Finding my sanuk

Perched atop a faux elephant in Chiang Saen, searching for my sanuk.

These last few days I have not been myself (or maybe I have been myself; remember that Khun Ketsara, in revealing the dark side of my Buddha nature, said that I do not know nearly as much about myself as I think I do). My mood has been as dark and heavy as the monsoon sky.

This morning as we were walking around Chiang Saen, trying to make sense of this oddly empty Buddha theme park along the banks of the Mekong River with its faux dragons and faux temples and faux elephants, Ketsara asked me what had happened to my sanuk.

Sanuk is the Thai word for happiness or pleasure. But that is just the half of it. Sanuk is a central part of Thai life. In Thai culture, you find sanuk in all of life. Daa sanuk means to enjoy giving someone a hard time; thuuk daa sanuk is to be the person to whom someone is giving a hard time and enjoying it.

If you’re someone who just likes to talk it’s called khui sanuk; if you like to work it’s thamngan sanuk. The concept of sanuk goes way beyond just enjoying a good laugh or having fun at a party; in Thailand, sanuk is almost like a form of religion (and, really, sanuk is part of Buddhism—finding the enjoyment in all of life, the good and the bad).

So when Ketsara asked me what had happened to my sanuk, I knew what she meant. I’d lost my mojo.

But I had a solution. I handed her my camera and told her to take my picture. “Where?” she said. I told her to just watch me.

I jogged over to a pair of 20-foot-high bejeweled tin elephants and climbed up the rickety stairs to the top, climbing in to a golden basket perched atop one of the faux pachyderms. I sat down and looking down at the plaza that was empty except for Ketsara standing there holding my camera, began a royal wave, as I imagined the queen did it, to my single loyal subject. I waved and smiled and Ketsara, giggling, took my photo.

My sanuk was back.