Living In A Coup

It’s made international news. Posted on the front page of New York Times, streaming the banner of CNN. Thailand military takes control in a coup d’etat. And although you might be reading about it, hearing about it, images flashing before your eyes. . . what does it really mean?

It means freaking the fuck out. Walking down a familiar street and fellow westerners advising me that there is a curfew at 10PM. A curfew? Personally brushing it off and continuing to walk to a nearby outside bar. Talking with a friend who has spent much time in Thailand and giving me the scoop on what this is all about. The yellow shirts versus the red shirts. The rich versus the poor. And the government taking command to keep the continuous riots from escalating to civil war. Learning that during past coups there were deaths, not just some, but many. The screens at the restaurant suddenly halting the broadcasted entertainment and changing to a fixed image of the General. And all in my head being scared, living in a new country that takes freedoms and democracy very differently than the world I grew up in. Retreating home, checking my blank email box, and blowing up on my family because I am a scared little girl and no one cares about me.

It means wrapping my head around politics. Scanning through hundreds of news sources only to find I can only scratch the surface of what is really going on. Being told that they are blocking access to real sources of information (and feeling like I’m in a restrictive country like China). My brother sending me story after story from the perspective of the USA and reminding me that I was warned of the political turmoil in my new home. For the first time since College, taking the time to read word for word of fact based articles regarding the suspension of the constitution. Because guess what, it’s affecting my immediate livelihood. It’s not just world news, it’s my news. 

It means having school cancelled. Enjoying free time and a day off to take a breather and pluck myself out of the only space I’m truly living these days- my head. Sneaking into a hotel pool and practicing handstands in the water. Grabbing lunch from a nearby market that I normally don’t get to visit because I am usually working. Navigating around the city’s main lake with friends and climbing up a temple to take in a 360 view of my city. Getting a message from my school coordinator assuring me that our weekend trip will go on as planned. Because other than attractive soldiers guarding the government buildings and city mall, life goes on per usual.

It means freaking my family the fuck out.  Swallowing the situation and realizing there might be something stirring, but I can’t feel it, nor can I see it. My parents, on the other hand, waking up to scary images and stories with the situation placed on a completely cynical platform. Listening to a Whatsapp voicemail of my mother pleading me to return home. Realizing I’ve bought into the hype, after begging for attention, boasting that I’m a ghost in this scary land. Making my father’s blood pressures escalate exponentially because I had no idea what was going on (going to the worst assumptions that the red shirts will assimilate into a war). But that isn’t happening, or at least it hasn’t happened yet.

It means seeing “Real Thailand”. While my friends take advantage of their 4-day weekend and retreat to islands nearby, I head north with friends and witness things most foreigners don’t get the opportunity to see. Men fighting king cobras in a hidden village where we watch from non-crowded bleachers. Women dancing as if the snakes are ornamental necklaces, kissing these slithering creatures and letting them coil in their mouths. Staying in a guest house that overlooks an enormous dam with smoke rising from farms in the distance that are burning their harvested rice fields. Hearing rockets explode into the heavens, as legend has it this action will open the skies and bring the rain. Sharing a delicious Thai meal on our very own bamboo boat, leaving little time to digest as we jump into the warm lake full of locals enjoying common watersports. Admiring the cows in the distance that have this epic backdrop and zooming into the man balancing on his rowboat as he flings his fishnet into the air.

            Watching an orange dragonfly and saying, “I wish it would just land on me,” then giggling at the pure cosmic alignment as it flutters over to take rest on my fingertips. Climbing hundreds of stairs to take in the Buddha statue and admire the sunset from this amazing vantage point. Enjoying an intimate acoustic music show of Thai classics and bowing in grace as they sing some in my language. Not washing my face before bed because it scares me that I might scrub off this gigantic grin. Filling our picnic bag with mangosteens, lychee and fried bananas to complement our American indulgences of cheese and salsa. Hiking through a national park, gazing at the boulders filled with holes only to realize this area was once covered with water. Practicing handstands at the opening of the dam energy source, learning that Thais sell off this electricity only to buy it back from another country. And all the while feeling like this is the first time I’ve actually seen real Thailand, not just from what I read in the guidebooks, but from experiencing what most Westerners miss from this breathtaking land of smiles.

It means repeating to myself, “What Coup?”