A Totally Definitely Very Incredibly Interesting and Exciting Encyclopedia by Ting Cherdchai

A Totally Definitely Very Incredibly Interesting and Exciting Encyclopedia by Ting Cherdchai

A - Apple
I like apples.
Just kidding. I just thought that’d be funny.
Actually, I hate apples.
Not because they taste bad. Because I like eating apples. They taste pretty good. But I despise them when it
comes to drawing. But because of how many I’ve had to draw before.
Apples are in that gray area where they’re not easy enough to get right the first time but not challenging
enough to be fun or rewarding in any way whatsoever. Every time I draw one I lose a few brain cells.
It’s the same thing with every other common fruit (though not quite as bad)! I don’t want to spend another
two seconds of my life sketching a banana and a pear hanging out on a white tablecloth, much less another
two hours!

(me painting an apple)
B - Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress
I feel like it’s a little risky to mention this book to a teacher because it was assigned in class…
But I’m doing it anyway.
So I really disliked this book. So much, in fact, that I wrote an 8 page ‘essay’ about it. The essay itself is not
great. The last time I reread it it felt stiff and awkward (probably because it was written in one sweaty go).
I could have done a better job. But it was a lot of fun. I hope I find another book I hate so I can feel
productive again.
C - Card

I was a pretty big introvert when I was younger. I didn’t really enjoy hanging out with people. As a result, I
was very close with myself.

I visited my old house a while ago and came across a little rainbow store-bought birthday card. On it, it
went a little something like this:

Dear Ting,

Happy birthday!

- Ting

Ever since then, I’ve been keeping up the tradition of making a birthday card for myself every year.
D - Diary

E - Eggs

Way too many times an idea pops up in my head and I need to write it down before I forget. Maybe it’s a
fun metaphor. Maybe it’s a word I just remembered existed.

Maybe it’s a full scene. Or a full painting. Or an idea for an entire paragraph.

In a rush, I’ll write down a word or phrase that sums up all my thoughts and go, “Yeah, I’ll flesh this out
later” or “I can do this some other time.” So I just leave an unfinished thought in the Notes app.

Usually, I’m thorough enough. Sometimes I describe every single detail in the painting I’m envisioning, so
that I can reimagine it the next time I see the notes.

And sometimes not.

Sometimes I write something down and forget about it and have no idea what it means when I read it
again later.

This is an example of one of those times.
F - Fake

My grandma is half Hakka, half Thai. My grandpa is Hakka (from China). My dad’s parents were both
Teochew (but born in Thailand in Chinese communities).

(fun fact, the Teochew were the people who carried these rickshaws:

because they couldn’t find jobs when they first came to Thailand. รถเจ๊ก literally translates to ‘car’ ‘Chinese
person’.)

Anyway, I’m technically like 1/16 Thai, so I look East Asian. And I have a Chinese nickname.

But when my grandpa and great grandparents came to Thailand they changed their last names to be Thai.
My dad’s parents never taught him Teochew. My mom’s family speaks Hakka, but she unlearned it for
Cantonese before she could teach me.

Note: It also means that no one’s first language was Mandarin. They only learned it later in life because it
was more useful.

I’m terrible at Mandarin and don’t know any Hakka or Teochew. I like to say that my second language is
English and my third is Thai. I don’t really feel like I have a first language even though it should be Chinese.

So sometimes I feel fake. Like a fake Chinese. And a fake Thai.

G - Girls

Everyone’s heard that story of that girl who was excluded because she was too boyish. She was never seen in
a skirt. The other girls would giggle and gossip behind her back about how her hair was so short she looked
like a boy.

Now back to me.

It was the complete opposite where I grew up. Liking pink was a sign of weakness. Painting your nails
made you a wimp. Dressing up was downright disgraceful.

As a result, I repressed everything about myself that was ‘girly’. I pretended like flowers made me want to
puke. I learned to spit at the sound of the word ‘fashion’.

Like many things I did to please others, I deeply regret it now.

H - Hair

I have always had this haircut.

(me in 2nd grade)

(me in 7th grade)
The length varies depending on how far in the year we are (now, I cut my hair once a year, the last day of
summer break), but I’ve always had the same basic style. I can’t imagine myself without it.

But it’d be great not to have to cut my bangs so often.

I hope I decide to change it eventually. I don’t want to look exactly like this for the rest of my life.

I - Interlochen

Between 7th and 8th grade, I went to an art summer camp in Michigan. When I first got there I cried a lot
and got sick (presumably because of the jet lag).

But here are some less sad stories:
- The bread of a sandwich I got was so soft it literally fell apart in my hands and by the end I was
just holding mustardy ham
- I tried Cheez-its for the first time and they were amazing but I haven’t been able to find any in
Thailand
- It actually got very hot (climate change) which I was completely unprepared for
- The Creative Writing class was the only one I enjoyed (and my major was Visual Arts)
- Some of the girls in my cabin wrote fake love letters to a boy in Chinese so he couldn’t read it --
they also suggested writing them in Thai so that literally no one could read it except me
- The fourth of July parade was cancelled because of a thunderstorm (which I’m still really upset
about) and we had to hide underground for hours
- I was the only Thai person in the camp
- It took over 24 hours to get back to Bangkok
- I slept at 5 a.m. and woke up at 7 p.m. on my first day back

J - Japan

The aggressive whir of the van’s overworked engine was the only sound I heard. My dad’s frameless glasses
reflected the dim glow of his reading light. My mom sat silently beside him, unmoving save for the shaky
ride. She was awake, but only barely.

Staring out the windows into a blur of dark silhouettes flying past, I said, “I want to go to the place with
the cherry blossoms.”

They turned. I didn’t see their faces but I knew they were confused. Their 6 year old daughter sitting in the
back seat on a long ride to Bangkok, awake and thinking about cherry blossoms.

“Where’s the country with the cherry blossoms?” I asked.

After a moment’s pause, my mom’s voice answered, “Korea,” barely audible over the buzz of the road
beneath the tires.

“I want to go to Korea,” I said.

“Wait,” she corrected herself in Thai. “No. That’s Japan.”

“Okay, then.” I turned away from the windows and lied down, my feet pushing against my dad’s bags and
business suits. “I want to go to Japan.”

K - Knee

I don’t like exams. I don’t know anyone who does.

But 4 years ago, Ting was very different....

Even though I liked exams (they were quiet), I was still relieved when they were over. Who isn’t?

I was sitting in the breezeway drawing something weird when I saw my mom’s car part outside the school
gate. Out of excitement, I shoved all my stuff in my bag in less than a second and started running. I was
probably smiling. My bag probably wasn’t zipped all the way, but I didn’t care. My pencil had grazed the
top of my knee in my rush and I probably had a line of graphite across it, but I was too happy to think
about it.

Because no longer would I have to worry about exams.

(for another few months at least)

I leaped into the car. My mom said hello. But instead of asking how the exams went, like she usually did,
she frowned and said, “What happened to your leg?”

I looked down and at the sight of fresh blood I let out a gasp.

In excitement, I’d cut my knee open with the tip of my pencil.
L - Leg

I know the previous entry was just about my knee.

But here’s another leg-related thing.

I can’t stop shaking my leg. Constantly. All the time. During class. During tests. At home when I’m doing
nothing. Sometimes both legs. I wonder if it distracts anyone in class.

I don’t understand why.
M - Martial arts

I used to do taekwondo.

That’s me.

Last semester I asked my mom if I could learn kung fu. She asked me where the heck I thought I could do
that which was a fairly reasonable concern. But I argued that I needed exercise, and I like hitting things, so
I thought I could combine the two.

Now I do Muay Thai. Because there’s a place where I can do that not too far from my house.

I still wish I could try kung fu though. It sounds really cool.

N - Nightmares

For a long time I’ve heard extremely loud noises (in my head) when I’m trying to sleep. Usually they’re
scary and pretty painful and make me force my own eyes open because my ears hurt. They keep me from
falling asleep.

The first time it ever happened, I heard a loud scream in the middle of the night and woke up in a start
thinking someone was in danger.

Most times, it’s a scream of some kind. Usually there’s a monster screaming something.

But one nightmare always stands out from the rest...

I was standing behind Donald Trump.

And then he turned around and screamed at me.

Make of that what you will.

O - Other half

“They cut off their prisoners’ arms!”

I shuddered. I didn’t really feel like hearing about another gruesome historical atrocity.

My Social Studies teacher stood tall behind her desk, continuing anyway. “And that’s only half of what they
did!”

I braced myself for another potential nightmare, but then my deskmate leaned over.

In a low voice, he whispered, “The other half were the legs.”

…

I still laugh about it to this very day.

P - Pant

“Sorry, but that’s the biggest size we have.”

When I lean back my mind starts to stress
Are my shoulders getting wider or would that be my chest?
I’ve always been told not to care how I dress
But my wardrobe’s years old and it’s honestly a mess.

I’m telling myself that I need some new threads
But as I leave the car I only feel dread.
I wish I was at home, just lying in bed.
Because I know what awaits me in the shops straight ahead.

Flashbacks to all of those family dinners
Snickering and pointing or ‘I hope you get thinner’.
I sigh as they apologize.
I walk out empty-handed.
Yeah, it was a little disheartening.
But by now, I’m used to it.

Q - Q-tips

Today, I call Q-tips ‘cotton buds’.

But a long time ago, I forced myself to call plasters ‘Band-aids’ and cotton buds ‘Q-tips’ and sticky notes
‘Post-its’. I had never even seen those brands in my life. I only called them that because of my American
teacher.

I saw him as a great man. I believed everything he did. But we all kind of did. English was a fun class, and
he was the only white person we talked to on a daily basis. We’d been told that they were… ‘better’ in some
way.

I believed what he said about our language being primitive, being far less evolved than English. He (for
pretty bigoted reasons) believed Thailand was ‘too free’. I unfortunately started thinking the same way. He
said Thais were less intelligent. I unfortunately believed him. That was unavoidable. No one was there to
dispute anything.

I grew to be ashamed of being Thai.

Moving away felt awful in the moment, but now I’m glad I did. Because if I hadn’t, I would be entirely
mindless, feeding on his beliefs and his opinions and his world.

And I would probably lie in bed wishing I was American.

R - Residential

For some reason, in my sister’s school they call camping ‘residential’.

‘Residential’ is just an excuse for me to talk about camping without using the ‘C’ box.

I hate camping.

Two years ago I went to band camp, and even though I can honestly and objectively say I had a good time,
subjectively, I didn’t.

How does that make sense?

It doesn’t.

The first time I went to school camp, I only signed up because they promised we’d go spelunking. But then
AFTER we got there, they sat us all down and said ‘actually we can’t go into the cave because it, like, rained
or something and now there’s a hole in the cave so we can’t go inside’.

Even when I was 6, I was like ‘what?’

SPELUNKING WAS THE ONLY REASON I SIGNED UP FOR IT AND WE DIDN’T DO IT BECAUSE
THERE WAS ‘A HOLE IN THE CAVE’.

The rest of it was painful. The whole time, I felt like crying.

I didn’t sign up again the next year.

Unfortunately, in my new school it was mandatory. They said going on it would boost your overall grade by
10% but that was definitely a lie. I spent most of the time there wishing I was at home. The rest of the time
I spent dreaming about what I’d do once I got home.

That’s why I don’t go on camping trips in RIS, even if other people say they’re fun.

Because I simply hate the idea of camping.

S - School for good and evil

Good and evil are almost never black and white.

That’s why I really love The School for Good and Evil, a children’s book series I’m so glad I picked up when
I was younger.

It was a much needed lesson that good and evil are so much more complicated than ‘the good guys’ and ‘the
bad guys’.

I honestly can’t say if I would recommend the series itself because I have lost the ability to view it
objectively and just unconditionally love every single thing about it, but I would really like it if there were
more children’s books with that same message.

There are no ‘villains’ or ‘heroes’, just people.

T - Three Dimensional Characters

I like to think I’m not AWFUL at writing three dimensional characters (though I haven’t ACTUALLY
written something in so long my opinion on my writing is probably outdated).

However, I think my biggest problem regarding two-dimensional characters is being one myself.

I’m scared that I might come off as 1 single trait: artist.

I do think it’s a big part of my personality, but not so big that it’s the only thing that I am. I’m just afraid
that I’ll become like one of those characters whose only trait is being gay because the show needed
‘diversity’.

(a comic I’m pretty proud of that’s kind of related--if I’m anything but an artist I’m an artist who is afraid
of math)
U - Ugliness
Some of my old art is just… highly displeasing to the eyes (to say the least). And if it isn’t… then I’ll feel like
I haven’t improved.
So either way, unpleasant feelings.
I’m really scared one day I’ll look back on the stuff I make today and be just as disgusted. But also kind of
looking forward to it. Because it means I’ll have improved.

I can’t believe I once thought this was good.

V - Visa

It’s nerve-racking to wait 12 hours in line in the sweltering Bangkok heat and be told your photo which was
officially taken by someone who takes pictures for visas isn’t acceptable without getting a single reason why
and you have to go take another photo that looks exactly the same and wait another 12 hours in line for the
man behind the glass to eye you suspiciously and ask you really strange questions that are designed more to
break your spirit than get information and then after a sleepless 8 hour flight of filling out that long form
confirming you haven’t brought any snails onto the plane and starting to doubt your sanity because oh God
what if I do have cell cultures on me and then finally landing in that foreign airport and handing over your
passport and travel documents only for the airport guy to narrow his eyes and inspect every millimeter of
your passport with a tiny magnifying glass he isn’t even trying to hide and after 15 minutes following
visible disappointment that it is indeed a legitimate passport a sudden sneer: where is this hyper specific piece
of paper which was never mentioned by anybody to be required and contains no new information about anyone no we
will not accept you showing us the digital version? and then your parents’ gaping mouths silently screaming at
each other we were supposed to print that? and all three of you are escorted to a room filled with dead-eyed
people including an alarming amount of youths who look like they have been there for a really long time and
then panicking because you’re beginning to spiral wondering if you’re going to be trapped in an airport
literally all the way across the globe from your home for the rest of your life--

And then suddenly this random guy walks in, turns to you and says “Okay, you guys can leave.”

Without providing any further explanation.

Leaving you thinking, “What even just--?”

W - We Are One

When I was younger I wrote a story called ‘We Are One’ about the world flooding and my friends and me
embarking on a Noah-esque journey to China or something. I forget where the story goes from there. All I
can remember is seaweed-kelp juice, sitting in a tree and a half-eaten sausage.

I once wanted to become a writer, you know.

X - X-mas

Let’s ignore the fact that I have personally never called Christmas ‘X-mas’, and the fact that some people
get offended by it.

I like the idea of Christmas.

Outside the window the streets are caked with snow. Children run by, giggling, making snowmen, jolly as
can be. Gleaming ornaments drip from delicate branches of my Christmas tree, aglow with starry lights.
The scent of baking gingerbread and chocolate chip cookies wafts through the air. I curl up on my armchair
in a warm, fuzzy, hand-knit blanket, dreaming of my prince who will kiss me under the mistletoe at
midnight. I close my eyes, comforted by the crackle of the fireplace. I take a sip from my red mug, tasting
sugary chocolate and pillow-like marshmallows. Candy canes dance in my head and in the distance I hear
Santa Claus’ bellowing laugh. I smile at the vision of my idyllic family in my equally idyllic life.

But of course that can’t happen.
Snow in Bangkok is probably the first sign of the apocalypse. If I woke up and saw the streets caked in
snow, I would scream. The sound of children giggling is one of the most irritating things to hear at night,
followed by children crying. I’ve never made a snowman in my life even when I played in the snow twice so
I’m convinced they’re not possible and movies are just making it up. The Christmas tree we take out once a
year is uncomfortably dusty and completely covered in cobwebs. I do not like gingerbread. I do not have a
prince or a warm fuzzy hand-knit blanket or even an armchair. Plus, every time I think of mistletoe I think
of Loki killing Balder. I can’t figure out how to put marshmallows in hot chocolate without all of them
disintegrating within the first half a second and I hate candy canes. I’ve never even been told stories of
Santa Claus, just stories of other kids being told stories of Santa Claus. I definitely don’t have an idyllic
family and I’m working on the second part.
Sorry for all that negativity. I adore Christmas. I just wish I could ‘properly’ celebrate it. And someday, I
will.
But for now all I have are YouTube videos about other people celebrating YouTube.
And speaking of YouTube...
Y - Youtube
Like that transition? It’s what YouTubers do.
A weird fact about me is that I don’t like watching movies because they’re too long, but I love watching
really long YouTube videos. I practically salivate at the sight of a 3 hour long video essay (I recently
watched Hello Future Me’s video about the Last Airbender).

I’ve seen Sideways’ video about Cats 2019 what must be more than 5 times now.
Z - Zip Zap Zop

Why don’t we end on a negative note?

I’m not a fan of icebreaker games. Mostly because of my fear of people. But here are some I ESPECIALLY
HATE:

Starting slow, one I mildly dislike is Zip Zap Zop, where you just zip and zap and zop to people in the
circle by pointing at them. I don’t remember what you even do besides that but I know that I disliked it.
And also that it starts with a Z, which is the only reason why I’m mentioning it. It wouldn’t even be on the
list if I didn’t have to name this section that.

I hate the one where you all stand in a row according to some order like the first letter of your last name,
but instead of a line you all stand on one stair step all the way at the top of the staircase and are not
allowed to step off (or you lose). That just leads to a lot of uncomfortable touching between literal
strangers and the lingering fear that the ambulance might arrive too late.

That one where you all sit in a giant circle and name the names + 1 fact of every single person before you.
It’s incredibly easy for the first person and almost impossible for the last person. Especially because
everyone’s staring at you stonily and getting offended when you don’t remember their name and when you
ask someone what their name is sometimes they literally don’t answer or answer so quietly that you say it
wrong but everyone is too polite to tell you.

I absolutely despise the Human Knot game, where everyone stands in a circle and someone comes in and
jumbles up all your arms until you’re a sweaty, stale-breathy, non-Covid friendly pile and you somehow
have to untangle yourselves from it, which usually involves many grunts and curses and pops in limbs and
being kicked in the elbows with dirty shoes.

We already know this one isn’t going to be fun because it involves taking off your shoes. Everyone except
for one gets in a circle (why is it always a circle?) and takes off their shoes. Then that unlucky person stands
in the middle (which is horrible and I hate it) and says a fact about themselves. At the count of three,
everyone who that fact is also true about must get up and run to an empty spot (where someone else’s shoes
are). If you can’t find an empty spot, you’re the next center-person. Honestly, the last time I played this
game I just lied the whole time and didn’t move even if something was true about me.

This is technically not an icebreaker game, but something so awful that I still remember vividly from 5th
grade. In the entire group of students, I did not know the name of a single one because they were all from a
different campus. In this game, we each had to take a ‘leap of faith’ off a platform onto a net like 15
centimeters off the ground which every other student would be holding. If they fail… well, it’s a good thing
the school made you sign that liability waiver! Nobody wanted me to do the leap of faith, least of all
myself. But the teacher forced me to do it. So I had to. I obviously hit the ground. Hard. Probably would
have ripped the net apart if the other students hadn’t stumbled.

So that’s it. I certainly have more, but I think 6 is enough. Sorry to end this encyclopedia on such a ranty
note. But I guess hating these icebreaker games is a pretty important part of my personality. No, I don’t
hate having to introduce myself. I just hate these games because by the end I don’t remember the name of a
single person despite being covered in their germs from head to toe.