Mika“Next weekend, we are going to plant rice at my aunt’s,” said Faith, with excitement in her voice. We were on our way to school to get our lunch like we did every day.
Faith had become my best friend in less than two months, and we always found ways to spend our free time together. Of course, my answer to her invitation was a clear “yes.”
Sunday at 6 am, we woke up to the sound of frogs breeding.
The first thing we did was to light a fire to heat water. Faith knew I couldn’t start my day without a coffee. Once the water was ready, I made my brew while Faith enjoyed a cup of Milo, a Thai version of Nesquik.
Faith’s aunt was waiting for us at 8 am, but we lingered over breakfast, chatting away as usual.
We left on her motorcycle, and the rain followed us during our short trip.
It took us only 15 minutes to reach the Thai countryside, where we were greeted by a hypnotic greenery and a girl who looked just like Faith, her welcoming smile making us feel at home.
We headed to a field where rice plants ( I called them baby rice lol ) were waiting for us to transplant them. My first task was collecting lots of plants, and transporting them along the swampy path to the new spot.
The road was muddy and watery due to the recent non-stop rain. I had to be careful not to lose my balance and fall in front of the curious eyes surrounding me.
Finally, I reached the field, covered with water, where we would deposit the plants. Faith’s aunt instructed me to take off my sneakers.
I didn’t hesitate to immerse my feet with my adorable white penguin socks in the muddy water that covered me up to my ankles.
I walked to the middle of the field, where I had to place the plants, and my hands began to work deliberately, following the instructions of others.
Two women in their fifties watched me from a distance, wondering what a farang (foreigner) was doing so far from home, planting rice.
One of the women showed Faith and me a technique to plant rice without damaging the roots.
They talked to my friend, laughed, and headed to their work. Faith translated for me, and I learned that the woman had said I was good at planting rice. My chest swelled with pride, and a smile appeared on my face.
I placed one plant after another, lost in my thoughts. I thought about my work, my family back in Argentina, and how my father would have smiled if he had seen me now.
Two hours passed, and Faith distracted me by reminding me that it was time for lunch. I looked at my hands and the ground under my feet, realizing I had finished planting.
We walked to the point chosen for the Thai picnic, and I washed my hands in the adjacent stream, hoping I wouldn’t get sick the next day.
Faith had told me the day before that I would have to eat with my hands, and I was anxious about it.
I scrubbed my skin and nails vigorously in the light brown water, thinking that something shared with so much love and happiness couldn’t hurt me.
Everyone had cooked something for the picnic, and Faith’s aunt had prepared somtam, one of my favourite Thai dishes.
They gave me my plate of rice, which I had to eat with my hands. It was my first doing it, ergo, I was afraid of making a mistake.
I was prepared for this, though, and prayed once more, thanking everyone for the food and the experience.
As I took the first bite, I realized it was the best lunch I had ever had.
Tears of happiness appeared in my eyes, and I felt grateful for this moment, my friend and her family, and Thailand.
It was one of those days when I knew I was on the right path.
This is one extract from my journal, written in July of 2021, in Huamalai, Kanchanaburi province, Thailand.
Thank you for reading me, let me know in the comments if you would like to read about others’ experiences in Thailand!
