dy @#$% ANGRRRY! WHYYYY is he SMILING!!!
Welcome to the Land of Smiles. Where a smile can mean I like you. Or I'm going to kill you!
Foreigners have to understand that when Thai people smile, it does not necessarily mean they are happy. In the case of these hospital staff smiling at irate patients, they are just at a loss of what to say, or what to do. They either did not understand a single thing the patient was trying to say, or they don't know how to make themselves understood. Many times they experience mental block. They do not know how to communicate and express themselves in English. Their second language, a language they so desperately try to learn. And so they just smile. Not to insult or offend the patient, but because they have "run out" of words in English, and they just are beside themselves, not knowing how else to resolve the problem before them.
Having been here in Thailand for more than a decade now, I understand the Thai people and their inability to express themselves in English. But still many times, when I'm on the other side of the table, and frustratingly getting myself misunderstood, their smile still get into my nerves. I don't even have to see the smile. On the phone, it comes across as "Yes, sir. Yes Sir!" (this I don't mind--I have long accepted that sometimes I am a Sir to Thai people). Or "Ah, excuse me Sir..."
"Good morning. I'm calling to check on my credit card payment. I paid the bill yesterday."
Ah, excuse me Sir...did you pay already?
"Yes, I paid online yesterday. Will there be charges for my late payment?"
Ah, excuse me Sir...today you pay at the bank?
"No, I did not pay at the bank. I paid---"
Ah, excuse me Sir. The bank forward your payment to us tomorrow. Your payment come in tomorrow.
"Yes, I understand. Do I have to---"
Ah, excuse me, excuse me. Tomorrow I call you. Okay?
Sigh.
What do you do? Smile? The Thai way?
If you can, smile. If you can't, do what I did. Wait. Till you can.
Smile! :D
I knew it was coming. I had seen a special twinkle in his eyes every time he gazes into mine. His hugs have been getting tighter, and his kisses had been so much sweeter. Never a day goes by without him letting me know that he wants me. No doubt he was obviously head over heels in love with me.
The other night, he wouldn't let anyone else come near me. I couldn't touch anyone else except him either. He made sure he had me safe on his side. He was insistent in his demands, "I love only you! You love only me too, okay?"
That was enough to tell me something was boiling. I had this feeling that something was going to pop up soon. But I didn't expect it to come this soon.
Just before bedtime last night, i can't even remember what exactly I was doing, he suddenly grabbed me, put his arms around my neck, and made his declaration. Facing the mirror right over our headboard, smiling at our reflection, he embraced me and said: "I want to marry you. I like you!"
Then as if afraid that he hasn't made himself clear enough, he looked at his dad, tightened his arms around me, and reiterated what he said, "Daddy, I want to marry mommy!"
At first his daddy didn't know what to say. When he recovered, he burst out laughing, and asked, "Really?! Why do you want to marry mommy?
Matter-of-factly, our little Roo replied, "Because I like mommy so much, daddy! I love mommy right up to the moon, and back, and back, and back, and back!"
My second proposal. Never imagined another being could love me as much as My man does--enough to propose marriage. My little one has understood the concept of marriage: when you love and like someone very much, you want to marry her and be with her.
Forever.
My man and my dear Roo, you guys have my whole heart! I love you both right up to the moon and back, and back, and back and back!
One thing about not being in your own country, even if you're old and sick, you still have to come to the Immigration. I mused out loud to My man, as we stood outside the Immigration Building, at seven-thirty yesterday morning. Ahead of us on the queue, was an elderly couple. The man, perhaps in his late seventies, was on a wheelchair, and his wife, about his age, pushed him towards the chairs. Good thing they were allowed entry into the building, to sit down and wait there, while the rest of us, lined up outside the door.
Like I said last year (see this post), you never know what to expect when you arrive at the Immigration. Last year, I got to be the third person on a line in front of the counter where they give out queue numbers, but that was inside the building. This time, we had to queue outside the door, and wait for them to open it, which they did a few minutes after the flag-raising at eight am. As soon as they opened the doors, everybody scrambled in to line up again at the counter, to get our queue numbers. My number: 909. 10 persons waiting ahead of me.
The waiting gave me and My man some time to talk. It's very seldom that we get to talk uninterrupted by a little Roo. My man planned his strategies for next year's visa renewal: Since he wakes up early, he'd go ahead and make sure he's first on the line, get a number, then I can just come later (they open the offices at 8:30 am and start calling numbers around nine am anyways.) We discussed several business opportunities that could be feasible around and inside the Immigration. Breakfast is one. We surmised most people who were there early, like us, didn't have time to eat. Photocopy and photograph services is another. There's always one more document that you forget to photocopy, and your old ID picture may not pass their scrutiny. Or maybe A Queue Number to Your Liking business! We'll hire someone to be there early, get as many numbers as possible for all kinds of visa needs, and provide them to people at a fee! That would work for people like me who'd pay for a few more winks of sleep :D Another thing that would definitely reap profits is a parking lot. Parking at the Immigration is next to impossible when you get there late. You'll just have to drive around and around the parking lot until you get lucky and somebody drives out.
Sigh. Why is it that when you're waiting, time ticks by ever so slowly? My man had already run out of things to talk about, and got himself busy with his phone game. I craned my neck to check on the officers--they were all seated at their desks, behind their brand-new computers, all looking busy. The woman on my right was leafing through her documents, over and over, every now and then checking on the electronic device in front of us, to see if it's working. Right next to her, was a dark-haired boy, about two years old, whining for one more treat from his mom. There was a black guy in front of us sitting and talking quietly with a Thai lady. Beside them, sat a family of Caucasians. The mom was constantly playing referee between her little boy and his sister, who were amusing themselves by taking turns tickling each other's neck.
Number nine hundred. Counter number 20. The electronic device finally found its voice! It was now nine am. The lady beside me, obviously an agent processing visas for other people, had left her seat a while back and gone ahead to talk to the officers without being called. A tall, white man in his flip-flops came and sat down. I glanced at his passport. Deutsche. His number: 958.
Photographs, check. Photocopies: Marriage contract, passport, birth certificate, Thai ID, house registration, check. Map! See, I told you. I can never get all these documents right.
Nine hundred nine. Counter number 21. My man and I greeted the officer with a wai, and handed her our documents. She gave My man an A4 paper and asked him to draw a map indicating where we live. She checked the family pictures we submitted and compared them with her file of last year's pictures. Hmm, they can monitor my little Roo's growth here. Sign here, sign there. You pay 1900 baht khah. Stamp, stamp. She gave me back my passport and on it: 16 September 2008. I am to go back next month for the results.
Whew! My man and I chuckled in relief as we drove away and this black Honda Accord behind us swiftly drove into the precious parking spot.
