Revisiting Sankofa

I didn’t understand what he said, but people’s reaction was enough to explain.

I nodded my head and spoke before he could translate.

“Family comes first. You should stay in Bangkok.”

He responded, “If it was his choice, he would go. This is our grandparents’ hometown.”

The night before heading to Phattalung, P’Kai of Kai Jo Brothers was rushed to the emergency room due to an asthma attack. The doctor had announced a 50% chance of survival.

It was February 11, 2011 at 1:30am when P’Jo shared with us the devastating news. We just finished rehearsal and had a performance that same day. The drive from Bangkok would take approximately 12 hours, but we made sure to pay a visit to the hospital before embarking on our journey. P’Kai was delirious, but encouraged us to go – just as his brother predicted.

I had no idea what to  suspect in Phattalung. All I knew was that we would be performing at the beautiful lotus lake and bird sanctuary of Talay Noi, but when we arrived the large banner read “WORLD MUSIQ AND SHADOW FESTIVAL”. Never has Phattalung ever experienced something like this before.

The area was covered with information regarding Phattalung’s culture, emphasizing that it was the center of shadow puppetry in all of Thailand. Shadow puppeteers from around the world were also flown in to display their unique artwork and to celebrate our commonalities. Local children ran to the ‘world music station’ and improvised their own drum circle. Young brown women dressed in coconut shells to prepare for the Manora, an upbeat folk dance specific to Southern Thailand while the men tuned their cow-skinned percussions.

This was very eye opening to me considering the only Thai dance I’ve ever been exposed to in America were the slow classical ones meant for royalty and required for dancers to be covered in heavy gold jewelry. I never felt connected to it and saw it as a form of “high art”, meant for a society I felt my family did no fit in.

For the first time in my life I was able to understand the history and culture of Phattalung, and I was able to identify with a community I always felt so distant from. If any of you know me personally at home, you will know that I do not associate very much with the Thai community in Los Angeles. Often times, I’ve even gotten raised eyebrows from the older Thai people when I tell them I have a Khmer boyfriend and I enjoy my time in Long Beach, CA with my ethnically diverse group of friends. Majority of them don’t even believe that I am Thai because they say my complexion is too dark! It is rare to find Thai people from my mom’s village  or immigrants from the countryside- who aren’t working in kitchens of Thai restaurants. Thus, I have always formed a stronger bond with Khmers, Laotians, and Filipinos in my city because they remind me so much of people from my mom’s village and were not as quick to judge – to the point where majority of my gigs as a young artist were at Filipino events, including several years as a headliner at FPAC!  But back to Phattalung…

My mother was sure to inform all of our  family members that I was in town. To my surprise, my uncles, aunties, and cousins all came out! Never have I been surrounded by an intense amount of energy and love from relatives, considering the only direct family I grew up with was my mother, father, and older sister.

After the festival, I said goodbye to the band and went home with my relatives to stay with my 95 year old grandfather, Tha. The band was leaving to Bangkok the following morning while I wanted to take advantage of being in my mom’s village for an extra night, especially because Tha had officially become the eldest member left since his best friend passed away that week. This was my first time ever being in Phattalung without my mother.

My younger cousin, Nong Pang, wanted to stay close to me so we slept in the same room. I felt the responsibility of an older sister, since her brother was away in college and she has no other siblings.

The next day, Nong Pang took me to the beautiful national park of Khao Phu Khao Ya in Phattalung. Unlike the other national parks in Thailand, this one rarely has visitors since tourists do not make the effort to come to Phattalung. Lucky for me, since Phattalung has so many hidden treasures I hope Lonely Planet never finds. We went through the jungles and had to walk across streams along certain trails. If we stopped, we would get eaten by mosquitoes. My other cousin, P’Thook, often takes me to waterfalls or hidden caves and is still adventurous despite being more than 10 years older than me. (pictures to be posted soon…)

Before I could speak fluent Thai, my country family would take me to expensive restaurants that I really had no interest in because they thought this is how all Americans like to roll. Now that my Thai has improved, it amazes me they know exactly what activities I like – because they love it too! From jungle hikes to local food vendors, Phattalung has become my favorite secret in Thailand.

Life in the countryside takes much love, labor, and patience since majority of the time is spent outside cultivating and harvesting crops in 100 degree weather. My family are living examples of “stewards of the Earth”. They makes their living as farmers, and it has not always been easy. As nice as it seems to plant seeds, water them, and wait for it to grow, farmers must cooperate with the laws of Mother Nature – which are always not predictable. Here’s a video I made of my family at work:

My mother, the eldest daughter out of 8 children, left Phattalung when she was 14 years old and moved to Bangkok by herself for school and work – all because she did not want to live her life on a farm. My grandmother, Yai, recalls a letter written by my mom once that read, “When I’m hungry, I drink water. When I’m thirsty, I drink water.”

My mother’s main goal was to move to America and make money. My father was my mother’s ticket to America since he had been there before for work. Little did my mother know his occupation consisted of peeling carrots with other Mexican workers at the time, and when they moved to America in the 70s they lived in a cramped apartment with recent refugees from Laos and Cambodia in Long Beach. It took 20 years for my parents to move out of the hood and into the upper-middle class town of Cerritos – and then I was unexpectedly born.

I find it interesting that I have relocated to Long Beach these past years and now I am back in my parent’s home country. I have unintentionally retraced their steps until I have ended up at the core of it all, and now the only way to move is forward from here. P’Kai is so much better now and hopefully I get to see him at the next rehearsal in Bangkok. It has been nothing with blessings being with Kai Jo brothers, who have the same Phattalung roots as me, and I am riding on the waves of life by taking this time to further explore before going back to America. I guess I have had to let go of my plans to truly follow one that has already been laid out by my ancestors.

I was always afraid that when my mom would no longer be around, I would have no knowledge of where her family was in Thailand. My children would be completely assimilated into American culture with no interest of their ethnic heritage, but now I feel blessed I will always have a place to come back to.

Before, villages were formed by large offsprings. Today, we form communities in the areas we are raised in. I will never forget my momma’s village AND my home back in Long Beach, CA!

Driven by two worlds and working to bridge them as one within myself…

SANKOFA : “Go back to fetch it.” Learning from the past in order to build for the future.

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