This month, one of our writers is moving out of the host family house and into a home of their own. They asked our team for advice, a little glimpse into other houses and rooms, to see what we have done to make ourselves comfortable, so far away from the familiar. Across oceans and many miles, distant from friends, family, pets, sometimes creature comforts, and many other things we hold dear, our Sticky Rice Staff share the little things that can make a house a home.
Kiera Hurley, 135 YinD
My room has slowly but surely become my little safe space in a far-off land. It’s an oasis, the place where I feel most at peace- calm in my body and mind. To make my little box of a room feel like my own, I’ve added some personal touches that continue to grow and expand with every experience I have.
The first touch that brought me comfort was a giant tie-dye peace sign tapestry. My aunt gave it to me before I went to college, and it’s been in all of my rooms since then. Having it here anchors me to feelings of home. Art has become an important expression of mine since coming here. I’ve decorated the walls with pieces I’ve created, my friends have created, or that we’ve made together. My friends and I are also big into sending each other postcards and letters, so I have many of these adorning the wall space. I don’t have much storage space, so a lot of my accessories also hang on my walls. My pashminas, hats, and bags are all funky, and I love seeing them displayed.
Thailand has become my home, so I’ve added a map of the country to see all of the provinces and make a note of where I’ve been. Usually, when I travel somewhere, I’ll collect something that also gets added to my space. These come in the form of artwork, jewelry, candles, books, cards, etc., all bringing me a sense of belonging.
One of my favorite additions to my room has been a colorful disco ball. At night, I’ll turn it on, and my room transforms into an LED dream. Luckily, I also have a small area where I can lay my yoga mat out and find home within myself. When it’s time to curl in for the night, I have an array of stuffed animals (8 to be exact) that keep me nice and cozy. All of my squishes have a story and all bring me comfort in some way.
My room is a continual work in progress, and my walls will probably be filled by the time I leave with posters or artwork I’ve collected or made, or been gifted. I’ve never had a room that feels so like me before, and that brings me so much joy. What started as an impersonal box in a stranger’s house has turned into my personal haven. My home away from home.
B. Harris, 136 YinD
I have always preferred my bedroom to be mostly minimalistic with only a few picture frames on the walls, a bed, and a TV. This minimalism helps me transition into sleep mode and have a good night’s rest. Therefore, I did not pack any decorations besides a few pictures and small figurines or knick-knacks when I came to Thailand. I have my own little compound on my host family’s property, which gives me the freedom to decorate it however I want. Despite that freedom, there’s not much that I have done to the place. For starters, I named my home “The Butterfly House.” The main reason for this name comes from the abundance of butterflies that hang around the home. The second reason is that I’m a very spiritual person, and in a lot of beliefs, the butterfly signifies transformation, rebirth, and playfulness. I feel this is an accurate symbol for me and how the Peace Corps has been.
The place itself features just one bedroom and a bathroom that’s outside on the side of the house. Because it’s just one bedroom, I used shelves and a wardrobe to divide the room into two parts: a living room and my “sleeping space.” In my living room, there’s a desk that I decorated with a picture of my loved ones and a small fan that I brought with me (one of the best things I’ve brought!). I use this space to practice yoga, and then turn it into a dance floor in the evening. My sleeping space is very simple, just my bed and a clothing rack. I try to keep my home free of any clutter because I believe that your space is a representation of your state of mind. Aside from the decorations, the most important thing that makes me feel at home is scents! I have various incense sticks, cones, and candles that I like multiple times a day. I buy them from Shopee, but my mother sent me some incense from home that I only burn on rare days. I highly recommend doing this if you’re able to.
Overall, I am very grateful for the space that I was provided and for being able to call this place my home for the next two years. Thank you for reading!
Laurel Finlay, 136 YinD
This week I moved into my third, and hopefully final home in Thailand. This is the first, and most likely only time I’ll have a home all to myself, so I’m consciously trying to soak in the luxury of a space I can curate fully to my liking, given the little resources for decoration that I have. The house is blue, cement, and has a picture frame of the king and queen cemented onto the wall. It soaks in natural light, and welcomes in creatures of all shapes and sizes (I have about fifty lizard roommates and a few mice).
I’ve been given a washer/ “dryer” combo, a beautiful wooden bed and mattress, and a fan that works tirelessly to keep my bedroom at a reasonable temperature. The rest I will slowly acquire through co-workers, hand-me-downs, and Lazada, the online store front of Thailand. I never realized all of the little things it takes to make a house feel like a home. Starting from scratch there are a million little things you realize you need, like a silverware tray, curtains for every window, and a stepping stool so you can hang art and clean anywhere over 6 feet. To make this truly feel like home, I’m working to make each space serve a purpose.
My yoga mat now lives in my empty living room, taking advantage of the ample space I have for recreating. Although a bathroom can be hard to decorate, I’ve made a space for all of my toiletries and try to play music every time I shower, giving me a sense of familiarity in this new space. I regularly burn incense in my kitchen, and try to show love to this space by keeping it as clean as possible. By far my favorite part of the home is my front patio, where I’ve hung my Eno hammock. This is the perfect spot for me to read, nap, and say hello to the many neighborhood dogs that patrol the road. I truly could spend all day sitting in front of my home and watching the world go by!
Ella Spear, 136 TESS
My grandparents inspire me. My grandfather is still working, working out, and following the routine he has been doing for years— all to stay healthy and, of course, to keep playing golf. No matter what challenges he faced throughout his life, one of the things he taught me is that attitude is everything. If you meet my grandfather and ask him, “How’s it going, Rod?” he will respond, “Living the dream!” It’s one lesson I learned by sheer repetition. You are what you do, you can become what you say, and your attitude towards your life can define it. Well, I didn’t bring my grandparents with me to Thailand, but they are one of the things that make my house feel like a home.
At first, I thought a garden would be my happy place — just like my grandmother’s and my mom’s are to me—but the ants ate all the plants as soon as the flowers started to appear. On a trip to a durian and cactus farm with my Peace Corps professor, I bought a cactus. It didn’t even have roots; they just cut it off of the mother plant and handed it to me in a plastic bag. My professor said it can basically survive on its own, which seemed like a perfect fit. I put it to the test by forgetting to plant it for three days after bringing it to my house. Eventually, I placed it in a cute brown pot, using cow manure and loam to cover its stumpy end. I watered it once and haven’t needed to water it since—it’s resilient. So, I named him Rod, short for Rodman. My grandfather. Now when I come home, he is waiting for me.
As Peace Corps volunteers, we learn that “things” can’t always be what we lean on for comfort. Usually, it’s the simple stuff—a small memento from home, a warm smile from a neighbor— that fills a Peace Corps crib with warmth. I’m grateful that my house has all the amenities I could ask for, but that’s not what makes it feel like home. It’s the familiarity I get from having Rod around reminding me to look at the bright side. I don’t usually say it out loud, but when I walk up to my door at the end of the day and see Rod basking in the afternoon sun, he’ll ask me, “How’s it going, El?” And of course, I have to reply, “Living the dream, Rod.”
Lilly Hromadka, 135 TESS
I have had the privilege to live in four different houses since arriving in Thailand. Two host families, one during training and one at site, and two of my own. I moved out of my host mom’s house into a big empty house in the next village over, where I didn’t know anyone. No one was happy about it, really, but I wasn’t going to complain. “Too far,” they said, of the 3.2 km ride down the main road, despite some of my fellow volunteers being double – or triple – that distance. “Too big!” they said. Which was valid. I was just one person, and had nothing but a refrigerator, a coffee table, a bed, and a clothing rack to fill 3 bedrooms, a spacious living room with high ceilings, and a long kitchen.
“Too empty.” they said, lamenting that I didn’t have people around to fill my space, to keep me company, to take care of me.
After only four months in my big empty house, my lovely co-teacher forcibly moved me into the house directly across the street from her. “HERE!” she said, throwing back the billowy white curtains just inside the sliding glass door. “This! This is a home.” She and her husband renovated the house for their daughter, and Teacher Su’s aging mother, to move into once Pim graduated from college. In the meantime, they told me, it’s for you. It was beautifully done, full of Western style amenities, a nice big bed, and the little things you don’t realize you need to furnish a home, like a vegetable peeler, 3 pairs of kitchen tongs, and nice containers to put the tissue boxes in.
Only a kilometer from my school, surrounded by my students and familiar faces, and just big enough for me to stretch out without getting lost. It feels safe. Now, I’ve been comfortably installed in this space for the past 8 months. I cherish it all, but what makes to feels most homey to me is the couch.
A few weeks after I was properly moved in, Teacher Su and her husband, Ernie, decided to upgrade their living room. Ernie is very particular about his comfort, and was no longer happy with his little blue couch. Naturally, after the fancy new model arrived from Global House, the old one was brought across the street to me. In rural Thailand, you don’t often find squashy, soft couches. They tend to sit on the floor, or spend time outside on plastic chairs, or stretch out in hammocks. In my first house, I had a mat on the floor. In this one, I had a bench, or my big bed. Decent, but still far from the ideal. The only “couch” I had known before was a beautifully crafted wooden bench. Stunning to look at, easy to clean, but not designed to sink into and relax after a long day, or curl up on at night under the lamplight, with a good book or a movie. Turns out, all the way across the world, squishy pillows was just what I needed to feel at home.
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