I introduce myself, adding that I’m a first-year student born in the year of the dog in order to establish how to address each other.
“Are you in the horticulture club at your university, Nong?” he asks, now that he knows he is indeed older than I am.
“No, I’m just helping the club, P. But I do like plants,” I say.
My cell phone dings with a notification of a text from Sud.
Did you make it to Nakhon Pathom?
No, I’m dead in the road. (emoji face with x’d out eyes.)
That’s not funny.
Laughing, I put down my phone and dig into my food, only to have to pick it up again when another text from Sud comes through.
Did you pack your insect repellent?
I answer that I did and start to put the phone down, only to pause at another notification.
Are you wearing it?
Yes! I have so much of it on me, the mosquitos are dropping dead out of the air onto our lunch plates.
That seems to satisfy him, and I continue my meal, discussing plants with P’Film. Before I know it, it’s time to clean up, and the local students treat us to a tour of the campus.
Then the students from both schools break into groups and do what they want to do. P’Film invites me to explore the town, and we walk the streets, discussing the interesting older buildings. Eventually, we’re hungry again and buy Moo Ping, eating the spicy pork from the skewers with sticky rice as we sit on a bench people-watching.
P’Film tells me he’s from a salt farm in the small province of Samut Songkhram near the Gulf.
“There’s a floating market, and, at night, you can take a boat out on one of the waterways and see thousands of fireflies along the shores.”
“That sounds beautiful,” I say, imagining it.
He nods. “It really is.”
“Are you homesick?” I ask.
“Not really. I’ve traveled a lot by myself over the past year or so. I’m an only child, and my parents encourage me to be independent. What about you? Where are you from?”
I tell him about Wang Phong and my family. Although I’m intrigued about P’Film’s independence, I wouldn’t trade having Sud and Ten in my life to be like him.
“So, you have two brothers. That must be cool. How old are they?”
“Ten is twelve, and Sud is nineteen.” I don’t bother explaining that I’m not really related to them. It just leads to a lot of questions that make me uncomfortable.
After we finish eating, we walk some more, and, when it starts to get dark, P’Film suggests we head back to the campus.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mee Noi,” he tells me, waving goodbye at the guesthouse and heading for his dormitory.
Inside, our group is lounging in the common area.
“Finally, you’re back,” Bua says when I walk in. “Where did you go? Did you have fun?”
I told her about what P’Film and I did, and she tells me about playing volleyball and then going to the night market.
“I’m glad you made a friend,” she tells me.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say in English, making Bua roll her eyes at me.