Jon Esau
“The opinions expressed by the Tabor College EML student bloggers and those providing comments are theirs alone, and do not reflect the opinions of Tabor College. Tabor College is also not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information in the post.”
It was the Christmas season and snow was starting to fall. . . somewhere in the world. . . but not where I was. It was a few months after had we moved to the CRAZY hot country of Thailand. I mean, I craved a sunny holiday in the middle of the Canadian winters, but now I was ready to tap out. I was ready for snow, for hot cocoa, and for the feeling of a cold nose after being out too long on a snowy day.
Everything in our world was no longer familiar. We went from having two vehicles and freedom and independence to go anywhere. . . anytime. . . to owning two bicycles and having a travelling distance of about a 10 km radius around our house. Even our “bathroom routines” needed to change based on the “set-ups” that presented themselves.
So, as my family and I entered the Christmas season, we decided we were going to do something familiar. That meant setting up Christmas lights on our house, in our little ghetto neighborhood (even though our neighbors had never seen anything like it before). And, of course, decorating the inside of the house to give the familiar comforts of the Christmas season.
This meant scouting out (in our 10 km radius) a store that actually sold Christmas trees, in a country that doesn’t celebrate Christmas. With our 2 year old in the bike seat attached to my bike and a pregnant wife riding her own bike, we found a store that actually sold Christmas trees (of the fake variety and only 5 feet tall). I mean, I come from Northern Canada where you walk out your front door, go 50 meters into the bush and just cut down your own, perfect Christmas tree. Now I am looking at a fake tree that I could put the star on top of with my teeth!
Excited at the reality we faced (we actually found a Christmas tree!!!), we quickly purchased the tree, drunk on our excitement, only to walk out of the store, with many other goods in tow, suddenly remembering that we had to get it all home on our 2 bicycles! Now this 5 foot tree seemed bigger than I actually wanted!
Strapping as much as I could to Bonnie’s bike, I ended up with the tree under my arm as we biked home along one of the busiest roads in Chiang Mai. Then we were faced with crossing this insane road. . . in rush hour traffic! It was a real life version of “Frogger!” Bonnie couldn’t get her bike, which was loaded down with groceries, across on her own (she was pregnant, remember?). So I brought Callie and the tree across first. I pulled her out of her seat, put the bike and the tree down and coached my two year old on the art of not moving AT ALL! Praying that she would listen, I ran back across to help Bonnie get across with her bike and all the other valuable goods we bought.
Avoiding a perilous death, we arrived safe and sound at home. After completing our Christmas decorating, our neighbors asked a ton of questions (and gave us a few weird looks), but this was the taste of home we needed.
Have you ever done anything out of desperation for normalcy? Was it worth it?