Whatta Day

Whatta day

It’s Buddhist lent (which to my understanding has something to do with not trampling rice paddies) so I didn’t have to go to work. Had I known about this four day weekend in advance, I could have planned a fabulous trip somewhere but I discovered this holiday when on Friday a coworker said in passing, “so, what are you doing for the holiday?” to which I answered with a blank stare.

So anyway, I’m free as a bird except for my Thai lessons so I woke up early enough to go on a jog without pollution asphyxiating me, the sun roasting me, and too many people staring since people here really don’t jog. Everything was going so smoothly! I took a cab to a vegetarian restaurant for lunch (a girl can only eat so much pork) and then walked to a temple to check out their ‘monk chat’ where you get to chill with monks and speak in English for a few hours. I decided not to take a cab home since I had no pressing appointments and wasn’t too familiar with the neighborhood I was in so it was ripe for wandering. People were especially nice to me when I walked by, saying hello without trying to get me to buy anything. I figured perhaps this part of town sees fewer foreigners.

At some point on this walk I looked down and to my horror found a major wardrobe malfunction. You see, I was wearing a wrap around shirt that I bought the first weekend I was here. It’s one of those shirts that stays closed with a little tie at the hip. This tie was a dainty sea foam green ribbon which while pretty doesn’t exactly make for a secure closure. In fact, it just sort of disintegrated and pulled right out of the shirt leaving me with nothing to keep my shirt closed. I have no idea how long my shirt had been falling off of me but I turned bright red at the prospect of it being undone at the temple! Either way I was about five miles from my house with an open shirt and no way to close it.

I tried to walk while tightly squeezing my elbow to my hip to hold the shirt in place, readjusting as subtly as possible whenever there weren’t any pedestrians nearby. Thankfully I found a mall and ran inside to try to buy a cheapo shirt. With all the crappy discount shops that mushroom out all over Chiang Mai, lucky me I happen across a posh center with clothes that cost more than my monthly rent. I scoured the place and found a weird discount store with clothes in big bins. Please picture me trying to hold my shirt closed, a purse, and to dig through a bin Filene’s Basement style. I pulled out the first couple things that looked wearable and tried them on. To add insult to injury, the only one that fit me was a size XXXL. Super- Asia is so good for body image. I bought it quickly for two dollars and put it on in the bathroom. In my head the whole time I was composing how to explain this situation in Thai if I got stopped because the copious security guards noticed that I entered with one shirt and exited with another and assumed I was shoplifting.

Sidenote: The positive side is that the shirt is light weight which appeals to the psycho in me that is already freaked out that my luggage will be over weight. I’m taking a discount carrier for the first leg of my trip home (read romantic week at the beach) which only allows 15 kilos of luggage. I easily have 15k of books on my nightstand.

I ended up walking the five miles home in sandals which was a really bad idea but I wanted to explore the far side of town and the closer I got to my apartment the more it seemed not worth it to take a cab the rest of the way. Plus I was hoping to come across one of those ladies with sewing machines on the side of the street to fix my shirt but alas, they are only around when you don’t need them. My feet hate me now. I’m wearing socks for the first time since I arrived.

Of course the moment I walked into my Thai class my teacher told me to recount step by step the events of my day...