The Good Land

Chapter 1 / Day Dreams

Another warm sticky morning, the flaming Sun wasn't even up yet? Didn't he know that it was time to shine down and give the rice fields some love? Today is my birthday and it's just another day. I am eight years old on February 16th 1967. Slowly, the light from the Sun begins to ease his way into my heart. He wasn't picky about whom accepted his love-NO- everyone had a shot at his light. Still I loved him like everyone else- even when it was boiling hot-the Sun was needed for his free nourishing light. Without him, the world would be in the dark-literally and figuratively.

So, I slog my way with the family to our fifty acres of rice fields. It was a lot of land and we had all our family working on the farm; the whole village was related to me in one way or another. I was an only child and a girl! I wasn't as strong as my boy cousins, but I was determined to not be seen as a puffer sitting around trying to get men to give me a cig. No way was I going to be bought - especially with a mere cigarette!! Besides, whomever thinks they can buy me at all had a rude awakening coming their way. Since I was the only child without a father (he disappeared when I was two) my Mom pushed me to be independent and not need a man. I was from a humble family with a big farm-I had enough money.

The rice had just sprouted in their tiny egg containers; and we were transplanting the young shoots into the flooded fields. One person usually handed the rice sprouts to another person that would quickly stick the rice into the land. The land was always accepting of our plants and had always given us enough to keep for our family, but also to sell to our whole Province. We were known as the women with the Good Land. So prolific were our fields that our fragrant and delicious Jasmine rice became the RICE. The land was good to us and we were grateful.

On this particular birthday morning, I was handing rice sprouts to my cousin Nong when she suddenly began to giggle. We were working quickly, and I didn't see any reason for the outburst. Then I heard the sound of the train and it's "chooo-choooooooo-ing". We were on the rice field adjacent to the train tracks. It was considered the worst field to work in because of the noise and pollution from the morning train that came precisely six in the morning every weekday to ferry the rich kids to the private school in town. The rich kids had parents that own stores or ran companies that distributed our rice. They didn't have to work hard for their money. They were born into it from their hard-working immigrant parents. The Chinese basically ran all the commerce in our town; most had fled China when communism spread like wildfire.

I was too young to remember when the Chinese came to our towns and started opening shops full of beautiful soft shiny silks, unlike our own Thai silk which was made for daily wear because of its durability. The rough texture, which softens over time, didn't compare to the softness of the Chinese silks. We hadn't even thought about selling our silks until the Queen of Thailand made it the national textile. I was wearing my new Thai silk scarf this morning around my waist to hold up my sarong, which would always seem to fall down at the worst moments-usually while trying to ride our many water buffalos. I had received the handmade scarf from my Mai-Yai, for my birthday. Mai Yai is my Mom's mom and the matriarch of our family and the leader of our village. It was pink of course with thin strips of green and yellow, -just like my favorite orchid that grew in the tree next to my bedroom window. Mai Yai was also the village silk queen. She was able to produce some of the most beautiful golden thread to loom thru our various pieces that she became a favorite to the Thai elite.

Nong was now tugging at my sarong, still not remembering my eight birthday, and pointing at the boys waving to us with his friends from the window. Their hair was blowing from the warm humid wind. I saw my four boy cousins waving to us. As they rode by on the train, I began to think for the first time that I might like to also go to school in town. Why not? We had money and they didn't really need me to work, did they? I would be the first girl to be educated in our family beyond the fourth grade. School was free until then. After that, there were only private schools for the rich kids, whom were mostly Chinese and Indian. I had an instant idea of being an educated Thai girl just like the Chinese and Indian girls that were rich. It seemed the perfect birthday gift that would keep on giving. The idea quickly began to crystallize, and I was now obsessed with the idea.

I started to visualize myself on the train wearing the blue and white traditional uniforms. I would wear barrettes. in my hair to keep it out of my eyes. I would also have a pair of shiny black Mary Janes with white socks. I would get to carry a new shiny silver stackable lunchbox. Mai Yai would for sure engrave my name on it, or maybe just my initials- GG Goldie Gurusampoom. The first top bowl of the lunchbox I imagined was full of sticky rice of course, which we also grew for our Laotian ancestry (my fav). The second bowl would have some spicy nampik made with Thai chili peppers, shrimp paste all mixed with fish sauce, lime juice, and a little bit of sugar. The third bowl would have some Thai eggplant, water cress, and a boiled egg. My favorite lunch of course; I am just dreaming for now.

Back to Nong, as she begins to fall in love with the boys on the train, and her unrelenting giggles. I found no giggles bubbling out of me, only determination. I didn't want to be the wife of some rich man; I wanted to be independent like my maternal role models whom had survived cheating lying husbands that left them for the younger women, after collecting the money from our harvest. I remember too many nights of cursing and crying -from Mai Yai and Mom- to really never wanting what seemed like bad karma to hit me. No marriage for me, I was set on being independent -even if boys wouldn't like me for it. Who needed that controlling and judgmental tirade on a daily basis? Not me! Yes, I'm only eight, but I have seen a lot of bad things happen for absolutely no good reason.

When the train finally passes by and the smoke bellows blackness into the clear wet warm air, Nong turns to me and says she's in love with all the boys and will marry one someday- and be a rich fine lady living in town with servants while wearing fine Chinese silks. I said nothing about my own dreams. Nong would not understand. I know only that NO one will listen -and that they will deliberate intensely on spending so much money on educating a GIRL! What would the family in the village or the rich folks in town think? I know that I will not care one hot hoot about any of their snobby sloppy opinions. Mom on the other hand will be very protective and want to shield me away on the farm away from pain and hurt like she has experienced. Mom just loves me I know, but sometimes I’d like her to know that I'm not as nice and kind-hearted as she is...

As the morning heat bore down on our necks and back where the sunhat didn't cover, Nong and I grew into a groove and continued to plant our rice shoots into the good land that was our shared heritage. Nong was actually my third cousin twice removed, meaning her Mom was my Mom's second cousin's wife. Yes -our family was the entire rice farming village we called home. Our village surrounded our fifty acres of the good land that had provided for us for over three generations. Our water buffaloes were our pets and all the kids learned to ride when they are two. The younger children always started with farm work before and after school by helping to tend to the five water buffaloes that we owned as a family. They would ride the buffaloes out to the rice fields and bring them back in the evening before dark. The buffaloes had their own barn built next to our houses. During the weekends, we would all ride the buffaloes in the village- just for laughs and giggles. Buffaloes you see do not tend to move too quickly, so they are perfect for little children to ride. Don't wear RED though, they will get MAD then and charge at you like you were a RED target!!

Before we knew it- the dinner bell rang as the Sun had rose overhead. We all headed to our houses for our family dinner and a quick nap during the hottest part of the day. I would usually read in the hammock under the house and always fall asleep. As hard as I would try to stay awake and read, the heat and work eventually wore me out. I am only eight after all and had just finished fourth grade. As we walked back for dinner with the Sun urging us to quickly find some shade, I began my plans on how to convince my and Mom to educate a little farm girl like ME! Why not?!

I awoke from my nap with lines marking my face from the hammock and a little dried spit on my cheek. The heat had worn off a bit with the sun still burning brightly slightly overhead; but it was still sticky hot, and I just wanted to jump into the flooded rice paddies and play with Nong. I knew that there were still more rice shoots to plant before dark. It was still my birthday though, maybe I could ask to go to town later and get some ice cream with Nong. Mom had let me have ice cream last year on my birthday since the harvest was so good. My favorite is vanilla ice cream on a stick covered with crunchy chocolate and peanuts- no need for a spoon or a cup. Again, still dreaming even after a nap! I needed to come up with a plan to get myself to private school next year for fifth grade.

I could say that I would help Mai Yai with the rice farm business and take care of the money and stuff. I didn’t know too much about that, but I knew Mai Yai hired a Chinese man to count our money for us. I could do that job; I am pretty good at counting things. I was the smartest in my class all the years that I went to school so far. I could see myself now riding on the train and sticking my head out the window when I got hot and waving to my family as I rode by on the way into town with the other rich kids. My boy cousins were not all so smart and always got into trouble in school fighting all the time. Mai Yai always yells at them and their parents saying that she was wasting her money on dummies. It made me wonder why they didn’t know how lucky they were to be rich boys. Why would you waste your chance to be in school and get smarter with fighting and doing stupid things to only make everyone in the family mad at you?

I had four boy cousins in fifth and sixth grades that were the sons of my Mom’s cousins, and Mai Yai’s sister’s children. The fifth graders were twins and the dumbest ones that couldn’t even beat me in the math finals. The sixth graders were related to Nong, so they were also my third cousins. Nong’s older brother was ten and he was pretty smart. Tsong was always very nice to me but mean to his sister Nong. She hated him and they were always fighting like their Mom and Dad. I always loved to follow right behind Tsong as we walked to school in the mornings and on the way home after school. Nong would be so mad at me for listening to him talk about his day at school, but that’s what I liked to do. Nong was happy now that she had my attention all to herself for the past two years since Tsong was away at school all day in town.

Nong had actually woke me up from my nap and was laughing at my spit and the hammock lines on my face. She pulled my arm to get back to the rice paddy so that we could swim a little before working again. I agreed and ran willingly to the deepest paddy near our house before heading out the far paddy that we had been planting rice shoots in all morning. We still had about four hours of light left to work, so we swam for about a half hour. We rode the water buffalo that was also soaking in the water like us. We jumped off his back and he didn’t mind since we were splashing him and cooling him down also. We could see the small river crabs scurrying into the mud before we could catch them and give to Mai Yai to make her pickled crabs for our somthum. Somtum or spicy papaya salad had become so popular that it had reached the capital Bangkok, where we hear the rich love it -but less spicy than we eat it and without the shrimp paste since it’s too stinky for them. That makes me think it must not taste too good and that it’s really not authentic like Mom makes it. My mouth waters every time I think of eating it with sticky rice and fried mackerel. MMMMmmm another one of my favorite dishes! Again, dreaming of food!!

As we head back to our paddy to finish planting the rice shoots, I begin to form a plan to convince my Mom and Mai Yai to pay for my continued schooling. I had the right words in my head and was practicing my facial expressions so that they could really really feel my need to keep making my brain smarter. Since I am the next heir to inherit the good land, I think Mai Yai will definitely agree and maybe even overpower my Mom into letting me continue onto even the university in Bangkok. Women ruled in our family and I know Mai Yai wants to know the good land will be protected by her only heir-her direct blood. Mom would eventually agree over time like she always did with Mai Yai. It was hard to disagree with Mai Yai. She has become so powerful and well-liked by all who know her and have business with her. She is so smart for only going to fourth grade. Mai Yai is always reading books and watching the news. She knows a lot of rich people from her silk weaving business that her legend is hard to rebel against.

Imagine if Mai Yai had had an education. She would be ten times smarter than any man around in the village or the town. I want that for me someday. I want to be the matriarch and leader of our family village and to be respected like Mai Yai. I would travel more than Mai Yai does though and see the world. I could sell our Thai silks all over the world and maybe someday our silks will also be famous like the Chinese silks are. Dreaming again -as Nong splashes water on me and finally says “Happy Birthday Goldie!” This is why she is my favorite cousin and friend- Nong always remembers my birthday!

As the sun begins to set, we head back from the far paddy where we planted all the rice shoots to have a light meal before going to sleep. We ride back together on a water buffalo and put him in his pen next to my house. Nong heads home to eat with her family after she gives me a big hug for my birthday. Mom and Mai Yai are waiting for me to eat. As I make a sticky rice ball to dip into some spicy namprik, I ask if I could go to fifth grade next year like my boy cousins. Both Mai Yai and Mom stare at me for a long time as I chew my sticky rice ball that seems too big for my mouth right now. Mom begins to tear up and Mai Yai starts to break into a huge smile. Mai Yai is so happy she yells out, “Just what I wished for your birthday! Did you read my mind?” Mom’s tears are now running into her mouth as she says, “My perfect dream for you my sweet baby girl!!”

I am in complete shock and start choking on my sticky rice ball and the spicy namprik has now gone up my nose; and, I start to sneeze out bits of rice causing us all to giggle loudly. We all hug each other over the food and begin to all cry together in pure joy. What I had thought would be so hard to say to them had turned out to be so easy. I say, “How did you know my dreams? Did you both read my mind??” We all laugh and cry as we continued hugging each other. Finally, the truth. We had all wished for the same things because we are all girls that wanted more from life. Mai Yai and Mom had made it so that I could follow my dreams, that were also their dreams. They did not know if I wanted the burden of being the first girl to continue with her education. There would be rough days of bullying from the boys and the rich girls in town. I was darker than all the rich girls and would stand out. They did not want to push me into a life where I would always have to defend myself for being smart, even though I was a rice farmer’s daughter.

As we finished eating our nightly meal on my eight-birthday day, I realized that they had raised me to be a dreamer. Although I worked and did my chores everyday like a good girl, Mai Yai and Mom had always wanted me to play and dream. They always had encouraged me to get good grades and to be smarter than anyone. They taught me to think for myself like a human, not like a girl or a boy. I was always told I could do and be anything I wanted to be. They never said I couldn’t be a doctor or a lawyer. They never said you had to get married at fifteen and have kids to work on the farm. They never made me think anything that would stop me from dreaming my big dreams. The tears and pains they had both suffered were told to me over and over again until I didn’t want to be dependent on a man for my happiness. They had seen the dreamy look in my eyes since I was a baby and they both nourished it to this day. I can now go to school and grow up to help my family continue their traditions in our village that surrounds the Good Land which we depend on for our survival.

The nourishing hot sun slowly disappeared, and darkness enveloped the Good Land in peace. The night awoke with shiny glowing stars as the cool breeze swept over our fifty acres of rice paddies. The water buffalo snorted his good night. The air felt a little lighter as sprinkling rain fell to the good earth and fed the rice shoots. The crickets sang a sweet lullaby and in the distance a train rumbled by choo-chooooo-ing all the way into the future. As the scent floated from the pink orchid outside my bedroom window, I dreamt that night of more delicious dreams as my eight-birthday ended and I headed into the fifth grade and beyond.