My First Night in Don Mueang

If Khao Sam Roi Yot was the transition from orientation to actually living in Thailand, then Don Mueang was my first real step in adjusting to a foreign country. Here, there were no orientation friends or familiar faces—just me, what I’d learned, and the desire to use the skills I’d acquired.

After checking out of my hotel, I waited for the car that would take me to what would be my first home in Thailand: Don Mueang. Up to this point, my experience had been a mix of urban and rural landscapes. While there were plenty of people, it wasn’t the bustling “full Monty” of Bangkok and its suburbs. Don Mueang, a northern suburb, is a fully developed city in its own right with great public transportation and even its own international airport. However, nothing could have prepared me for the experience of city life in Asia.

For decades, cities in the United States have been places people went to—to work, to eat, and to play—but not necessarily to live. For those who do live in U.S. cities, easily accessible food within walking distance is often not a given. Even in places like Seattle or megalopolises like Los Angeles or New York City, food is often found in specific places that don’t line up with where people live. There are exceptions to that, but the majority of Americans live in food deserts that require everyone to use some form of transportation to get their daily bread.  So, arriving in a city where people lived, worked, and had everything they needed within walking distance was a very new experience for me, and it was one that I was looking forward to exploring.

The drive into Don Mueang took us first through the countryside and then through Bangkok. It was a familiar and delightful transition, but I was also incredibly grateful not to be driving. After all my years on the road, I had never driven in a country that drove on the opposite side. Culturally, the rules of the road are different here than in the United States and Canada.

Not having a full grasp of those things, I knew it was in my best interest, and everyone else’s, to let the professionals take the wheel (however, that’s another post for another day).

Despite the sheer volume of drivers, I didn’t see a single instance of road rage. People simply got on with it, knowing when to go and how to merge to keep traffic flowing smoothly through all the bottlenecks. Despite all the cars, bikes, and trucks occupying the same space, traffic wasn’t stop-and-go. Did I understand how they decided who went first, or how bikes and scooters kept from causing a cataclysmic impact? Nope. No idea.

My New Home and First Meal

Once I arrived at my condo, I was excited to have my own space after sharing a room with a roommate during orientation week. No disrespect to my roommate—he’s a delightful man, and a new lifelong friend—but I was grateful for my own space.

The apartment was clean, the water was hot, and I had a view and easy access to the rest of the city. There were even gardens and shrines in the courtyards between the condo buildings.

I should also mention that I’m a large guy—6’2″ and well above the average weight for a man my age. Despite my size, the apartment didn’t feel cramped. I could stretch out without bumping into things, and each space had a clear purpose. The apartment felt larger than it was. I was lucky that XploreAsia hooked me up with a coordinator who understood my needs and found a place that fit my them. Once again, I am forever grateful that I made the decision to go the route that I did. Everyone at every level always made sure my needs were met. I cannot overstate the importance of having good support when transitioning to life abroad.

So, what was my first meal in my new apartment? If you guessed some kind of Thai delicacy or a classic Pad Thai, you’d be wrong. I ordered good old-fashioned McDonald’s, complete with a corn pie and a bucket of chicken! (Okay, I ordered lunch and dinner because it felt nice to be lazy and have it delivered.)

And here’s the kicker: the fries and the Coke both tasted like childhood. I’d forgotten how delicious McDonald’s used to be before the days of high-fructose corn syrup, back when everything was fried in beef tallow. I’m not going to lie; I teared up a little. While our food system in the U.S. isn’t what it used to be, the remnants of that era still exist in different places around the world, and that’s something to celebrate.

As the sun set on my first day in Don Mueang, it felt good to embrace a moment of familiarity. Living in and experiencing new cultures and places and having grand experiences often lead to profound moments of revelation. However, just because we find ourselves in a new culture doesn’t mean we stop being who we are or enjoying the cultural things we bring with us on our journey. People who experience the worst aspects of culture shock have nothing to connect them with the culture they find themselves immersed in, and no connection to their own familiarities. That combination creates a sense of nostalgia, and in some cases a sense of loss. This is usually the moment people start to ask themselves, “Am I crazy for doing this?”. However, don’t dwell in that place. It’s enough to acknowledge the changes and to know that small comforts do wonders for transition.

As I finish my meal, I step out onto my balcony and look over the city. From my view, I can see the market below, the city sprawl, and the sky rails connecting the city. The air felt calm despite all the bustle of people going about their lives. In that moment, I felt the gravity of my situation: I was officially living in a new country on the opposite side of the planet, and it felt good! I had finally achieved a life goal that I had had since I was a teenager in high school. Looking forward, tomorrow was a new day filled with all the possibilities.