Feeding Myself

The closest restaurants to my house are outdoor street side places that make you forget you live in a big city. The horseflies, mosquitoes, and wild dogs are plentiful and of course, no one speaks English. I asked for this kind of adventure when I was younger. I took an introduction to Anthropology my freshmen year of college and knew I was going to be a Margaret Mead somewhere in the world.

Today, I was just hungry. I was hungry and I wanted some variety. I only know how to say three dishes. Pad Thai, Pad Se-ew, and Kama moo sai kai dow. I don't even like Pad Thai that much and I'm getting a little tired of the other two. Plus, I didn't want to the be that regular farang that ordered the same thing. I could imagine, before I even open my mouth, the cook has already started on the order.

So I looked something else up in my Lonely Planet Phrasebook. Today, I wanted a pork omelet with rice. According to the book, the phrase went something like this: "Kai jee-o sai moo." I said it over and over aloud, carefully enunciating every syllable. Then I would say it fast, to make it sound legit. Like I knew what I was talking about.

When I got to the restaurant, I spotted the owners of the establishment, two kindly old ladies who appeared to be sisters. One took the orders and the money and the other cooked the food.

"Sa wa dee ka" I said with a smile. It never hurts to smile.
"Sa wa dee ka," they said in unison.
"Kai jee-o sai moo," I announced confidently. There it was, I put it out there. Take that! I want a pork omelet and I'd like you to make it with haste, my good lady.
I was met with confusion. Of course.
I repeated myself. Careful not to speak louder. You know it's in my American genes to speak louder when misunderstood by foreigners.
Again, the kindly old ladies smiled, but were oblivious to what I said.
Did I say it wrong? I looked at the phrasebook.
Kai jee-o sai moo.
I said it right, what's wrong with these people!?
I said it slower
I said it faster
I broke it up into two parts.
I soon gave up.

Finally, I got the idea to simply show them the phrasebook and let them read it for themselves. But the poor old ladies couldn't see the small print. There was a lot of squinting between the two of them, a lot of pointing and a lot argument, but the order taker was the one to figure it out.

"Ahhh," she said. As if the great mysteries of life were unfolding right from that Lonely Planet Phrasebook. Me, I wanted to throw the thing in the nearest canal.
"Kai Tee-o!" She corrected Lonely Planet and me.
Really, I thought. Was that it? Tee-o? Not Jee-o? Apparently I had not taken into account that Lonely Planet is full of it or that there are some major dialect changes throughout Thailand.

The old ladies really found the whole things humorous. They giggled and patted me on the back, telling me to sit down in Thai. Eventually, I had a fabulous omelet and was on my way to making friends with some patient and forgiving locals.