We pretended a little, but all together it was a lovely Thanksgiving in Thailand.

We headed out this morning to enjoy coffee at a newly discovered, best-coffee-in-town shop. We took our bicycles, the wind was blowing, and it was actually a little chilly. I had to hold down my skirt in the wind, and I biked through a few leaves blowing to the ground. It was just a split second of fall, and I cherished it.

We’re doing all we can to convince ourselves of the holiday, since it feels like never-ending June here: we bought some fallish-looking flowers from the market; we’re watching through all the Friends Thanksgiving episodes; we had pumpkin bread for breakfast. Stephen has even let us begin listening to Christmas music in an effort to bring on the holiday spirit!

We went to join some of the Partners staff and local Karen for a Thanksgiving celebration and birthday. It was a mix of traditional Thanksgiving foods–turkey, rolls, sweet potatoes, green beans, pumpkin pie–and a few less traditional items–bruschetta, apple pie, and cheesecake. I helped to make rolls, green bean casserole, scalloped corn, and pumpkin pie. It was quite a lot to make, not only for a group of twenty-five, but to start from scratch. Green bean casserole required actually chopping green beans, mushrooms, onions, and garlic; Stephen even helped to deep-fry some crispy onions for topping. We chopped a 5 kilogram pumpkin earlier this week and used half of it for the pies today.

I loved making the scalloped corn: that was my favorite growing up, and my it’s-not-a-holiday-without-it. We had to shuck the corn and then cut off the kernels, which I loved. We used to have whole days of cutting corn off the cob when we lived on the farm. We got to move the television into the kitchen and watch more than our one-hour-per-day usual while we chopped corn all day.

The feast was such fun, though.  They asked Stephen to share a little of why we celebrate Thanksgiving, and it was fun to have him tell of how the Native Americans and settlers “shared a meal even if they couldn’t speak the same language.” We did the same today, and it was lovely. Our boss kept saying, “Sorry! No rice today!”

Stephen was a little concerned about the size of the plates.

Stephen slipped up at work a few weeks back and started a story with, “Yesterday our kids…”

Whoops.

This is Yuh Meh Oo. And this week, she’s been around our house more than usual.

She has been watching us from the door shouting, “Kelli! Teacher! Kelli!” until one of us pokes our head out to wave. And then within a minute or two she’s shouting again.

She stood at the kitchen door and watched me cook for so long yesterday. She watched me, and then began to ask for food. She moves her hand to her mouth and smiles, so sweetly.

I had given her orange a few weeks ago while she watched me cook, just to be nice. I started to think this was backfiring, and she was just going to ask for food every time she watched me cook.

All the theories of political science and international development began rolling through my mind, along with “if you give a mouse a cookie…”

I shook my head no and turned back to stir together the marinade for the Greek chicken we’d be having for dinner.

And then Matthew 25 began to roll through my mind. “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me a drink…Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.”

And this was so much louder than the theories.

What if she was actually hungry? What if, out of sheer theory of things potentially going wrong in the long run of development, I turn away one beautiful, hungry little girl? How could I welcome her into my yard to play with dolls, but refuse her food?  How can I stir together a marinade while she’ll be grateful for a dinner of rice and fish paste?

I turned to give her a banana. And I’ve been pondering it ever since.

I was reading Restless Souls a few weeks ago, and the author described a character, “His face rearranged itself into a huge grin.”

That is Pu Pu. Yes, her name is Pu Pu. She loves hugs and runs up to us when we arrive home. She’s quite straight faced at first, and its only the running toward you that makes you think she’s excited. But then she’ll look up you, and a huge grin breaks onto her face. Her whole face changes; it rearranges itself.

And it’s beautiful. She looks just like her mother.

We stopped for lunch one day at a Thai restaurant in Chiang Mai. You know it’s a good restaurant when the menu is worthy of it’s own blog post.

…what?

…And then we took Chris & Jenn to Chiang Mai, just in time for the Loi Krathong light festival! Chiang Mai is the city of parties–they love to celebrate every holiday, and they love to have celebrations continue for days or weeks longer than the rest of the country.

Can you see how many millions of these are up in the sky all around us?  It was amazing.

Can you also see how many million people were around us?  That was not as amazing, I have to say.

There was something really beautiful, though, in the anticipation of it all. You had to hold the lantern while the heat filled it, and then it just lifted away so gracefully. It is a representation of sins being sent off, similar to the scape goat that was sent out of the Jewish communities to carry the sin of the whole group off into the wilderness. Even amongst the large crowds, there was a sense of community as everyone collectively sought restoration. It reminds us how similar we are as people, as souls; how similar our aches and faults and pains really are.

Sometimes Asians like to pose for photos.  Jenn had the idea of copying the odd poses that we saw. Nevermind that we didn’t get the pose exactly right, and the bottom of her foot, aimed directly at my face, would actually be the equivalent of flipping me off in this country.

Amidst quite a few days of shopping and eating good food, we did a few tourist-y things. We climbed Doi Suthep, a big mountain West of Chiang Mai, with a large temple at the top. We also went to the Night Safari, where I absolutely loved seeing the giraffes, zebras, and squirrel monkeys. We got to pet some, including the elephants.

[Please disregard the pregnant-looking nature of my dress. With great joy I can tell it’s still just the two of us, one of which is still not great with style.]

A favorite was visiting the snake farm. It was terrifying. It started with a tour to see the caged snakes–some of which were still lacking some security.

Do you see the two ginormous pythons in this cage?  They were as big around as my thigh, slithering around while the rusty lock hung loose.

Other cages were locked, with the key hooked just around the side. All we needed were a group not as terrified as we were to start a new kind of tourist attraction.

After looking around, we went to the “show” — two locals playing with venomous snakes while one commentated to the Rocky theme. All the while, a sign hung above reading, “While, The Show, Please be Seated! If There is any danger, We will not be responsible.”

Yes, he is playing with a King Cobra. And then he showed us the venom that was in fact inside.

They invited us to come take a photo with a python. I was bravely the first to volunteer!  Chris followed a little after.

Stephen & Jenn took a little more convincing, but these two guys weren’t in to you not participating.

They faked out the crowd and threw a rope at us. I screamed. In my defense, they had already swung a King cobra and python at us, so it wasn’t too far beyond them to actually throw a snake!

And I can’t say I was the most scared; I’m not sure that pit stain will ever come out of her shirt 🙂

We had a really wonderful time with Chris & Jenn visiting. It was overwhelming in some ways: I kept telling them that this is our Narnia, which we’ve experienced wholly and described to the best of our ability while no one has experienced it with us; they are left to our descriptions and photos and perspectives.

And although their coming in some ways made it all more real, it also made us much more vulnerable. We moved our lives here; and our work, our home, our town have all become very personal. They’ve become a choice.

I must say, though–it was the best good bye ever, and probably will always stand to be. I didn’t have to shed one tear knowing that I was only saying goodbye for four weeks, when I’ll be given another hug in another airport with more family around us!