Seven Years in Thailand — 31

When the Earth Dances Like…
Nobody is Watching

“Coming and going on the bird’s path, there are no tracks—
How can you look for stages on the mystic road?”
—The Denkoroku

I suspect we’ll all have earthquake stories. By the time you read this, it may be well over a year in time since the earthquake that shook us all yesterday afternoon.
I am a Californian. Since childhood, I have had experience with Earthquakes. In my first childhood home (or at least the one that I spent age two to five in) we awoke one night to a rumbling house and the chirping of a parakeet.

The house was named ‘Home James’ by me and my brother. We would always name the houses. This house was in Irvine, California—that city that was one of the first suburban planned communities. Manicured lawns, picture perfect Americana suburban life, designed as if by an alcoholic with an intensive anal retentiveness, as my Mother would often joke when I was older.

I had an orange Halloween pumpkin light, which I put in the window in autumn. The neighbor’s son across the street complained because he said it scared him, so I had to take it down. From then on, I had a great disdain for anyone who stepped on my Halloween, Autumnal spirit.

But back to the earthquake—the ground shook, the house with it. The parakeet squawked loudly, its cage swinging back and forth from the ceiling. We rushed out of the house and stood in the street. Of course, this isn’t proper Earthquake safety protocol, but this was the early nineties, and also, this is just how you tend to react in these dire situations.

The neighbors all stood upon the street as well. One of the things Earthquakes do best is bring neighbors and communities together; it’s probably the only real good thing about them, minus the stories.
I told my father then, “Daddy, I think the Earth was dancing.” And my father laughed.

Earthquakes that one can feel strike Southern California two to three times a year, but sometimes more often. It’s often in the night, and you might awake to some rumbling or shaking, and then shrug, and fall asleep.
I remember once, as I did some math homework at the dining room table at my father’s house, everything started to shake. I got under the table and grabbed the leg and defended my head with my other hand (proper earthquake protocol) but by the time I had done all of this, the shaking had stopped. The earthquake epicenter had been somewhere in Mexico, and the news showed the devastation.

Here in Bangkok, I sat at my desk. Suddenly, everything started to wobble. I got up, unsure if it was me or the building. I walked outside of the empty class. Down the hallway, students flooded the corridors to look out the window. I walked back into the classroom. That’s when the shaking really started. I grabbed my bags and ran for the stairway, yelling ‘go go go!’ At the kids. On every floor, more and more high schoolers flooded the stairway. Some were walking. “Faster! Faster!” I yelled. “Go faster!”

We all made it out. Teachers, students, admin, all standing out there, looking at the building. It was only once I’d left the building that I realized that it wasn’t just our building shaking, as I suspected it’s structural integrity was meeting its natural terminus, it being old enough for such a fate. But no—all the kids of the surrounding buildings had fled out.
I walked, a bit dazed, but smiling, up to a group of my favorite students.
“Welcome to California!” I said.

We all stood out there, mingling, listening to ambulances going by. Eventually the hospital with nurses showed up to set up a blood drive.
I looked to the teacher girl I’d cared for all these years. She made furtive eye contact with me, as if to accuse it all upon my shoulders, and then she departed to the other side of the plaza, far from me. No ‘are you ok?’ Or any speech at all. Oh well.

I told as many people as I could that we needed to check the structural integrity of that building before kids went back in. Still kids rushed back in, risking life and limb for iphones and backpacks. Just one more game of Genshin Impact, just one more game…

Me and a few of the teachers decided to go to the pub and wait for this all to blow over. At Jack’s Bar, we drank and shot the shit about everything under the sun. We watched as people crossed Saphan Takhsin in droves, like pilgrims, for the skytrain was not surprisingly closed.

My apartment had some minor damage. Bathroom tiles busted off of the walls. Cracks in some edifices throughout the building. But it was funny, the only thing that really knocked over was the Devil bobble-head.

It’s the next day now, and I’m seated at a hotel cafe on Sukhumvit. I’m reading books, listening to classical music. The cafe baristas are exceptionally cute but not in an approachable way. The Earl Grey Tea was delicious.
I don’t know, I guess I’ll just relax for a bit.