MY STORY

I used to do exactly what was expected of me —or at least what I thought other people expected of me. You know, doing your best at school, dreaming of a career, and stuff. The only problem, though, is that I was a six out of ten kind of student. I spent most of my time doing things that were not in line with my projected career path.

I should have become a real estate developer or architect. Instead, I became a cook in my friend’s restaurant. Putting my uni degree aside to work in a postcard-sized kitchen surely wasn’t on my mom’s list of dreams she had for me. But when people tell you they love your food…that’s where you get addicted. 

Having my own restaurant was one of my big dreams. This bubble burst within a year of working as a cook. The monetary reward versus the stress and effort don’t add up. Most people might think I’m crazy for becoming a cook instead of a real estate guy, but surely I’m not that crazy to work for over 40 years in possibly the most stressful environment (after war situations).

The feeling of addiction was not because people filled my ego by telling me about my food. I got addicted to the idea that I could learn anything through YouTube videos and blog posts and then get paid for what I enjoyed doing. Pandora’s box was not safe in my hands.

My mind is filled with ideas, and I like to call myself an optimistic pessimist. So, on the one hand, I think I can do anything that someone else has done. On the other hand, I always doubt myself. This cocktail led me to believe I could become the next Anthony Bourdain in travel documentary-making.

To deal with my self-doubt, I did the only thing that worked: I took a deep breath and jumped. I canceled my apartment, quit my job as a cook, bought a camera, and booked a one-way ticket to my roots. You might think this was a bit over the top, but for me, it felt like the only way to break with the past and look for the new.

There was still one thing from the past that I needed to fix. Growing up as a Thai kid in The Netherlands, I’ve always felt different. Most people didn’t treat me differently, but if you have a different skin color and family situation, you just feel as if you’re out of place. But if you live for 22 years in the Netherlands where you have grown up since you are five, you are Dutch from the inside. But still Thai from the outside. So, I wasn’t sure where I belonged. Should I identify as Dutch or Thai?

I thought that living with my Thai family would give me some closure. And it did, but not in the way that I expected. I thought the whole roots exploring experience would let me feel either Dutch or Thai. That I had to make up my mind and make a choice or something. In reality, I neither felt 100% Thai, nor 100% Dutch. But if I wasn’t one or the other, what was I then?

There’s something peculiar about Thai culture. On the one hand, my family was very warm and welcoming. My aunties always made sure I had enough to eat, and I could borrow a scooter whenever I wanted. On the other hand, everyone also did their own thing. Sure, they are happy that you are there. But life goes on. After a couple of days, things went back to normal, and I was living with my family as if I had never left Thailand.

Because I couldn’t speak Thai and most of my family couldn’t speak English, I didn’t have many people to talk to. Although I was surrounded by people who loved me, I felt lonely. So, when I felt lonely, I turned to my friends in the Netherlands. Texting people on the other side of the planet, with a 6-hour time difference in a completely different world, also does not make you feel less lonely. When you are in 35 Celsius heat, log on to Facebook to see people wishing each other a Merry Christmas and sharing family photos, and you get hit by reality. 

My friends had recently graduated and were busy building careers and a future life with their partners. I was single with big dreams but no plan. But when you are lonely for three months, your brain adapts. You have time to think and put pieces of a lifelong puzzle into place. I wasn’t a pure Thai, and I certainly was not pure Dutch. And that was precisely the point.

Next to not fitting into a country category, there were more categories I didn’t fit in. I wasn’t a university graduate who followed a career. I had no specialization but was more of a jack of all trades. Where everyone went left, I looked to the right. At a moment of loneliness, I looked back at my life and saw that I had always done things my way. I wanted to figure things out on my own and not just accept things because a teacher said so. Often, it took me more time to achieve something than others, but I always got things done my way, to my satisfaction.