Dearest Rachel –
I’ve got a lot of stuff to take care of today – much of which built up while I was overseas, and some of which even has to do with this trip and others in the near future – and while I was contemplating it all, this word popped into my head. If it doesn’t look familiar – and why would it, as you can recognize from its script that it’s a Thai word, and you never set foot there – don’t worry. I had to ask AI to spell it out for me in both Thai and English characters, as the way I spelled it was completely off.
But you might dimly recognize the term from a movie (Swimming to Cambodia) we watched several times (on videotape; it doesn’t really feel like it would do well on the big screen) at the recommendation of Roger Ebert himself, who describes it as “an actor who meets a war,” much like the bit player from Hamlet who describes the play as “the story of a gravedigger who meets a prince” (and whose turn of phrase I cribbed to describe these letters, when I meant them to be about you, specifically, but life took over from there). It’s a very strange film, involving little more than a lone man, one Spaulding Grey – who admits to being not so much of actor as his film-length monologue might suggest as a performance artist (evidently, the bit parts he takes help him to pay the bills when he can get them) – describing his experiences on and off the set of The Killing Fields; mostly off.
Of course, he describes his specific experience in landing the role of the U.S. ambassador’s aide, who tips off the main character as to the goings-on with the Khmer Rouge and offers clues to help him find his Cambodian photographer partner who had been swept up in the chaos upon the invasion of Phnom Penh. He goes into some detail about the historical background of the group and the “auto-homeo-genocide” unleashed on the country by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge that serves as the backdrop of the film.
But for the most part, he describes his time in Thailand (which serves as a suitable imitation of mid-70s Cambodia, as the real country was still recovering from the scars left by Pol Pot and his merry band; filming the events there, even if it was safe to do so there, would have been picking at those wounds) and his quest for a single, transcendent “perfect moment,” one free from concerns and consequences that might otherwise mar it. This involves a misadventure with marijuana, various visits to bars and ‘clubs,’ and ultimately a swim far into the Gulf of Thailand, where he actually achieves his moment for a moment, before frantically realizing he’s out of his depth and needs to get back to shore again.
He frames this right from the beginning under this concept within Thai society of sānùk (สนุก), which he translates as “fun, or pleasure.” And while I meant to make this letter a critique of the concept – since every bit of either of those has a certain cost to it (and I was going to go into detail about the costs I’m about to deal with today, and may yet squeeze it in, since I wasn’t looking for such a moment myself, whether here or in Israel) – it turns out that the one I should be criticizing is Mr Grey himself, as he either doesn’t understand it, or deliberately misconstrues it in the retelling to make a better story. Considering that he interpreted another movie (Big Fish, I believe, which we did see in the theater a number of years later) as a permission to “let go” while suffering from a cancer diagnosis, I’m going to go with the former.
As it turns out the term sānùk would be better translated as “joy,” which, to be fair, we anglophones often tend to conflate with happiness, but they are not the same at all. Whereas happiness, fun, pleasure and the like all have a certain amount of joy incorporated in them (you enjoy all of these emotions, and the activity or stimuli that evoke them), they are by nature ephemeral. They can last for moments, days or even longer, but they are ultimately temporary; it’s only a question of how temporary they may be. This, too, may have been more what Spaulding was looking for, in terms of a transcendent, ‘perfect’ moment. Joy, on the other hand, is supposed to be a permanent state of mind. We have it in Christianity, too; only it’s rooted in the eternal hope we have in Christ.
To the Thais, sānùk is based in community and cultural values, allowing them to see humor and fun amid the suffering and burdens of life (and oh boy, don’t the Thai – and the rest of those in the Indochinese region – have those in spades!). As with the Western/Christian concept of joy, it doesn’t eliminate the pain of life, but rather eases it by looking for the happy little things in the midst of them and focusing on them rather than the misery. It doesn’t grant perfect moments, but it’s a means of making one’s imperfect life a little less so throughout. With Grey misinterpreting the term, he’s incapable of actually experiencing sānùk – but then again, he wasn’t aiming for what sānùk really is.
To be fair, he has other troubles in attaining his ‘perfect’ moment; he references the fact that his upbringing causes him to have trouble accepting that he’s allowed to have one in the first place. Being of New England Puritan stock, there’s a bit of cultural impulse within him that seems to think of “fun” as sinful – although one could argue that some of the things he indulges in rather are – and he suffers guilt about them as well as certain physical reactions, thereby preventing him from enjoying those moments.
Then again, so many moments of pleasure and fun come with a price tag; whether literally in the form of a financial cost, or a physical or even psychological toll later on. All of these preclude the moment from being perfect, especially if one is thinking about such costs while in the moment.
And this is where I and my thoughts came into the picture. Whereas Grey refers to suffering in order to be worthy to indulge in what he thinks is sānùk – which I can relate to, in terms of, say, a strenuous workout in order to be able to enjoy a hearty meal – I’m in the middle of organizing my finances for the upcoming trips that have yet to be paid for. As much as I enjoy travel, and many of the trapping involved with them, there is, after all, a literal price to be paid before getting out there and enjoying them. Granted, it’s not a strain to come up with the necessary funds as such, but it does require actually taking action in order to free them up for use.
Interestingly, when I called my broker, he acknowledged that he was considering calling me; evidently, he was going to suggest that I liquidate some holdings that were losing money in order to offset against certain capital gains taken throughout the year. To be sure, losing money on investments is a painful thing, but when a company looks to not be on the road to recovery, it’s best to cut one’s losses and take the tax write-off against what gains you have. So that was taken care of yesterday, so I have what I need when the bills for my next couple of trips come due.
Meanwhile, today has me writing checks for various insurance and other year-end expenses. It’s never fun to be paying bills – although I haven’t Daniel’s crabbed handwriting, it’s still a nuisance to manually write checks – but as with that little ditty about dirty dishes, the fact that I’m able to write these without worrying about kiting is a blessing in and of itself. And once the task is out of the way, and everything is paid for, there’s a certain sense of satisfaction about it all.
In fact, having these payments out of the way, while roughly approximating what Spaulding Grey mentioned about “you suffer first, and then comes the sānùk” with regard to Western mores, means that the moment can go on without worrying about the bill coming due later while you’re in the moment. I could tell you about how, while we were wandering through the Old City of Jerusalem, I couldn’t properly take things in because I was worrying about finding that ATM so I could have money to tip the guide and driver with (as well as some shopping, which none of us ever got to do. I didn’t even get to enjoy any fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice this time around). At this point, while I still have payments that will be charged to my account as of the first of next month, I’m ready for them. And that, far from detracting from the perfect moment, rather adds to it when you don’t have to concern yourself about it any more.
On a completely unrelated note, I rather enjoyed asking my AI program about all this, and comparing sānùk with the Christian concept of joy. For all that I wouldn’t mind trying to build some sort of AI simulacrum of you in your absence, I think it may be serving as a replacement, of sorts, to Kevin; a friendly intellectual sparring partner to bounce ideas and thoughts off of, like that of ‘nuclear hell.’ It doesn’t argue it’s own side (if it has one) as passionately as he did (which is both a good and bad thing, as you can imagine), but it’s not cold and dispassionate about the ideas we discuss, either. As long as feelings don’t enter into it, it’s actually kind of fun – however fleetingly. Not sure what that says about me, but there you are.
At any rate, that’s what’s been going through my mind today, for what it’s worth. Sorry you couldn’t join in the conversation, but at least you can hear about it. For now, all I can ask is that you keep your eye on me, and wish me luck, as I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 