Mamma bear and Aunty bears in Thailand - Lessons Learnt

Having your family visit is never easy. Having your family visit you in a crazy non-English speaking Asian country for two weeks is even neverer easy than that, but whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, na.

Lesson 1. There will be tears.

Whether they're coming from your completely overwhelmed and homesick aunty after nearly overdosing on your OTC generic brand stilnox or simultaneously with hysterical laughter from your hormonally unbalance mother as she sits on your makeshift couch bed after an exhausting day at Ayuttaya during which you left your brand-new seven-hundred dollar Nikon D40 on the tour bus, there will be the shedding of tears and possibly the renting of clothes and gnashing of teeth. Ready yourself.

Lesson 2. Everyone will get sick.

Sometimes from the airconditioning on the plane, sometimes from a strain of Aussie 'flu one of our relatives brought over with them, sometimes from that wedge of pineapple we're sure was soaking in dirty tap water for a month before being put in our mocktail, sometimes from the KFC we ate because we were sure the street food was going to give us the runs, sometimes from the one-hour of sitting in the tray of a tabletop ute 'taxi' after a night on local Thai turps (during which, incidentally, our older cousin was supposed to be monitoring our alcohol intake), but always, always at a different time to the others in the group, who will without exception believe their illness to have been far worse than ours and will accordingly show us no compassion whatsoever.

Lesson 3: Your cat will be more popular than you.

As per usual.

Lesson 4: It's hotter than you think.

Yes, it's winter here, it's only 25 at night and low thirties during the day but middle-aged European ladies have natural barometers built into them that compel them to comment every few seconds on the humidity and how it's a different kind of heat to their hometown, which at the time was experiencing temperatures in the FORTIES due to half of NSW spontaneously combusting.

Lesson 5: You will field at least infinity divided by zero questions. Many of them unanswerable by a mortal being.

Like:
- Will we be able to bring this (wooden elephant/paper photo album/tiny Buddha/fake Gucci bag/illegally copied DVD) home through customs?
- How much will the cab from ___ to ___ cost?
- Do I have to fill up the washing machine with the hose? (No) Then why is there a hose near it?
- Is there going to be a western toilet there?
- Are we still in Bangkok? (during a two-minute cab ride)
- Can you understand that thing they said really quickly in Thai?
- Why are there so many cars?
- What is the crime rate in Bangkok?
- Do I have to leave a tip?
- Will they sell shoes?
Etc.

Lesson 6: They will consider you to be the greatest Thai linguist of all time because you know how to say hello.

This is a good thing and a bad thing. Good, because even if the pinnacle of your Thai language skills is knowing how to say mai kao jai ('I don't understand'), they will regard you with awe for your superhuman brain. Bad, because for the whole trip you'll be expected to translate entire news reports, read Thai menus, understand what the Thai massage girls are giggling about behind your backs, ask for the paisley pashmina with the light pink fringed border but the one in a long rectangle shape, not the short rectangle shaped one and so on.

Lesson 7: You will miss them when they go.

No matter how intrusive, how frustrating, how toilet- and heat-obsessed, how just generally parental things get, the night you walk in from your first drinking binge after they leave and there's no mamma bear sitting on your pillow in her nightie doing a crossword, and no aunty bears ordering penang curry for every meal or repeatedly calling Thailand 'Taiwan' and asking you what today's exchange rate is, you'll be sad.

b.