A Full Day, Part 1

Yesterday began for me with a run in the neighborhood. I didn’t get out the door early enough. The heat slowed me down. I took a shortcut, circling back home 15 minutes sooner than I had expected to be done.

Two friends from work had called the night before, wondering if they could come over at 9 in the morning to read to Jip in English. Jip was pleased at the idea, even though she hadn’t met Patama and Noi before.

Before I left for my run, I sent my friends a text message, suggesting they delay by an hour. I didn’t think Jip would be ready. But when I got back I found she had hurried through breakfast because she was excited about the visitors. I wished I hadn’t sent the text.

Jip went ahead with her routine: toothbrushing, toileting, showering. The sweating from my run wouldn’t stop. I changed shirts three times. A friend from Chicago and I skyped, after not talking for over a year. We cut off the conversation when the doorbell rang.

Patama and Noi had been shopping. They brought bags of fruit. We chatted while Jip finished her shower. Sounds from the next room, a hard-edged banter with the caregiver, told me her mood had soured.

Jip lives pretty much in the present moment. So perhaps she was irritated by the caregiver’s efforts to move things along because of the guests. Or maybe the caregiver had gotten a phone call and had chosen to talk rather than explain she was working.

Whatever the reason, Jip was no longer interested in being read to. She wanted to dry off from her shower. I suggested she could wrap herself in a towel and say hello. She said, “no guests.” I knew from experience that those words really meant “there’s too much going on, I can’t process all of this at once.”

The visitors and I hung around in the kitchen, eating the fruit, until Jip was dressed. It was about 11:30. Jip asked my friends where they had graduated from. This question is common enough among Thais who meet each other for the first time. It helps establish where everybody fits in the social scheme of things. For Jip it’s also a way of determining who else she might know in common. Historically only a handful of schools in Thailand have offered nursing or medical degrees. Not surprisingly, they discovered three or four points of connection.