Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Learning to Run




Everyday for the past 2 weeks, I’ve been running on a road meticulously strung about with cow dung. The road encircles a charming lake surrounded by coconut and banana trees, village houses—ranging from beautiful “western style” houses to more traditional Thai wooden ones atop stilts, and the local wat. Children, most of them students at my school, stop playing as I run by and yell “hello teacher!” or "Farang! Farang!” Every now and then one of them will run alongside me for a few meters before running back to screaming companions. Rice farmers, on their way back from the fields atop their rot kwai leks, little makeshift tractors that, when translated literally from the Thai, mean "little buffalo", wave and give me the thumbs up. The cow herders will slap their cows out of the way. Young highschool girls yell “I love you!” from the local goitiao stand while the young men of the village, chilling by their motorcycles will invite me to drink “whisky Thai” with them. Sometimes, I get to catch the monks—in their stunning saffron robes—hanging out by a rundown, wooden dock on an adjacent lake, feeding the fish.


This has been my “running environment” for two weeks now and I’ve enjoyed it tremendously. The funny thing is, I’ve never been a runner. My father’s been into running for some time now; running is a source of quality bonding time for my girlfriend and her family; one of my best friends in college was so into running that during our semester abroad in Oxford, he invested in running shoes (at the cost of sacrificing some beers at the pubs). And yet, despite this inclination towards running from those closest to me, I never quite understood how they could enjoy what I considered to be a rather boring exercise—one I considered inferior to basketball or any other sport where running was merely a part of a greater whole.


Lately however, I’ve begun to understand why they run. It’s like meditating almost. I’ve found it to be a perfect opportunity to process everything that happened during the day (and as a Peace Corps Volunteer, there is certainly a lot to process…whether the day was eventful or not). The forty or so minutes I’ve run everyday have been therapeutic in so many levels. And they’ve made me appreciate my life here in a special way. Running around the lake everyday has allowed me to really take in the essence of my village surroundings. I get to hear the sounds, see the sights, smell the scents (thankfully there is more to smell than cow dung) and yet I don’t get tied down by any one thing in particular. I get to take it all and yet I get to keep on running and processing how vibrant everything is. Simply put, I feel so alive.


The benefits have been wonderful. Not only have I felt healthier, I’ve also found that I’ve slept so much better, felt more at peace, and I’ve actually made some good gains in my language learning (I’m seriously trying to learn how to read and write Thai) I do believe that running has helped center me. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that I exercise by a beautiful, vibrant lake and by the time I end, it’s usually sunset…and sunsets by my village’s lake are simply stunning.
I wouldn’t call myself a serious runner quite yet but I’m certainly enjoying running now more than in any other time of my life. And for now, that is fine with me.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

An Awesome Birthday

If anyone had told me a few years ago that my 24th birthday would be a 5 night affair, I would have laughed and said, “That would be awesome.”


If anyone had told me a few years ago that on my 24th birthday I would be surrounded by people I had just met but have become like family to me, I would have smiled and said, “That would be awesome.”


If anyone had told me a few years ago that part of my 24th birthday celebration would take place in a little village in rural Thailand and that rural village would in fact be my home, I would have thought the person telling me this crazy but I would have said “That would be awesome.”


Now, if anyone had told me a few years ago that my 24th birthday would be a 5 night celebration in a village in rural Thailand, surrounded by an amazing group of people, and would involve teaching English to 168 screaming Thai children, a whole lot of Karaoke, drinking with VIP’s of my village (and province) at 4 in the afternoon, walking around a beautiful lake, having grasshoppers while sitting around 1000 year old Khmer ruins, turning my home into the closest thing to a frat house this side of Thailand has ever seen, playing pusoy dos till the wee hours of the morning, hanging by a pool, having a generous serving of gelato for under 1 dollar, eating a sushi restaurant out of rice, getting sloshed and then dancing to music I do not understand while smoking a hookah…if anyone at all had told me a few years back that my 24th birthday would be celebrated this way…I would have shaken my head in disbelief, shrugged my shoulders as I thought this person insane, and let out a smirk…though underneath the head shaking, shoulder shrugging and the smirk would be the words “man, that sure would be awesome.”


Well, as I type this entry while dealing with a bad hangover, a dazed mind, very slow reflexes, an exhaustion I have not felt since my college days, a horrible sore throat, a room that smells worse than my horrible air freshener, and a very content smile, "alls I know" is this: my 24th birthday was AWESOME


To all of you that made my 24th birthday so special—Thank you. My house still reeks and my bathroom is horrendous but the sound of your collective laughter still echoes through the walls. And believe me when I say this: my little village will never be the same. Farang fever is running high. Already, I’ve had so many questions about the farangs that invaded Kin Kao Tung Nung Phamai and when you all will return. Their beds and pillows and blankets (as well as the beer, ice and peanuts), my neighbors have assured me, are ready for you to come back.


And to those who I was not fortunate enough to celebrate with (though I appreciate all the greetings you sent via phone, email, Friendster and Facebook)—here’s to 25!!! Cheers!