Dear friends,
It is a cool July night here - the latest of many - in a spell of exceptional weather that we’ve had the past week. Think a sky full of clouds, substantial breezes, 23-degree mornings and mild afternoons - it almost makes the past two months of blistering, sometimes 40-degree heat feel like they never happened. It’s funny, even mystifying to have weather like this in the midst of a reported European heatwave. France and Spain have hit temperatures in the mid-40s, and other parts of Europe are also experiencing bizarre highs.
Our intern, Rozi from Hungary, says that heatwaves aren’t uncommon in Europe over summer (I assumed the weather was always pleasant in Europe, think ‘Sound of Music’-esque sweet blue skies and light sweater weather…oops), but that temperatures this high are out of the ordinary. Similarly, to have mid-year weather like this in Thailand, though enjoyable, isn’t the norm. As we would, my dad and I immediately concluded that this was the result of climate change. All signs point to that (and so does BBC reporting, but I’ll admit that our perspectives do tend to skew that way. We have, optimistically, “five years to save ourselves from climate change”, which should underscore the severity of the problem.
I’ve had this conversation with some friends before. How do you feel when you read news like this? How are you dealing with the end of the world as we know it? Depression and apathy, steeped in self-awareness, are the most common responses. What can we do about the end of the world as we know it? It’s coming at us, regardless of whether we stop using disposables, quit our jobs, go vegan, or stop wasting food. I have no answers or comforting words - like passengers on a sinking ship, I guess the best consolation is that we’re all in this together. Well, I take some of that back. I don’t have solutions, but I do have an answer, if I speak only for myself. But I’ll save that for another lengthy Instagram post when I feel fired up enough to write one (lol). If you’re curious, I think it’s a perspective best articulated through a conversation, since they go two ways. If you are reading this, I’d enjoy having this conversation with you any time :)
Yesterday, we collected my Thai work permit from the ministry. So it’s official! I have a long-term pass to stay and work in Thailand for a year, renewable annually. It sounds more exciting than it is - just the next step in a process that has been moving with one foot in front of the other. This time last year, I was just about to leave my CSR job to “do what I wanted” and “use my time for myself” (lol). That seemed to mean figuring my life out between helping out with my family’s projects in Thailand, food-rescuing (and other food-related volunteering) in Singapore, exploring a freelance writing career, walking dogs and maybe anything else that popped up along the way.
Over the next few months, quite gradually, my life and work have gravitated to Thailand. Have you seen an observatory telescope, shifting to meet its mark, drawn by an incomprehensible pull of physics to the dot in the sky that it’s been appointed to find? That’s how I’ve felt up to this point, if I had to put it into words. Shifting purposefully, without a clear direction, but in the knowing pursuit of a cosmic objective. Okay, so now it sounds like a big deal, but it isn’t, and definitely not worthy of congratulations. Though a sigh of relief is in order - this means no more visa runs (and less flights! hooray), at least for a year.
Speaking of flights - okay, I lied. (QUIZ TIME: How many self-contradictions can you spot in this email? Lolol). I’ll be in Singapore from 9-21 July - we’re moving house, and coming home to settle the last dribs and drabs of moving. I’ve shamelessly announced this on social media already, but I think it’s okay to be shameless about wanting to see your friends. If you have some time over those 12 days, let’s hang out :D
I miss Singapore for two things (in no order of importance): 1) the food (because its familiar and comforting) and 2) the people (well, largely for the same reasons). It’s nice to be in a 50-km radius of my friends, family, and the ability to exist casually and comfortably in my first language.
I think language has been my greatest barrier to settling in fully here. It’s not even really a barrier, which may tell you about the openness and ease of Thai society. But really - we had some interns from Nanyang Polytechnic here for 3 months, during which they picked up enough Thai to order food and tease the staff and each other. Enough to get by at the convenience store and then some, but not enough to hold a conversation or understand local speakers’ banter. Still, during these months, they managed to charm multiple food-sellers, become close friends with our Thai staff, and I think one of them even had a fling with a local girl. So if you’re the right kind of person, language may help you get by, but you don’t really need it to bond with people.
I don’t think I’m that kind of person, or at least I don’t carry it off with such ease. Well, charming hawker aunties is a job largely reserved for adolescent boys, so it doesn’t count (I’ve tried many times over the years and have never been able to get an extra serving of rice or begedil (delicious Malay potato cake) for free, so I’m giving up). Language and words, the written and spoken, are how I usually tell people who I am, how I am, what I want, what I don’t want, and the like. I do communicate things nonverbally - through body language, facial expressions, or silence - but in my conscious mind, words are how I create myself in the world. But it’s a blessing in disguise - the harder it is to communicate, the more I want to improve my Thai, and the more I have to learn to be myself, even without words. The former is straightforward; the latter I’m still figuring out.
A day on from when I started writing this email, rain has come and with it a persistent wind and the smell of fresh soil. I guess that’s why it’s been cool and gloomy all week - it’s been leading up to this rainstorm. I’m not complaining; it’s lovely. The wintry weather has me bundled up in a jacket and sipping a hot drink. Still, it means it’s time for this letter to end.
Thanks for reading all the way through (if you got here), and I’ll try to keep the frequency of these letters to fortnightly. It’s good writing practice for my otherwise rusty self, and believe it or not, writing letters really helps to bring you back to the present moment.
All my love,
Hui Ran