Home Safe and Hungry

Some places are simply not where you are meant to be, and for me one of those places is the Chumpon beach house where I recently spent eighteen days. I'm lucky, I suppose, not to have been bitten by a scorpion--Yong the gardener was. She also came down with something dreadful that I hope isn't swine flu--she caught it from her daughter, whose school is now closed. Since Yong had carefully peeled and seeded and sliced a papaya that I savored every bite of, my concern isn't completely altruistic.

I also didn't see the monitor lizard that is the size of a small crocodile and lives in a stream near the house I stayed in, although I threw things into the water hoping to draw him out. Nor did the monkeys come, which was disappointing. However, several hours before the owners of the country retreat came to reclaim their property, I slipped on wet granite steps and twisted my foot, which now looks like a fat little pillow--my souvenir from Chumpon. I think I'd rather have gotten a lousy t-shirt.

But I'm home, in my very own room, having had a meal that didn't involve Mama noodles or its seasoning packets flavoring plain rice for the first time in two weeks. I feel wonderful.

Sometimes you have to step out of your life for a little while in order to truly appreciate it. I did and I do.