One of my favorite little quirks about Thailand is their use of the English language. Before arriving to Thailand I had seen many photos of previous world racers wearing t-shirts that read “Same Same” on the front, with “But Different” printed on the back. I wondered what this could mean, especially once I found the same t shirts all over the markets in Bangkok.
Not long after arriving at the home where we would be living this month, I would quickly get an answer to my question. The first night we arrived, the pastor sat down with the team to give us our weekly schedule. While describing a few of the schools we would be visiting, he assured me they were pretty much “same same but different.” To help us better understand the use of this strange phrase, my team and I created some more phrases that are pretty much the same same, but different.
Slow slow, but fast.
Soon soon, but later.
Maybe maybe, but probably not.
Apple apple, but orange.
Happy happy, but sad.
You know? Same same, but different.
Moving on. If you don’t know Eh, you need to know her. Eh is the pastor’s wife and she cooks and cleans for our team this month. Every morning, she hops on her motorbike, drives to the market to purchase fresh groceries, and drops her son off at school. Upon arriving back at the home/church, she is instantly at work in her humble kitchen, which consists of one small refridgerator, and what I think might be a small stove. There’s just enough space between the two appliances for her to sit, indian style, on the hard cement floor, preparing three meals a day for the 10+ people that currently live in her home. Her family will sleep on the floor in a small room behind the kitchen for the entire month in order to accomodate our team.
It doesn’t stop there. You can find Eh joyfully hand washing 10+ people’s dirty laundry — after doing everyone’s dirty dishes from breakfast. She will also be watching her two year old grandaughter all day. Nonetheless, the clothes will be spotless and hung to dry in the hot afternoon sun, all before lunch time. She will then travel 30+ miles on her motorbike to meet our team at the women’s prison for ministry. Oh – did I mention it’s her birthday? She never grumbles, only laughs and smiles. She has learned what it means to die to yourself and put yourself last. Her constant servanthood has left my whole team in awe.
As a small birthday gift for Eh, my team and I conspired with the pastor and planned a little afternoon “supplise” (surprise in American-Thai) for her – an hour long massage. The pastor asked if any of the girls on our team would be willing to also buy ourselves a massage so Eh would have friends to accompany her on her special day. I am definitely not one for massages, but for Eh I would give it a shot. How bad could it be? I would soon find out…
We had about two hours in between the prison and our evening ministry for us to go get our birthday massages. We walked into the small clinic (which I’d later find out was a torture chamber) and changed into the outfits provided. I laid back on the table with a smile on my face and false hope of peaceful relaxation.
I quickly realized my mistake the moment the masseuse grabbed my foot and snapped it into two pieces.
What the?!?! What is going on here?!?! That’s my foot! There are BONES in there!!!
She grabbed my other foot.
Snap!
She went for my toes.
Pop, snap, pop, snap, snap!
I was mortified. Was it too late to turn back? I looked around in a panic but everyone else in the small room seemed to be doing just fine. Then, she grabbed my leg, found the pointiest and sharpest part of her elbow, and tried to pierce it through my calf.
OUUUUUUUCHHHHHHH.
She did this about 15-20 times up and down both of my legs before I regained consciousness. By this time, she was now on top of the table with me in a super human tae-kwon-do pose. I braced for impact. We made eye contact for a brief second and even that was painful. She looked towards the lower region of my stomach.
Please, Lord, no…
BAM. Sucker punch to the gut. I writhed in pain underneath her steel grip. I tried to fight it but I was in and out and no longer sure if this was my real life or some sort of night terror. It continued on for what turned out to be the longest 45 minutes of my entire life. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, she folded me into a pretzel, sat on me, and then picked me up by my head. The grand finale.
Needless to say, Thai massages and American massages are very, very different. Thai massages are actually more like the World Race.
Same same, but different. Let me explain.
Walking out of that torture chamber was the most liberating feeling in my entire life. (This may have been because I was so thankful I didn’t die in there, but still). The excrutiating pain was temporary, and left me feeling ready to sprint a marathon.
There have been many moments on the race that are difficult and painful. Some things small, some things big. Ie: Having to take ‘squatty’ showers because the ceiling is not tall enough, watching beautiful children bow down and worship plastic idols in ‘sacred’ temples, having to say goodbye every month to people who have touched your heart in unimaginable ways, seeing pictures of snow back home and getting the gut wrenching feeling of missing the people you love the most during one of the most precious times of the year… All of these moments leave a little heaviness on the heart, sometimes a lot of heaviness. But, much like my Thai-torture-massage, I know that all of these moments are worth it. I know these experiences are forever changing me, and in turn, the course of my life. I know that all of it is for God’s glory, so I know that the pain is purposeful.
‘Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.’ James 1:2-4
So, you see? Same same, but different.
