The Day the Ground Moved

On March 28th, 2025, at 1:20 PM, a strong earthquake hit Bangkok. I was in a meeting room, lost in thought, planning what to present in the next session. Suddenly, I felt dizzy — like vertigo had returned. Then I saw the table moving. Up and down. For a second, I questioned my senses.

“It’s an earthquake,” one of my colleagues said calmly.

I dove under the table, hoping it would end soon. There were no chandeliers or hanging objects — maybe it was safe enough. Three long minutes passed before the building’s alarm blared and someone yelled, “Run!”

It was my first time in a situation like this. Somehow, I had the presence of mind to grab my phone and MacBook before dashing down the fire escape from the 8th floor. On the way down, I kept hearing “Run!” echo through the stairwell until I finally reached the assembly point outside.

My mom called. The earthquake had originated in Myanmar and shook many areas in Thailand. It was massive. Most of my colleagues were planning to head home. But how?

All the trains — subways and skytrains — were shut down. The internet was spotty. Mobile signals dropped in and out. A few of us moved to a nearby park, waiting for aftershocks. Nothing happened. We decided to leave.

I tried booking a ride on Grab (like Uber), but payment wouldn’t go through. I waited for the bus. After 30 minutes, still no sign of it. Frustrated, I was about to give up.

Then came the urge to move.

The sidewalk was packed with people. The roads were jammed. Not a single available taxi in sight. Some people started walking out of buildings — maybe to find a better spot to call a driver. My colleagues had rides. I was alone now.

I checked Google Maps: 13 kilometers to home. Ironically, that’s the same distance I ran weekly. But today, it was over 32°C. Not ideal for a casual walk.

Still, I began. Just to the next three stations, I told myself — 3 kilometers was a small goal.

After reaching that distance, the traffic still hadn’t moved. But I had. I felt like I was winning.

At the 5-kilometer mark, my left foot started hurting. I hadn’t realized my shoes weren’t made for long walks. I tried not to step on that foot too hard. Slowed down, but kept going.

People were still talking about where they were when it happened. And somehow, I forgot that I was walking because of the earthquake. My mind drifted away to something like “When will be the next meeting? I want to do the exam now (I got the take-home exam for my master's degree), and the soft serve (my favorite dessert).

A few kilometers later, my foot stopped hurting. No explanation. I just kept walking.

Eventually, I passed a large mall. It was closed, but some food stalls were still open. Tourists were eating like nothing had happened. I craved for sugar cane juice, but I couldn’t find it. I got a honey lemon drink. It felt like discovering an oasis in a desert.

With 3 kilometers left, my legs were stiff. Standing made them shake, so I kept walking. It was better to keep moving.

I looked for cracks in buildings but didn’t see much damage. I heard someone had died from a collapsed construction site. That hit hard. It was terrifying to see clips later, but even more haunting to hear and not know.

Now, I was just one kilometer from home. The streets were familiar, but the traffic was still frozen. Compared to some colleagues who lived in the countryside, my 13-kilometer journey was nothing. For them, it would’ve been a marathon. If I were them, I would imagine changing into running shoes and reaching home by 9 PM.

Arrived.

I was a bit thirsty the whole way. My mom looked surprised when she found out I had walked all the way home without stopping. But honestly, it wasn’t that bad. It was just one day for me.

I kept thinking — I could reach this point, unless something unexpected happened. A second earthquake. A collapse. Who knows. But I didn’t focus on those what-ifs. I focused on what I could do in the moment. And walking was the best choice I had.

The thought of getting home safely kept me moving — but even that was never guaranteed. Life is uncertain. We can prepare, but we can never fully control.

If I had believed I couldn't walk that far, I might have waited until midnight when traffic cleared. Or maybe I’d have found a hotel nearby. And honestly? That wouldn't have been so bad either. Just another path. Another version of the same story.