Back In Thailand

Well, I'm back in Thailand but I have moved positions.  Previously, I was working and living at a children's home called Bamboo School.  Now I am living about fifteen minutes down the road with some local Karen.  Even though I have moved places some of my work is still similar.  I am still teaching English classes, but to a new set of students.  I teach five evenings a week.  The first day of class was quite a surprise.  Word had evidently spread that there was a new, white English teacher in the area and I think everyone who could, came.  It was a full house of new students bent over their notebooks, excitingly but shyly copying the ABC's down and learning new words.  Boy, they were everywhere I tell ya.  Spread out over the concrete floor, sitting on the few plastic chairs, and standing around.  Mothers came, grandfathers came, children came...  It was such fun and learning all of their names in one night, impossible!  I am very excited to see so many eager students, but it makes me more aware of my lack of training and ability to teach well.  But, every time I look at their eager faces I just have to give it my best shot for them.

Another experience I have had recently was attending the local Baptist Church here. They asked me to teach an English verse to one of the Sunday School classes.  I went and taught my verse, which was the only thing said in English, and three hours later class was finally finished. Man, I had no idea a Sunday School class could be so long and boring. : )  I really did try, but couldn't follow along very well.  Then, it was time for the actual service to begin which I sat through and understood maybe a total of 3 words. : )  The woman who arranged/invited me to come to stay in this village brought me in front of the congregation, and said a whole lot of something that I couldn't understand as it was in Karen, and then asked me to say something.  I had no idea what to say.  So I just told them, "Thank you for welcoming me to your home. I am very young and sometimes do not know what I am doing.  But I came because I believe God told me to come here anyways.  I will do my best to teach English and help you, but sometimes you might have to help me too."  They  seemed to like that... or something I said at least, because they all laughed, so I considered my little speech successful.  Sweet oblivion?

There is a little shop just beside my new home. Its matron is a funny, fat 

Karen woman who loves cats.  You can find her poking out her window making cat noises, and leaving little plates of scrap food around to feed her precious animals.  Sometimes, she walks around with a little kitten perched on her shoulders.  Another thing you will find her doing is making sure everyone is well fed.  She is very proud of her fat stomach and seems to think everyone would like to have one just as nice as hers, as she rubs her tummy and smiles, proudly showing me her well earned bulge as she offers me even more food.

 I was told when I arrived that a girl named Susanna will come to live with me.  This girl turned out to be 42 year old, Karen woman from near Rangoon.  Don't you just love cross-cultural/language communication?  My new friend is always chewing beetle nut and drinking hot "Myanmar Tea".  She is a teacher and a paster at the church here.  She has gone to Bible school in Burma, and is very thoughtful.  She loves to make condescending faces as she speaks to emphasis her points.  I am very thankful for my new companion whom I can have thoughtful, intellectual conversations with, although we don't always understand each other.  When she wants me to go with her she asks, "Will you follow me?" Instead of, "Do you want to go with me?"  Or she says, "Can you carry for me? What will you carry?" which means, "Can you help me?" So, its taking some time. Or, "How many spelling?" equals "How do you spell that word?"

Fun times! Really, the only truly frustrating thing so far has been not being able to leave the house where I am staying. The individuals who invited me to come teach here are very worried and concerned about my safety.  Since I have previously lived in the area, I have met many people and I know lay of the land well.  I am not concerned and want to go visit my old friends. They think I will practically get kidnapped if I step out the door.  They are very distrustful of the local Thais and police.  Rightly so for minority Karen at times, but not for a white foreigner.  I am trying to be very respectful and considerate of their concerns, but I have a strong, fearless  independent streak in me that rebels against such oppression.  : )

I think that's all I got for now. I will try to get some new pictures up for you all. I don't have regular internet access right now so that puts real damper on things.  Take care!

Goats and Trucks

Goats!

The "Old Green Truck"

      Back to the goat, it really couldn't avoid being hit.  Luckily, I was not driving too fast when it ran into the road.  The poor thing had been tied to a tree and tempted by the greener grass on the other side of the road all day.  It was finally making a break for it when I happened to drive by.  It had no idea that it was going to be hit by an old green truck.  I squinted my eyes tightly, slammed on my breaks, and took a deep breath of anguish as I saw what was coming but couldn’t avoid it.  It made a great good sound as it ran into the truck but amazingly, it drunkenly kept staggering on into the jungle bush before laying down.  The owner ran out of his little house as I pulled over to the side of the road and picked up his now hurt and shaken goat.  I had no idea what to do.  What do you do in Thailand when you drive into a goat?  I was alone, I had never hit a goat before, and I had no one to translate for me or help me navigate this new experience.  The goat ran off again.  I’m surprised he didn’t give up running after such a traumatic experience, but then again, some of us never learn.  The owner looked a little confused and said some things in Thai. I don’t think he knew what to do either.  Its not every day that a little white girl comes out of nowhere and hits your goat with a truck.  Anyways, a young man was standing by and watched the whole thing.  Great, witnesses.  I just shrugged, lifted my hands in a "I don't know" kind of gesture towards the owner and the witness and got back in the truck.  As I drove off the young witness was laughing at me from my rear view mirror.  Then this morning, when I went to the local market my laughing witness spotted me, shrugged, and lifted his hands in a "I don't know" kind of gesture.  It all seemed pretty worth it then, getting to connect with a stranger over a goat and an old green truck.

What It Really Means To Serve

I know I promised to write something about goats and green trucks last time I posted but it will just have to wait until next time.  I would like to share with you some other things

     Being in Thailand is hard sometimes.  No, I am not referring to the 80-90 degree weather in the middle of January and the bright sunny skies.  I am talking about being away from family and friends.  I can take the cold baths and washing my clothes by hand.  I can eat rice and vegetables three times a day.  I can handle getting covered in poo when diarrhea overcomes the little girl I am holding.  No problem!  What’s difficult is not getting to sit down at the kitchen table and have a good ol’chat with my mom.  Its difficult not getting to visit my brother as he roasts coffee at Dunn Brothers and do crossword puzzles with him.  I miss eating Sunday dinner with my family and friends.  I miss working in the garage with my dad in the freezing cold of December.  Its difficult. I miss getting to watch my little nephew grow up and learn to say things like my name.  I don’t get to go out for coffee with my besty friends or stay up late talking with them.

     So its difficult sometimes and I miss a lot of things.  So why am I here in Thailand serving at Bamboo School?  I don’t have to be here.  I could be home.  I could be building a career or something like that.  But God didn’t call me to take the easy road. (Luke 14:25-33) Being a Christian means doing the hard things and taking the bumpy roads for the sake of sharing the gospel (2 Corinthians 6:4-10 and Matthew 28:18-20)).  It means being true to what one believes and the salvation that we have received through Christ.  No hypocrisy or halfhearted living.  We have a race to run!  (1 Corinthians 9:26-27)

I recently traveled to Vientiane, Laos to get a new visa and then spent some time in Bangkok.  I noticed a lot of young travelers out on a gap year after high school or traveling around the world after finishing university.  All of them were very excited to be out and about, seeing new things and going exotic places, but they were all traveling with friends, staying in guesthouses, eating at restaurants and visiting touristy places.  It hit me that they were all excited to be in Laos or Thailand but were not actually connecting with these places.  They just hopped from one business that serves foreigners to another.  They weren’t doing anything for the places or the people they visited except provide a little income.

     It would be easy to live one’s life without caring about the rest of the world, or anyone else or those that are less fortunate than us.  That’s the easy road, not caring or doing anything about the things that bother us.  As a young, 23 year old, most of my peers are out there doing nothing with their lives.  A few of them are pursuing careers or are starting to build their own families but most of them are out there “living it up”.  Going out and being free by drinking their guts out and doing the partying scene.  They think that they are being rebellious against society and anarchist by getting wasted.  “Take that world! I am free enough to give control of of myself over to whatever I want! You’ll never own me!” This is the lie they believe and fall for.

     It would be pretty easy to forget the cries of hurting people not hear them with loud, mixed, techno music thumping in your ear dancing on on a dark floor - unless you happened to come face to face with those hurting people.  

      I went out with some new Thai friends for dinner in Bangkok.  They took me to a club after wards.  As I was sitting there, I kept trying to decide why in the world was I there.  There was no appeal in this place to me at all.  Everyone around me was laughing, drinking, and dancing together.  Singing out loudly together to the music.  It seemed like a very merry time, but all I could remember or think about were the kids I left behind at Bamboo School.  For this?  I remembered their voices singing in worship together in the early morning hours.  I thought about all of their stories.  For example, the little seven year old boy who walked across the Burmese border after his parents had been killed the Burmese military.  He had had nowhere to go.  That's how he end at Bamboo School.  I thought of little Dokmai whose mother left her abandoned at the hospital or the pregnant mother whose husband left her for another.  She had no money to take care of her son and the baby that was on its way and no home.

    So that's where the danger lies.  It lies in connecting with people and children face to face, living where they live and living how they live because it forces us to make a choice between taking the easy road or actually doing something.  Dangerous!  Satan has done a pretty good job of distracting my peers by filling them up with myths that drinking and partying means that they are free. That traveling places means that they are doing something with their lives.  If half my peers that are traveling around the world actually took time to do something for the people that they pay to visit and/or fill up their glasses than this world would already be a lot different.  Hopefully, it would be for God's glory. 

A Sight To See

This morning I went to the local Thai market with a new volunteer.  It was one of those mornings.  To begin with, I had a seven year old boy with cerebral palsy, who is also deaf and blind, on my back piggy back style.  He is very small so not heavy but he cannot hold on too well given the cerebral palsy.  He also likes to decide to hit himself in the head when irritated as a way to communicate and if that doesn't work then he likes to bite his hand or pinch himself.  The two of us made made quite a site.  Little ol' blonde me walking through the market with a little brown boy who keeps hitting and biting himself precariously perched on back. 

Next, add the new volunteer who is taking care of two year old Bekah.  The volunteer arrived about a week ago.  On Monday I learned that she had never changed a diaper before.  I also learned that she planned to be working at Bamboo School (a home for children) for the next year.  I immediately thought she was crazy.  Who commits to working at a children's home without ever having changed a diaper before?  Apparently, she does.  So its been a learning experience for her so far, and for me who has become her guide to all things children, Bamboo School, and Thailand.  As you can imagine, she was a bit lost and overwhelmed as to what to do at an open air market.  It wasn't Walmart.  That's for sure.  There were live eels in buckets, whole dead frogs for the taking, fish paste and chili, machetes for chopping bamboo, sarongs for bathing in a river, and rice to eat.

So the two whities (me and the new volunteer) and the two little ones tried to make our way through the crowded market, while carrying all our new goodies, and then look for even more good stuff like clothes hangers, food storage bins, and mirrors.  Absolute necessities! Plus, limes and peanuts are a must for adding a little flavor and protein.   I was trying to complete a transaction for said clothes hangers etc... with a local vendor (with the little boy on my back and bags slinging from my arm) when I notice everyone looking at us.  This was not new.  I get a lot of looks when I am about, but I noticed something was different.  I looked around, and down, and then realized that not only had little Bekah peed her pants, but had also proceeded to pooh in front of everyone in the market.  She left a nice little something on the ground and on her pants, on her shoes, and on her feet.  The new volunteer was appalled.  I thought it was funny and  inconvenient given the circumstances. 

Bless the new volunteer though as she had toilet paper in her bag.  It came in handy for cleaning up the little girl who poohed in the middle of the market and for picking up the finished (ah hum) byproduct.  So, that was the icing on the cake and the sight to see at the market today.  The two whities, the little boy who hits himself, and the little girl who poohs in the market. 

Coming soon is a brief dissertation on the highly attractive qualities that exist between Thai goats and old green trucks.

Life In Thailand So Far

So... what can I tell you about being in Thailand and at Bamboo School so far?  One of my most favorite moments so far is of a little boy appropriately named Moremorechore, who proudly holding up his finger with a big, gross booger on it yelled, "Teacher! Look!".  I promptly made him go wash his hands.  His proud fat booger reassuring me that yes, this is really where I should be.  On my first day back at Bamboo School, Moremorechore also started a fire, on purpose, in the bushes right next to a bamboo dorm.  The smoke from the fire gave him away, as well as, the lighter in his hand.  I gave him a good spank on the rear and made him carry the water to put it out the fire.  He really wasn't that sorry for it, seeing as he was grinning from ear to ear in-spite of the spanking and water carrying.  I do think he likes to just make more and more chores for us volunteers. 

I have also been doing a lot of grunt work clearing out overgrowth in order to develop a new garden.  It is very difficult to hoe and turn over the ground here because the soil is very very rocky.  I can only carry a half bucket of dirt because it is so dense and heavy.  I have also been cutting back a lot of grass with machetes.  I like to imagine myself bravely hacking through the jungle looking for missing Bamboo School children as I hack away.  Chances are, it will happen too.  Its quite prickly work though.  There are great big thorny plants that grow amongst the grass so you have to wear thick clothing from top to bottom in order to avoid getting stickers and thorns stuck everywhere.  In between the fingers is the worst! 

Another lovely memory is swimming at the lake with the little girls.  The lake is nestled amongst the jungly mountains and towards 4:30 or 5:00 pm the sun begins to tuck in behind the mountains and there is a very hazy, sun setting glow mixed with the sounds of little girls playing in the water.  It is a very calming and beautiful time. Although,  I have to suppress the fear of snakes every time I go swimming.  I can just picture a snake making itself cozy with my ankles under the water.

I also get to make new friends with the other volunteers here.  Ryan and Jesse, a young married couple around their 30's,  introduced me to Tim Tam Slams.  Tim Tams are a type of chocolate cookie from New Zealand and Australia.   So a Tim Tam slam is biting the ends off the rectangular cookie and sucking hot chocolate through the cookie until the chocolate in the cookie melts and you have to slam the melting cookie into your mouth so you don't lose it into your hot chocolate.  Very yummy and messy!

Well, thats all for know.  There is so much more that I can write about but it will have to wait until another day.

My First Pad Thai

My first encounter with Pad Thai was not in a restaurant nor was it served familiarly on a plate.  It came suspiciously wrapped in paper...

It might not seem like a big deal to eat Pad Thai or Pad Thai that is wrapped in paper but it was very meaningful to me.  First,  I was in Thailand.  That means it was actually really good Pad Thai.  Secondly, I was tired, frustrated, alone and hungry.  It had been a really long day.  I had woken up at 5:30 am to get the kids up in time so they could get ready for school, eat breakfast, and do their morning jobs before classes started.  It then took two trips to get all the kids to school.  Then, I made sure the children too young for school were fed, bathed, played with and loved.  Plus, plan the daily English lesson and take the two trips back to pick up the kids. 

So, come 10:30 pm that night, sitting in a cold, not white anymore Thai hospital ward was a little bit disconcerting.  I would have been much happier under my mosquito net tucked in cozily for the night.  Instead, I was still awake sitting on the edge of a hospital bed with bright florescent lights shining down on me.  Cat, the woman who founded Bamboo School, had called me after I had managed to get the last kids home from school, asking if I could go stay at the hospital to take care of baby Bekah (10 months old) who was sick and staying there.  Sure! How difficult could that be?  I was a bit unprepared for the response I received upon walking into the hospital ward where Bekah was staying.  I swear every mother, grandmother and woman converged on me.  Clucking and firing rapid Thai at me.  I practically had to fend them off as I held Bekah in my arms.  It was overwhelming as I didn't know enough Thai to communicate with them.  All the women seemed to think that they knew best how to take care of Bekah, and that this little, young white girl surely did not know what to do.

I couldn't tell them how to leave me alone.  I didn't know how.  I couldn't tell them that I had been taking care of babies since I was fourteen and that Bekah needed special care because of her sickness.

I was hungry.  I hadn't eaten anything since early that morning.  I couldn't tell them that. I didn't know how to ask where to buy food.

I just wanted a hug from my comforting mom.  I wanted to be asleep in a bed that I knew.  I wanted to talk to someone.  I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't know anyone there.

So, there I was.  Sitting on the bed with sweet baby Bekah asleep next to me, cold, tired, frustrated and hungry.  In the next bed over, an older woman who was a burn victim was just as uncomfortable as I had been feeling with her bundled and bandaged hands and feet.  She must have understood and she must have had a mother's intuition.  Even though she was obviously in pain and she couldn't even get the pills to her mouth, she could still offer me my first Pad Thai.  I hungrily devoured it out of its street paper wrapper with my bare fingers as I had no fork.  And then I realized, as I was eating, that I didn't feel quite so alone.

As I later learned, her daughter had broughten her the Pad Thai for dinner not realizing she had already eaten the hospital food.  The older woman and I never really got to say much to each other in the way of words, but we shared a bond of understanding of what it means to be uncomfortable and to feel out of place.  I got to repay her over the next few days at the hospital as I helped her take her medicine and helped her eat seeing as how she couldn't use her bandaged hands.

I did eventually learn how to say, "I am hungry." in Thai. 
                    

 

A Little Advice for Ya

Honestly, when it comes to experience I don't have a whole lot of it.  Sometimes I'm a little bit short when it comes to brains and common sense too.  I like to blame it on my hair color, but that's probably a sorry excuse.  I can give you some advice though. 

1) Never assume that people outside the U.S. know how to drive.  This is not intended as a jab at their driving skills.  Its just that some people don't know how to drive a vehicle, period.  I guess I didn't understand that considering that in the U.S. the car to human ratio is 1:2.  Most of us Americans get a chance to learn how to drive as we grow up, take Driver's Ed, and own a vehicle.  Some people in other countries have never even ridden in a car let alone driven one.   

2) Whenever teenage boys ask to drive always say no.  No matter how many times they ask.  I'm assuming this applies to everywhere in the world.  In my case, Thailand especially.   

3) Never attempt to teach someone how to drive when you can't speak the same language.  Don't even let them get behind the wheel until you can explain the concepts of fast and slow, clutches, gears, and most importantly brakes.   

4) When the inevitable happens, like a car crash.  You just got to suck it up, put off that overwhelming feeling of shame and embarrassment, and call someone who can help you.  Hopefully, you are not in this alone. 


At this point, you should be sensing that there is story behind all this.  Luckily, I do know enough not to embarrass myself too much by putting it out there for all to see on the great big world of web.  Lets just say it involved the old green truck. . .