Of Cilantro and Homesickness

I’ve been feeling quite blah today so this post is going to be completely random. Bear with me.

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Probably my least favorite spice (or vegetable) is cilantro or coriander. Unfortunately, it seems that it’s also the favorite spice (or vegetable) among Thai people. I’ve had cilantro on my food since the day I arrived in Bangkok. Usually, I just set the pesky leaves aside. It doesn’t really have any effect on the dish’s general taste as long as you’re not chewing it.

Anyway, I decided to treat myself to a different lunch today, one that didn’t involve street food. I went to the mall nearest my office, Future Park. I decided I wanted chicken so I went to KFC with the idea of ordering my favorite Zinger meal. While I was on queue, however, I happened to glance at the colorful menu behind the counter and I saw it – the spicy chicken meal. It looked good, owing to the fact that it had a lot of onions. For the record, I love, love, love onions. I eat ‘em raw, fried, baked, chopped, un-chopped, whole, you name it. But I digress. I decided right there and then to get the spicy chicken meal.

After much pointing and gesturing with the food server, I finally got my exciting new dish. With tray in hand, I headed to the nearest corner table, eagerly started eating, and promptly gagged. The whole thing was crawling with cilantro. The worst thing was I could barely see the evil leaves so I couldn’t set them aside. They were chopped so fine that you’d need a microscope to see them.

Because I couldn’t possibly waste 77 baht on a meal I took only one bite of, I forced myself to eat the rest of it, taking big gulps of my Pepsi in between bites. I managed to finish almost three quarters of it. The sad thing was it would’ve been a very good meal. It was a tad too spicy but hey, this is Thailand. And unfortunately, because this is Thailand, I’m in cilantro hell. Indeed, it was the best of times, and it was the worst of times.

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Unable to successfully get the nasty taste of cilantro out of my mouth with a large Pepsi, I decided I deserved an ice cream. I walked around the mall, looking for Hawell’s, my favorite ice cream stall with their excellent 15-baht vanilla ice cream cone dipped in amazing chocolate fudge. I never did get to find Hawell’s.

There it was, it’s pretty pink sign a beacon for cilantro victims everywhere – Baskin and Robbins! It shouldn’t be a big deal, I know, but I come from a city where there isn’t a single Baskin and Robbins. I remember there was one when I was about 12 but for some reason, they closed it down, and I never saw a Baskin and Robbins again. I’m not even sure if they have Baskin and Robbins in Manila. I’ve never seen any on my frequent trips to the capital.

But once again, I digress. I eagerly perused the divine display of ice cream, obviously chock full of calories. But I was in ice cream heaven and, like all addicts, I wasn’t thinking straight. I was confronted with one of the hardest decisions of my life – what flavor should I go for. After about 10 minutes of walking up and down the aisle and peering rather seriously into every cooler, I finally decided on a double scoop of Jamocha Almond Fudge and Chocolate Escape.

Being Baskin and Robbins, it was rather pricey, but I suppose 69 baht for a double scoop of ice cream is a pretty good deal. I’m sure it’s at least double the price in other countries. It was worth every baht. The rich flavor and sublime creaminess tickled me all the way to my toes. It was an almost orgasmic experience that got me thinking: who needs a boyfriend when you have Baskin and Robbins?

After the sugar rush, however, I decided that a girl can’t live on Baskin and Robbins alone. She would definitely need a boyfriend…to buy her Baskin and Robbins. It makes perfect sense.

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I love the rain. The rain is a beautiful thing. I love walking in the soft drizzle and just feeling the tiny droplets on my face. I love listening to the rain pouring outside my window, especially while I sleep.

In Thailand, however, one can easily hate the rain. It could be perfectly sunny one moment and pouring the next. The rain in Thailand comes down without warning. And not only does it come down, it comes down in torrents. Buckets. You’re guaranteed to get drenched in less than a minute, which is exactly what happened to me as I was heading home. I keep forgetting to buy an umbrella, and I’m definitely getting a good, sturdy one tomorrow. That is, if this rain is ever going to stop.

If that isn’t bad enough, dig this: my area floods. If you’re unfortunate enough to be caught outside in a downpour, expect to wade in water at least 5 inches deep and pray there aren’t any potholes. It’s one of those rare moments when I’m thankful that I’m living on the 5th floor of an elevator-less building.

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I love corn. No, it’s not a typo, I do mean corn and not porn. (See, I love it so much that I can be corny too!)

Anyway, on my way home, I often pass through a market that always smells of that thing we leave in the toilet periodically. They sell some really interesting cuisine in this market, such as some mysterious animal’s tongue and fish heads the size of my own head. I was hurrying through the market when I saw this little old lady selling bags of huge yellow sweet corn. She was only selling them for 10 baht a bag, with 3 juicy ears of corn in each bag. I immediately bought one. I ate all three of them within minutes! And here you were, thinking I was buying them for another purpose. Nope, fresh produce is not my style.

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I don’t know if it was the rain, the ice cream, the cilantro-infested dish, the corn overload, or the fact that I just spent the last hour and a half hand washing my clothes, but I found myself crying. This is the first time I’ve cried since I got here. I always thought that I’d be crying everyday out of homesickness but I haven’t – until now.

I suppose it’s a good thing. It proves that I’m not such a bad person for not missing home more because I do, albeit slightly delayed. I just finished watching slideshows of pictures of my family and friends. I have also just finished crying hysterically. I miss my mum. I miss my sister. I miss my best friend. I miss all my friends, especially the ones at work. I miss my dogs. I miss lechon, adobo, sinigang, pochero, mum’s mango float that she told me she was making today, and Larsian. I miss having my own broadband Internet at home. I miss my bed. I miss having a helper to wash my clothes. I miss IT Park. Hell, I even miss my call center with its centralized air conditioning.

Yes, I miss a lot of things. And with that said, nope, I’m not coming home. I am home.