Our family spent the first week in Bangkok, staying at the Siam Intercontinental Hotel until we found a home. One Saturday by the pool, I read in The Bangkok Post about places near Bangkok. I asked my wife if she wanted to see the bridge on the River Kwai. She mentioned she’d seen it in San Francisco in the movie, but I explained the real bridge was in Thailand near Kanchanaburi. She agreed, and we set off in our small car with a local driver.
After about 3 hours of our rocket ride, we arrived at the town near the River Kwai. We were thrilled to get out of the car, and when we looked around, we saw a small, very well-kept war Cemetery and parts of the original bridge built by the prisoners of war. We were the only people there, and we stood in the sunshine trying to visualize how that all came about and what happened to the men who built the bridge. We saw grave markers stretching into the distance and later learned more than 7,000 prisoners were buried there.
At that moment, we realized we were looking at something very, very powerful, and it was a long way away from the movie that played when we were at home. For the first time, we all understood we were living in Thailand, halfway around the world from San Francisco, and that we weren’t tourists in another country; we were in our new home, anxious, excited, and ready for the adventures ahead.
Are we there yet? 