Titisa Jeamsakul (Ice)

Colours in
Thai

สี

สีขาว คือ สีของชุดยูนิฟอร์ม
4ปีมานี่ เราใส่เสื้อกับกางเกงขาสั้น-ขายาวสีขาวมาตลอด
ตอนนี้เราเลยเลิกใส่กางเกงไปเลย
แต่เสื้อขาวนี่ยังโอเคอยู่
สีขาวเนี่ยมันสกปรกง่าย ต้องระวังไม่ให้เปื้อน

สีเหลือง เป็น สีแทนความศักดิ์สทิ ธิ์
แลว้ ก็เป็นสีที่ทาใหนึ้กถึงตอนเด็กๆ
คิดถึงตอนที่เคยเดินบนชายหาดตอนเย็นๆ ตอนพระอาทิตย์ตก
สีเหลือง เป็นตัวแทนของพระพุทธศาสนา

เราชอบสีสม้
แล้วก็ชอบสีแดง เพราะสีมันคล้ายๆกับจีวรของพระ เพราะอย่างนั้น
เราเลยมีเสื้อสีสม้ ซะเยอะเลย

แล้วสีส้มก็สีเหมือนหรือคล้ายๆกับสีของทุ่งนาข้าว ถ้าเราแก่ จะเกษียณอายุ
บวชป็นพระแล้วไปใช้ชีวิตตามทุ่งนา ปลูกข้าวกิน

สีเขียว เป็นสีที่ทำให้นึกถึงตอนเด็กๆ
โตมาแถวบ้านนอก รายล้อมด้วยธรรมชาติ ก่อนจะมีตึกมาสร้าง

เราไม่ชอบสีเทา เพราะสีมันเหมือนสีของปูนซีเมนต์
มันแย่งความทรงจาตอนเด็กของเราไป

Thoughts

How can you know that a place is home? Or the feeling when you say, “I’m home!’ How can you tell or even describe it? Can I look, touch, smell, hear or taste it?

When I first moved to Singapore, I really missed Bangkok. Whenever I got on the plane to fly back to visit, the first thing I would crave even in mid-air was the Thai version of Milo packet drink. Once you’ve tasted it, you are home!

Because Milo is different, you know? Singaporean Milo and Thai Milo taste totally different. Don’t let the appearance of the brand, the green packet, or design deceive you. You all should go try and let me know.

I guess not all Milo packet drinks are created the same. They probably adjust and adapt the flavour according to each country’s preference

Am I a Milo packet drink?

Hmm, let me think about it.

Same, but different like me.

The nostalgic taste of Thai Milo is familiar and comforting, reminding me of my family and how I used to be. The unexpected flavour of Singaporean Milo was a new discovery, the start of my new identity and finding out who I want to be.

When I first moved to Singapore, I was naïve and ignorant. I just wanted to find a way to escape from Thailand, I wanted to be independent and be away from my family. So, I grabbed whatever opportunity was in front of me. The Tuition Grant scholarship awarded by Singapore’s Ministry of Education gave me the chance to study for my diploma in Singapore.

I got what I wanted here, but I still craved that green Milo packet drink. Of course, I went to buy one in Singapore to satisfy my longing, but it tasted so bitter. It was foreign and unexpected, but that was the taste of my life back then, too.

When I missed home, I would make video calls to my parents. I’m close to my mum, so talking to her is always easy. My dad and I are still trying to work out on our daily conversation. I can make use of the Milo packet drink as an excuse to talk to him as he has quite severe colour blindness.

Me: Do you still drink Milo?

Dad: Not really, that was a long time ago.

Me: Do you remember… What is the colour of the Milo packet drink?

Dad: (Silent)

Dad: Next time when I visit 7-Eleven, I will take a picture and show you OK?

Me: (Silent)

Well, he is not wrong. Whatever colour I see in the photo later, that will be my colour perception of Milo packet drinks. And whatever my dad sees, that would be his colour of Milo packet drinks. Obviously, we aren’t going to see the same colour, but that didn’t matter to me. The main point is, we had a fun conversation about his journey to 7-Eleven. In the end, he didn’t care what colour Milo packet drinks were. How can I almost forget that he can’t see colour?

Like what a superhero once said, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

Explaining and describing colours to Dad is really complicated. Once, when we were shopping, Dad asked: “What is the colour of this shirt?”

My brain processed like crazy to find a point of reference so that I could describe the colour of the shirt to him. It is never easy to find the word. This shirt is blue, but what type of blue? Sky blue, steel blue, baby blue, cyan blue …

In the end, I told him, “This shirt is blue. I think it looks good on you. Let’s get it, Dad!”

As time passed by in Singapore, I’ve forgotten that my dad is colour blind.

Can someone tell me what a Thai Milo packet drink tastes like again? Perhaps when I go back to visit my family, I might crave Singaporean Milo flavour instead.

Because home is never a physical place.

Those green packet drinks can remind you of home. But it also depends on which home.

During the circuit breaker period in the Covid-19 pandemic in Singapore in 2020, my husband and I did not have a home. To prevent the spread of Covid-19, we practiced social responsibility. We were encouraged to stay home and only went out for essential needs.

Some people were here to work and study. Some didn’t get along with their own family. Some didn’t have a physical home to stay. They needed to find a place where they felt secure and truly belonged. I empathize with them.

Our new house was under renovation, so we moved to a temporary home. It was a nice condominium with a big swimming pool, a fitness area, nice views and great location. But when I felt down and discouraged, the fancy sofa couldn’t console, encourage or embrace me. Or when I felt scared, weak and desperate, the high ceiling would not be able to stand next to me and say: jia you!* The spacious bedroom with its toilet, king-sized bed, windows and walls could not fulfil my heart, bring laughter and happiness.

Thank you, pandemic that made us have no place to live, because I found out that when my husband and I were together, we are home. Wherever you are, that is my home.

Milo packet drinks will look the same wherever we are, but now I can tell you that the two flavours taste like my two homes.

* literally “add oil” in Mandarin to describe encouragement