See Thailand Through My Lens
My name is Einar Meling, and I would like to welcome you to My Love for Thailand — a personal tribute to Thailand and its people.
It is written with gratitude for the kindness, stability, and sense of belonging that I have found here over many years.
I have lived in Thailand since 1994.
When I look back on my 30 years here, family life stands out as the most important part.
It began in 2002 and has shaped everything that followed.
My early years in Thailand were a time of discovery and work.
Later came family life, the upbringing of children, and, in recent years, a quieter life in the north of the country.
Over time, my life in Thailand has taken on a simple and natural rhythm:
-
1994 – My first visit to Thailand, when I met my future wife and stepson
-
1995–2005 – Ten years of building, investment, and working life in Thailand
-
2002–present – Twenty-four years of family life and the upbringing of our children
This website follows that journey.
Through a timeline of moments and memories, it shares how Thailand gradually became my home — not through any single event, but through time, relationships, and everyday life.
What you will find here are selected chapters that matter to me:
family, work, responsibility, and gratitude — and the quiet joy of watching life unfold.
Here begins the timeline of my 32 years in Thailand.
To follow the story, simply scroll down.
No clicks are needed.
1994- My First Weeks in Thailand - A Diving Vacation That Changed My Life
1994 became the turning point of my life. After many demanding years of work in Norway, I took a long break to recover and find new energy. My plan was originally to dive in Mexico, but at the last moment I changed my ticket to Thailand — a decision that shaped everything that followed.
When I arrived in Phuket, I was welcomed with kindness everywhere I went. At a small dive centre I met Sam, a Thai instructor, and his wife. They became my first friends in Thailand. Together we travelled to the Similan Islands on a simple fishing boat, diving among untouched coral reefs. The beauty of the sea and the warmth of the people left a deep impression on me.
During Songkran, Sam invited me to his village in the North. There I met Ann and her little son, Koh — only 13 months old at the time. I also met her father and other members of her family. The kindness and openness I felt during those days touched me deeply, without knowing that these people would one day become my own family.
That year I returned to Thailand twice more, staying for long periods, completing PADI courses, diving almost daily, and rediscovering a sense of freedom and peace that had been missing in my life. By the end of 1994, I was a certified PADI instructor — but more importantly, a new chapter in my life had quietly begun.
The photos capture these early moments — diving in the Similan Islands, village life in the North, and the first time I met Ann and little Koh, long before any of us could imagine the future that awaited us.
PART ONE:
Ten Years of Investments, Building, and Working in Thailand
1995-2005: Teaching scuba diving and bringing guests to the Similan Islands
2000-2002: Construction of my diving yacht at Koh Sire, Phuket
2002-2005: Continue the cruises to the Similan Islands on board the new yacht.
From 1995 until the Tsunami of 26 December 2004
Ten Years Teaching Scuba Diving - with Diving Cruises to the Similan Islands
Scuba diving has been my passion since I was 22. I earned my first certificate in the very week man landed on the moon — and from that moment, the ocean became my second home.
In 1995, that lifelong passion turned into a new beginning in Thailand. After months of preparation, I started teaching scuba diving, and Scandinavian Divers took its first breath of life.
The first photo shows our tiny booking office — simple, modest, and filled with excitement. Soon after came our rented liveaboard boat, Daranee, and with it the beautiful rhythm of sea life at the Similan Islands.
As our reputation grew, we took a big step forward. We rented a long-neglected warehouse near Bangla Road and transformed it into a full dive centre — stripped, cleaned, rebuilt, and reborn. Along one wall we built twenty bunk beds for guests arriving the night before our five-day cruises, or for those needing a night’s rest before flying home.
When everything was ready, nine Buddhist monks came to bless the new centre — a powerful and peaceful moment, their saffron robes glowing beneath our company logo. Hanging above them was something personal: a nearly life-size whale shark I crafted by hand, a symbol of the gentle giants our guests so often encountered at sea.
Inside, our Thai staff handled bookings in front of large Similan maps, and rows of new equipment filled the racks — wetsuits, BCDs, regulators, fins — everything ready for our expeditions aboard Daranee.
These were pioneering years, filled with long days, deep friendships, and a sense of purpose that grew with every cruise.
One proud moment came when the entire Board of PADI International visited our centre. After their inspection, Scandinavian Divers was awarded the prestigious status of PADI Five-Star Instructor Development Center — the highest level in professional scuba training.
Looking back, those early years remain among the happiest and most formative of my life at sea.
At Phuket: The Construction of My Diving Yacht - 'Viking of the Orient'
After years of operating aboard converted wooden fishing boats like Daranee, I had formed very clear ideas about what an ideal vessel for our five-day liveaboard expeditions should be like — in terms of safety at sea, stability, comfort, and practical use for divers.
Based on that experience, I made my own hand-drawn design and submitted it to the Phuket Marine Authorities.
After review, the plans were approved by the Marine Department in Bangkok, allowing construction to begin in October 2000 at a traditional boatyard on Koh Sire, just outside Phuket.
I did not work through contracts or large companies. Instead, the vessel was built hands-on, side by side with remarkable Thai steelworkers, welders, and craftsmen — men with deep practical knowledge, skill, and pride in what they were creating.
Over two years, the 35-metre liveaboard diving ship gradually took shape entirely from steel, combining Thai shipbuilding tradition with my Norwegian respect for safety and seaworthiness.
She was designed and registered to carry up to 50 people.
When Viking of the Orient was finally launched in 2002, she was not just a new vessel —
She was a shared achievement, built through trust, cooperation, and mutual respect between cultures.
The short video below shows my early sketches, the approval at the Marine Department, the laying of the keel, and the first steps of construction. It ends with a moment very close to my heart: my mother, as proud godmother, breaking the champagne over the bow at the launch ceremony.
Lean back, relax for seven minutes, and enjoy watching the 'Viking of the Orient' come to life.
After the video, the photos below capture the people and moments that shaped the ship’s journey from vision to reality.
On board 'Viking of the Orient' to the Similan Islands and beyond
With the completion of Viking of the Orient — our 35-meter liveaboard yacht built entirely in Phuket — a new and unforgettable chapter began. The Viking quickly became known among divers for her comfort, reliability, and unmistakable Thai craftsmanship: polished teak, curved woodwork, and the warm glow of handcrafted interiors.
Each week, guests from all over the world joined our five-day expeditions to the Similan Islands — nine emerald gems scattered across the Andaman Sea. Life on board followed a rhythm of its own. Mornings began with the soft hum of the engines and the first dive briefing; afternoons drifted by with laughter, stories, and the aroma of Thai dishes prepared by our talented chefs.
Between dives, we often took guests ashore to the Similans’ pristine beaches, or sailed toward the next dive site in the shimmering blue. Evenings brought golden sunsets, quiet conversations, and the kind of easy friendships that seem to form only at sea.
These were golden years — years of laughter, teamwork, new friendships, and the quiet pride of seeing our Thai crew shine. It was a time I will always carry in my heart.
When I look back today, it amazes even me to realise that, if I add up all the five-day cruises I made over the years — first with instructor Sam and his wife, then on Daranee and later on Viking of the Orient — the total time I actually lived at the Similan Islands amounts to almost three full years.
Perhaps that is why I came to know every dive site by heart, every current, every ridge, every coral head — the Similans became, in many ways, a second home.
And with that experience — nearly three years of my life spent living at the Similans — our cruises kept improving, season by season. Guests returned year after year, recommending us to friends and diving clubs in their home countries.
Two minutes in paradise — starting on the waves, then diving below, encountering whale sharks, manta rays, turtles, and the magic of the open sea.
Supporting the Tourism Authority of Thailand (TAT) in Thailand and in the USA
In the early 2000s, I had the opportunity to meet with the Chairwoman of the Tourism Authority of Thailand (TAT) to share some observations about the growing popularity of liveaboard diving cruises, including the kind we operated through Scandinavian Divers.
TAT expressed genuine interest and invited us to participate in several of their tourism exhibitions, both in Thailand and abroad. Although we would cover our costs, we were happy to accept and support their efforts.
We presented our Whale Shark Expeditions to the public in Bangkok and later in the United States, where we joined TAT exhibitions — first in Las Vegas, and later in Miami Beach. I remember how curious and engaged American visitors were at the TAT stand when we explained what our 5-day cruises to the Similan Islands were like aboard the Viking of the Orient.
These exhibitions helped generate interest and bookings, and we were glad to share a lesser-known side of Thailand’s beauty with an international audience.
Tourism is a vital part of Thailand’s economy and identity. If this website can play a small role in encouraging new or returning visitors to explore this remarkable country, that would be a meaningful outcome.
2003 - The Passing of My 86-Year-Old Mother - A Thai Farewell of Grace and Respect
Six months after she had blessed the Viking of the Orient as its proud godmother, my mother passed away peacefully in Phuket at the age of eighty-six.
Thai friends, hotel staff, our crew, and local monks came together to arrange a touching Buddhist farewell — simple, graceful, and filled with quiet dignity. Their warmth and compassion in that difficult moment remain among the kindest gestures I have ever experienced.
It was then that I began to understand the true depth of Thai culture — how respect and empathy are expressed not in words, but in gentle actions. In their way, they gave my mother — and me — a final gift of peace.
26 December 2004 – The Day the Tsunami Changed Our Lives
On the evening of December 25th, 2004, aboard Viking of the Orient, I told our guests that we would make only one early dive the next morning — not the usual two. The dive site was Shark Fin Reef, a dramatic underwater ridge marked by a sharp surface rock close to the mooring. The change of plan seemed simple, but it turned out to be one of the most important decisions of my life.
At about 7:30 a.m. on Boxing Day, I stood at the dive platform giving the signal for our divers to enter the water. By just before 9:00, all were safely back on board, and we began our journey toward Phuket.
Half an hour later, as guests and crew gathered in the salon to watch the week’s video, the tsunami struck the Similan Islands. The massive wave, traveling beneath us at nearly 800 kilometers per hour, passed unnoticed — the sea perfectly calm, the sky clear and blue.
Then came the call. My satellite phone rang — something that never happened on the last day at sea.
Our office in Patong reported chaos: “Water everywhere — another wave may be coming!”
I immediately assembled everyone on deck and ordered all guests and crew — nearly fifty people — to put on their red safety vests.
It was an unforgettable sight: calm seas, bright sun, and fifty people walking around in silence - wearing their safety vests - unaware of how close we had come to tragedy.
That same morning, I offered my satellite phone to guests so they could call their families. Many later said it was the most emotional moment of their lives, to hear their loved ones’ voices and say, “We’re safe.”
A few days later, Viking — the only private vessel involved — was designated the official command center in a large-scale search and evaluation operation, working side by side with the Royal Thai Navy and other government agencies. For more than a week, our decks were filled with divers, officers, and officials preparing to face unthinkable loss.
It was one of the most intense weeks of my life. Even though our business did not survive, being able to stand with Thailand in its darkest hour remains one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.
PART TWO:
My Thai Family
From 2002:
My Thai wife Nit and my stepsons, 'Koh' and 'Cop' -
They arrived when Koh was 9 years old, and Cop was 4 years old.
Nit and I were married in 2008.
From 2006:
Our adopted son, 'Peter' (Ittipat Meling) - He arrived when he was only eleven months old
From 2010:
Our fosterson, 'Ef' - He arrived when he was eleven years old
My Family Takes Shape - First At Phuket Island
Two years before the tsunami - in 2002 - life took a new direction when Ann and her two young sons, Koh (9) and Cop (4), moved into my home in Phuket some time after the tragic loss of their father in an accident. From that moment, we were no longer just friends — we became a family.
After living together as a family for several years, Ann and I formally married in 2008, a natural step that simply confirmed the life we had already built together.
Little Cop was a lively and charming boy, always playful and full of laughter. In the evenings, he would often fall asleep beside me on the sofa while I watched TV, and I would carry him to bed every night — small moments that quietly built a bond of trust and affection.
Koh, though still very young, quickly became a dependable companion. He helped me understand the Thai language and customs that were still new to me, and from those early days, our friendship grew into a lasting bond. Today, at 32, Koh and his wife, Cat, remain among my dearest friends, always ready to lend a hand whenever needed.
I am deeply proud of both Koh and Cop for the kind and thoughtful people they have become.
Those years at Phuket were filled with everyday joys — schooldays, shared meals, and laughter — and the quiet strength that comes from caring for one another.
After the Tsunami – A New Beginning in the North
The tsunami changed everything, not only for Thailand, but also for my own life.
Almost overnight, tourism in Phuket disappeared. Guests stopped coming, boats stood still, and the lively island I had known for so many years became quiet in a way I had never experienced before.
With no students to teach, I closed my dive centre, bringing to an end ten unforgettable years of teaching scuba diving to guests from all over the world. Soon after, my proud diving yacht, Viking of the Orient, was sold. It had been a dream project and a great chapter of my life, but now that chapter had naturally come to an end. There was, quite simply, nothing left that tied me to Phuket.
Many friends encouraged me to return to Norway and start again there. But in my heart, I knew that was never an option. I could not abandon Ann and her two sons, Koh and Cop, who had become my dear stepsons and an inseparable part of my life. My future was with my family in Thailand.
We decided instead to move north and begin a new life together. We settled in Chiang Mai Province, near Doi Saket, about 30 kilometres from Chiang Mai city. There, we found a quiet and peaceful rural area surrounded by nature—an ideal place for family life, reflection, and healing after the intense years in Phuket.
Looking back today, that move was not an escape, but a choice. A choice to slow down, to focus on family, and to continue my life in Thailand in a different, calmer, and deeply meaningful way.
Working as a Volunteer in Humanitarian Projects
Not long after we had settled in Chiang Mai Province, I was introduced at the local church to Pastor Suchart. Through him, I came to know both the church community and the quiet but meaningful work they were doing to support children from the hill tribes further north.
Many of these children had come to the Doi Saket area in order to attend school. Their living conditions were very basic, and they were in need of almost everything — food, clothing, school supplies, and encouragement. When I learned about their situation, I offered to help as best I could, by giving my time and, in a modest way, also some financial support.
With the pastor’s help, my work permit was changed to allow me to serve as an unpaid volunteer. That was how my years of voluntary work began — quietly and without any grand plan, simply from a wish to be useful.
Together with Koh, friends from the church, and many kind-hearted Thai volunteers, we organised simple activities for the children. These included teaching basic English, preparing traditional Saturday lunches, and arranging small outings. We were able to provide food, school equipment, uniforms, and small treats — simple things, but important in the children’s everyday lives.
These years of volunteering continued until 2012, when I officially became a retiree and began receiving my pension from the Norwegian state. During those post-tsunami years, living in the peaceful countryside north of Chiang Mai, Ann and I were also able to give our full attention to caring for our children as they grew up.
The volunteer work became meaningful not only for the hill tribe children but for our own family as well. My children were able to join me in many of these projects, learning first-hand about kindness, responsibility, and life beyond their own everyday world.
The photos below show how we prepared our simple Saturday lunches together with the hill tribe children, as well as moments when I taught them English. The short video that follows captures something especially close to my heart — the occasions when I was able to help bring running water into their very basic homes.
Looking back, these years were filled with simplicity, shared effort, and quiet joy. The children’s curiosity, their laughter, and the trust that grew between us became a lasting source of happiness — and, without my realising it at the time, they also helped me slowly regain strength, balance, and hope after the difficult years that followed the tsunami.
A 'Must-Watch' (3 minutes)
This short video shows a simple but deeply meaningful moment: bringing running water to the very basic homes of hill tribe children.
What began as a small practical project became a powerful lesson in dignity, cooperation, and gratitude — for them, and for us.
We Welcome a New Member of Our Family - A Baby Boy
One day, not long after we had arrived in Doi Saket, the father of the baby boy Ann had cared for in Phuket came to see us. He brought the child with him — the same little boy I had once held in my arms when he was only three months old.
The baby’s parents, now divorced and unable to care for him, had written and signed a simple document giving Ann and me full responsibility for his care and upbringing. There were no speeches, no formalities — just a quiet, life-changing moment.
When the baby was placed in our arms, something entirely new began. A bond of love was formed — not by birth, but by heart.
What moved me deeply was the way Koh and Cop welcomed him. They accepted him instantly, with curiosity, gentleness, and a natural sense of responsibility. Watching the two boys embrace him as their younger brother was both touching and reassuring. From that very first day, he belonged.
It felt as though life itself was offering us a sign — that from everything we had lost after the tsunami, something deeply good had begun to grow. From the moment I held him again, I felt a powerful sense of purpose return.
From an official list of Thai boys’ names, I chose the name Ittipat, a name full of promise and meaning. At the same time, we gave him the nickname Peter, a name that would gently accompany him as he grew up between cultures.
Caring for Peter, and watching him grow day by day, became the most meaningful and emotionally fulfilling experience of my life — a quiet gift that reshaped my future, and anchored our family in love.
Home in Time for Peter’s Second Birthday
If you only have time to watch one video on this website, let it be this one —
with my favourite Thai song: “Nung Natee” (One Minute).
This short video captures a deeply personal moment: my return from Norway after a brief one-week trip, just in time to celebrate Peter’s second birthday.
The first scene, though surprising to foreign viewers, shows a very typical Thai moment — me sitting in the back of an open pickup truck with Peter, Cop, Ann, and close family friends at Chiang Mai Airport. What mattered most was simply being home again for this special day.
The emotional tone of the video is carried by “Nung Natee,” a song about the preciousness of time and the small moments we share.
You’ll also see scenes from the beautiful Loi Krathong festival — flowers, lanterns, and fireworks — as Peter rides on my shoulders and Cop and Ann join the celebrations.
The next day, we sent a traditional sky lantern into the night sky to wish Peter good luck for the year ahead.
The video was filmed in November 2007 — not 2006, as the camera’s time stamp mistakenly shows.
As it turned out, that short trip to Norway was the last time I left Thailand, except for a brief two-day visit to Laos in 2013.
Since then, Thailand has truly become my only home.
At the Foothills of the Himalayas: Our Home Since 2010
In 2010, Ann and I, together with our three children — Koh, Cop, and Peter — moved into our home in the countryside near Doi Saket, about 30 kilometres north of Chiang Mai city. From the very first day, we felt that this was the right place for our family.
The house stands in a remarkably beautiful setting, surrounded by a large garden that feels more like a private park than a garden. Tall trees, open lawns, and small pathways create a sense of space, shade, and quiet. Over the years, this natural environment has become an important part of our daily life and well-being.
This is where our children grew up — from small boys to young men — in safe and peaceful surroundings. It is where family life unfolded naturally, with time for school, meals together, conversation, and simple routines that give strength and stability.
Our home lies at the foothills of the Himalayas, in an area known for clean air and gentle rhythms. Each morning and evening, I walk with our dogs along quiet paths and small roads, accompanied by birdsong and the changing light of the day. Nearby nature, open skies, and the calm of the surroundings have shaped our way of life here.
Over the years, this place has given us peace, balance, and a deep sense of belonging.
It is truly our home.
Our Family Still Had Room for One More – ‘Ef’ Arrives, Eleven Years Old
Soon after we had moved into our present home, one of Cop’s classmates — a quiet boy named Ef — came into our lives in a way none of us had expected.
Ef arrived as a very small and thin eleven-year-old, noticeably younger in size than Cop, but with a calm and gentle presence. His school contacted us to ask whether we might be able to give him a home. His father was in prison for drug-related offences, and his mother was no longer part of his life. Ef was, quite simply, without family, stability, or support.
Ef had already visited our home several times as Cop’s friend, and he felt familiar to us. When the school reached out, I said that the decision should be Cop’s. Without hesitation, Cop answered yes — and from that moment, Ef became part of our family.
From the very first days, Ef felt at home here. He settled in quietly, grew stronger, and soon began to flourish. He was kind, respectful, and deeply appreciative — and he quickly became a much-loved and valued member of our family.
Ef has lived with us ever since. Today, he still stays here, now together with his girlfriend, and remains very much part of our daily life. Looking back, welcoming Ef into our home felt natural — not an act of generosity, but simply the right thing to do.
A New Beginning for Peter: Changing to Varee Chiangmai School
When Peter was six years old, I began to worry about his future.
He had spent two happy years at the local kindergarten and one year at the small village school near our home. But when I met Cop’s old classmates — teenagers from that same school — I realized that none of them could speak or even understand a single English sentence.
That discovery worried me deeply.
Peter already spoke good English for his age, and I feared that if he stayed there, he would lose what he had learned. I wanted him to keep developing and to one day have the confidence to explore the wider world.
So, as soon as the school year ended in March, I took him to Chiang Mai city to look for a new school. We visited one that didn’t feel right, and then — almost by chance — arrived at Varee Chiangmai School. From the moment we walked through the gate, we were welcomed with warmth and kindness.
A teacher explained that the school’s annual English Camp had just begun — a one-month program to help children learn through fun and daily practice. Without hesitation, I signed Peter up.
The next morning, Peter began his first day at Varee.
Looking back, the decision to move Peter to Varee was one of the most important I have ever made.
It opened doors for him that would later lead to United World College in Africa, and eventually to St. Olaf College in the United States.
Koh’s Ordination as a Buddhist Monk
A Moment of Pride, Gratitude, and Deep Thai Tradition
In March 2014, shortly after Koh celebrated his 21st birthday, our family experienced one of the most meaningful moments of our lives: His formal ordination as a Buddhist monk.
This was not a temporary novice ordination for children.
It was the full, traditional ceremony for a young man entering monkhood with maturity, intention, and respect — a rite that carries immense significance in Thai culture. For a parent, witnessing this is one of life’s greatest honours.
The days leading up to the ordination were filled with warmth, preparation, and quiet anticipation. I will never forget seeing Koh in his beautiful white-and-gold ceremonial attire: dignified, humble, and radiating calm. In the temple, under the chanting of the monks, I sat right beside him during the central rituals. My role was important, and I felt deeply moved to be part of such a sacred moment.
The entire family gathered, proud and grateful.
It was a time of reflection, of tradition, and of unity — a moment where Thai culture’s beauty shone brightly. For Koh, it marked a transition into adulthood with grace. For me, it was a memory I will carry forever.
A Thai Court’s Wonderful Decision - My adoption of Peter was approved
The day the court approved my adoption of Peter was one of the happiest moments of my life.
He was bright-eyed, curious, and full of energy when we stood together in the quiet, sunlit courtroom. The process had taken years, but every signature, every form, and every visit had been worth it.
Before the final court hearing in 2014, I had during several years undergone the complete adoption-approval procedure required for a foreign applicant: background and financial investigations, interviews, and home visits. I was summoned to the Royal Thai Police headquarters in Bangkok, where my fingerprints and records were formally processed, and social inspectors visited our home in Chiang Mai several times to evaluate our family environment. Their reports were positive and supportive throughout.
At the same time, I also obtained a police clearance from Norway, confirming a clean record.
When the judge finally announced the decision, there was no applause, only a deep, peaceful silence — the kind that comes when something truly right has been done.
With or without that decision, we were already a family, as we had been ever since Peter came into our lives. But it felt deeply good to have it formally confirmed.
A few weeks later, Peter proudly received his new Thai ID card with his new family name: Ittipat Meling.
I can still picture him standing against the wall to measure his height for the photo, stretching a little taller, full of pride and happiness.
Looking back, I often think about how easily it might never have happened.
It was thanks to the kind support and encouragement of Tom Trommestad at the Royal Norwegian Embassy in Bangkok that I took the first steps toward the adoption of Peter.
Without his understanding and kind guidance at that early stage, this dream might never have become a reality.
Peter Makes an Online Presentation at Thailand’s National Astronomy Conference
At just sixteen, in 2021, Peter was invited to present in English his research on exoplanets at the 7th Thai Astronomical Conference, hosted by NARIT — the National Astronomical Research Institute of Thailand.
His project, titled “The Study of Exoplanet WASP-43b Period by Using the Transit Method,” was presented online from Varee Chiangmai School in English, and it marked a proud milestone for our family.
Soon after this presentation, Peter was invited to share his research again — this time to an international audience — and received a Certificate of Acknowledgement from NARIT in recognition of his work.
I believe that his dedication to astronomy, combined with the encouragement he received at Varee Chiangmai School, helped nurture the curiosity and confidence that later led to his nomination for a United World Colleges scholarship.
That school gave our son not only knowledge — but a place to dream, explore, and grow.
United World Colleges - A New Chapter Begins:
Peter's Two Years at Waterford Kamhlaba UWC in Eswatini in Southern Africa
In 2022, Peter received one of the greatest honours of his young life.
He was selected as one of only ten students from all of Thailand to be awarded a scholarship through the United World Colleges (UWC) program — a global network of schools dedicated to building understanding between nations and cultures.
Each of the ten Thai students was nominated to represent Thailand at one of the eighteen UWC schools around the world, to serve as young ambassadors of their country's values, kindness, and global outlook. Peter was chosen for Waterford Kamhlaba UWC in Eswatini, Southern Africa — a school with a proud history of diversity and inclusion.
At Waterford Kamhlaba, Peter completed the final two years of his high-school education, living and studying alongside students from more than eighty countries. The experience challenged and inspired him, deepening his awareness of the world and his belief in compassion across cultures.
The photos from the 2022 scholarship ceremony and his later graduation reflect not only Peter’s achievement, but also the values that UWC stands for — courage, curiosity, and service to others.
At St. Olaf College in the United States
After completing his studies at Waterford Kamhlaba UWC in Eswatini, Southern Africa, Peter applied for admission to St. Olaf College in Minnesota, USA.
He was not only accepted but also awarded by St. Olaf College a full four-year scholarship toward his bachelor’s degree, where he is now pursuing three majors — Quantitative Economics, Computer Science, and Chinese.
In October 2025, Peter was one of ten St. Olaf students invited to take part in the official reception for Norway’s Crown Prince Haakon at the Minneapolis Institute of Art — a moment of quiet pride linking our two worlds in a way I could never have imagined.
To me, Peter’s path stands as proof that when a child is given love, care, and opportunity, remarkable things can happen.
As I follow his journey from afar, I am reminded that life’s most meaningful rewards are often not our own achievements, but those of the next generation.
2026 - Looking back: The Joy of Watching Our Children Grow Up
Watching our children grow into kind and responsible adults has been one of life’s greatest joys.
Each of these moments — school days, celebrations, and milestones — reflects not only their achievements, but the warmth and togetherness that have shaped our family through the years.
Over time, I have come to admire many qualities that seem deeply woven into Thai culture — qualities that I have seen every day in our four boys: Koh, Cop, Peter, and Ef.
In all the years of caring for them, I have never heard raised voices, arguments, or complaints. They never speak ill of one another. When they leave the house or come home, they do so politely, always with a smile. They never demand things or ask for money. If there is something they would like, they mention it quietly — and trust that I will understand.
They dress simply, always clean and tidy, never chasing expensive fashion or brands. They are helpful, patient, and endlessly considerate toward Ann and me.
It is these gentle habits — the calmness, the humility, the respect — that I believe show the true heart of Thai upbringing.
And perhaps one of the most endearing traits of all is a phrase I hear every day:
When I ask what they want to eat, what movie to watch, or where they’d like to go, the answer is always the same —
“Up to you.”
That simple phrase captures something very special: an ease, a kindness, and a quiet harmony that I have come to love deeply in Thai life.
To have seen these qualities take root in our family has been a joy beyond words — and a reminder that the truest success in life is not measured in wealth or titles, but in the goodness and gratitude we pass on to the next generation.
When the Children Moved Out… the Dogs Moved In
When our boys grew up and began their own lives, the house suddenly felt quiet.
But life has a way of filling empty spaces in unexpected — and joyful — ways.
One morning, Cop arrived with a young Siberian Husky in his arms.
The puppy’s owners in Chiang Mai hadn't been able to care for him in their small apartment,
so he came to stay with us instead.
We named him Cato.
Not long after, Ann came home with a beautiful Chocolate Labrador she had found wandering in our village — hungry, tired, and without a home.
She became Lexi, our gentle and loyal companion.
Cato and Lexi soon became inseparable…
And before long, they proudly presented us with eleven puppies.
We kept two sweet girls — Baby and Minni — and found loving homes with neighbors for the rest.
Our home, once filled with children’s laughter, now echoes with happy paws, wagging tails, and the joyful chaos of morning walks.
Some say life comes full circle.
In our case, it returned with four legs and wagging tails.
A Quiet and Peaceful Retirement – Life Is Very Good!
After years of supporting our four boys, Ann and I have now settled into a peaceful rhythm.
I sleep well through the night, wake early, and walk with my dogs through the quiet lanes and fields around our home.
I often stop to watch the sunrise over the hills.
These walks remind me how fortunate I am simply to still be here.
Thanks to good physical health and an active, simple lifestyle, I have never needed any medicine beyond what nature itself provides.
And in the everyday simplicity of this life — morning walks, nature, family, and loyal dogs — I have found a quiet sense of contentment that to me now is more valuable than any comfort or wealth.
I hope this website may, in some quiet way, let old friends know that I am well — and help them understand why my life eventually found its home here in Thailand.
In the stillness of nature, I have found what matters most to me: belonging, gratitude, and the gentle rhythm of ordinary days.
Ann and I often think of our children and hope they will continue to find happiness and stability in their own lives.
My wish is simple — to be allowed to stay in this wonderful country for the rest of my life, where I have lived for more than thirty years, and where I have finally found peace.
And — with a smile — I also hope that my faithful old Honda will survive a few more years, to keep carrying me and my four wonderful dogs to the starting point of our daily walks!
Finally - A Message from My Heart
To the people of Thailand — with all my heart, I thank you.
Thirty-two years ago, I arrived in your beautiful country as a visitor. I had no idea that this land would become my home — not only in name, but in spirit. From the very beginning, I was met with kindness, generosity, and understanding.
Through years of joy and hardship, Thailand has given me more than I could ever return: a family, a sense of belonging, and the chance to rebuild my life after great loss. The compassion of ordinary people — neighbors, officials, colleagues, teachers, and friends — has shown me the true strength of this nation.
This website is my way of saying thank you — but also a message of hope for anyone facing difficult times.
It is a reminder that life can begin again, even after everything seems lost, and that peace can be found in the kindness of others and the healing power of nature.
Thank you, Thailand, for embracing me as one of your own — and for allowing me to call this country my home..
With gratitude,
Einar Meling,
Chiang Mai Province, 2026
