Keep Your Eyes on the Moon and Your Feet Muddy

A Hike, Some Beer and the Stars

2009-03-01T23:13:00.002+07:00

Great are the lessons one can learn
Through a hike, some beer and the stars.
Great teachers opening up the truths of life:
That silence has a voice;
And things happen for a reason;
That there is a world outside of ourselves;
And that, despite our differences, we are very much the same.

Making us feel so alive
By bringing us back to that which is essential:
Reminding us that work is not an end in itself
But a means to an end;

And that end is to live life.
For life, in all its beauty, fullness and mystery
is best lived through a hike, some beer and the stars.

Under the Harvest Moon

2008-11-07T14:18:00.003+07:00

Sitting by the beach under the presence of a harvest moon,
The stars caught in a thin net of clouds.
I listen to the sweet song of the waves—a prayer, a chant.
I watch the water foam as it kisses the shore—a brilliant flash of white
And, quickly as it appears it is no more,
Replaced a split second later by a new generation of waves.
So must our lives seem to the gods: brief and easily replaceable.
But for that one brief second we explode and share in the majesty of existence
As real as the stars and the moon.

I am Still Happy

2008-11-07T09:42:00.004+07:00

Happy camper. 22 months ago.

Where do I begin?

It’s been about 6 months since my last posting and I’ve had so many experiences that it would be impossible to catch up. I’ve been on two trips outside of Thailand, several trips within, met new people, read new books, been hospitalized with dengue, had both an mri and ct scan to look at my sinuses, had visitors from home, squashed at least 60 cockroaches that have run out of my bathroom drain and said goodbye to my dearest uncle. I even voted for a new president!

Hail to the Chief!

All these experiences (and there have been so many more) have their own stories and I hope to eventually share a couple. But for now I’ll share this:

I am still happy.

I’ve been in Thailand 22 months and while there have been times when I’ve felt that I’ve been here too long (22 months too long at times) it has been a great experience overall—one I know I will always look back on with fondness. I’ve learned so much about myself (not all good things) and I’ve stretched myself in ways I never would have thought possible. I have never regretted my decision to do what I am doing but I’ve certainly had little regrets over the course of my time here—not writing more being one of them. I do take heart however in knowing that though I did not get to write about my time here as much as I would have wanted, I did make sure to savor every experience and squeeze as much from them as I possibly could

In his beautiful essay, The Eloquent Sounds of Silence, Pico Iyer writes, “silence is only as worthy as what we can bring back from it.” What do I have to offer after 6 months of silence? Well, I am not necessarily more mature nor am I significantly wiser now than I was 6 months ago (countless hours spent on fantasy football might in fact have made the opposite true). I’ve also found that I have lost all ability of writing poetry and while I am still charming as ever, my 22 months in a Thai village have weakened my English skills to a disturbing degree (and its hard to be charming and witty when the words don’t flow quite easily). Hmmm…what do I have to offer? Not much it seems.

But I am still happy.

If, through the craziness that is known as Peace Corps life and through the pain of losing one so dear and the uncertainty of what to do after my time here, I’ve managed to remain happy—not just the “I’m okay” kind of happy but the “my cup is filled and I’m excited about life and I still laugh from my stomach” kind of happy…I must be doing something right. And this isn’t such a bad thing to offer. I know the last 4 months of my service will be filled with experiences—good and not so good; exhilarating and mundane. I will have moments that will make me want to stay longer and moments that will make me excited to pack my bags and leave. Through all these different experiences I know my faculty to appreciate and find blessings will be as strong as ever.

And I will continue to be happy.

Now if could only consistently write about it.

Still "laugh from the stomach" happy

The Hammock

2008-05-25T11:07:00.001+07:00

Come lay dear friend by the hammock
And speak to me of olden times
The world were told
Is dark and cold
And seen its best days pass it by.

And yet dear friend
Here by a hammock
Under skies no plane has passed
We share a view—a joyous view of a world that has
lasted quite a while.

And remains quite young.

Neither dark nor cold
Nor bland and old
Our world has aged with grace

As the gentle wind blows on our hammock strings
So too, has been the passing of our days.

Those Crazy Americans

2008-05-21T15:26:00.010+07:00

*help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of Thais
*help promote a better understanding of Thais on the part of the Americans
--Goals 2 and 3 of Peace Corps

“It’s so refreshing” my friend Maria told me “to be around crazy Americans.” The crazy Americans she was referring to were my friends Tony, Pedro and Kathy who, at the precise moment of her comment, were walking around the local mall wearing masks (Pedro was a power ranger, Tony was Voltron, Kathy was a panda) and waving at confused Thai children. Refreshing was one word to describe their visit. Entertaining, Ridiculous, Hilarious and Crazy are others that come to mind.

The month of March, that found me hosting four friends from California, was nothing short of hilarious, entertaining, ridiculous and crazy. It was also a lot of fun. It was such a joy being able to share this part of my life with friends. Not only did I get to expose them to a life I had been living for about a year but I also got to see my own experience through new lenses. Seen through my friends’ eyes, nothing was too mundane or commonplace. Things I had come to take as routine—lizards running all over my house, the food, the chill vibe that reverberates throughout the village, my muay thai fighting villagers—were all sources of wonder for my friends. And their excitement was contagious. I’ve always been a big fan of Thai food but having my friends rave about how good it was (not to mention how cheap) reanimated my taste buds and I found myself not just eating for eating’s sake but eating the way eating should be done—with full enjoyment. I went through the gai yang, tom yum, som tum and kaoniaw with a gusto that I had not had for a while....around one week. Meals became a major part of my friends’ itinerary and we took full delight in it. My villagers of course, as is the norm in Thailand, have made sure to point out that I’ve gained some weight.
Perhaps the single best thing about their visit (other than the chocolates they brought over) was the interaction they had with my village. One of the best privileges that comes with being a Peace Corps Volunteer is the opportunity to serve as a bridge between American culture and that of the host country. My friends got to see and partake in a Thailand not seen in travel brochures and my villagers…well, they got to see some crazy Americans. I took my friends to work with me and had my kids attempt to teach them the local dialect. Let’s just say my students got a glimpse of what I go through trying to teach them English.

I must admit I felt a lot of pride watching my kids interact with my friends. When I first arrived in the village, these 5th graders were too shy to speak. Now they were asking questions to foreigners they met for the first time! I told my kids that Nikki worked in fashion and they all got the impression that she was either a designer or a model. With my limited vocabulary, I think I led them to believe she was actually both. One of the first things they asked her was to teach them how to walk like a model. My 5th grade girls absolutely loved it (so did the boys) and one afternoon, my thousand year old ruins were transformed into a catwalk with Nikki and 5 of my students as the models. What the monks must have been thinking!

How to sway hips and a horrible ear for tonal languages were not the only things my friends brought over of course. Through my friends, my villagers got to see the diversity and the energy that makes America so beautiful. That none of my friends were the blond, blue eyed Americans my villagers associated with America cemented aspects of America I've been sharing with them all along: that America is a truly diverse country; that we all don't look alike, don't sound alike, don't have the same religion and yet, we are all Americans; that beauty is not measured only through a light skin tone but by who a person is inside; that Americans are in fact interested in other cultures and peoples and are in fact willing to travel to a rural village in northeastern Thailand inorder to learn more about other cultures and spend time with other peoples. My villagers, while appreciating my work here have always wondered why I would leave America to live amongst them in rural Thailand. They've always thought I was a bit crazy for doing so. Meeting my friends and seeing their genuine appreciation for life in the village was a source of pride for my community. I'd like to think I became even less of an anomaly in my villagers' eyes after the visit.

As I continue to work on Goal 1 of Peace Corps—to help a country meet its need for trained men and women, I’m glad to know that Goals 2 and 3 are being accomplished…one crazy American at a time.

Manifold Expressions of Life part 1

2008-05-07T11:09:00.002+07:00

“I spent more hours than I can count a quiet witness to the highly mannered, manifold expressions of life that grace our planet. It is something so bright, loud, weird, and delicate as to stupefy the senses.”
- from the Life of Pi

Ajan Mai sits on a stone block, shirtless, devotedly working on wood carvings of the Buddha as I bike past his home in the afternoon. At night I head to school to call Caitlin and he is still there—a lone fluorescent light bulb his only source of light.

Across the street my eighty four year old neighbor’s bare breasts dangle like balloons filled with water as she peels papayas.

I see a kindergartner from my school, stick in hand, walking barefoot as she leads five emaciated
cows home. She smiles and waves.

A 5th grade student of mine is picking petals off a flower. She is reciting “he loves me, he loves me not” in a language I now understand.

I watch my Thai grandmother weave silk. It is meticulous work. After a while, she notices me observing her. She smiles her beautiful toothless smile and asks if I have eaten. Three minutes later she is serving me a fried egg and some sticky rice.

Some of the village boys approach me while I am reading by the ruins. They carry a chicken. They then proceed to throw the chicken as high as they can before chasing the frightened animal all over the place. Their laughter (not to mention the chickens panicked cackling) fills the temple. I can’t decide whether I am more amused by their game or by the fact that their playground happens to be one thousand year old temple ruins.

It’s 5:30 PM. I watch the monks as they feed the fish, their saffron robes in visual harmony with the colors reflected by the lake. The sky basks in a brilliant sunset.

It’s 6:30 AM. The women of my village are beautiful in their silk dresses. There is a peaceful deliberateness in their stride as they carry food baskets to the wat.

It’s 7:00 PM. I am in my room unwinding over a book and listening to music. I hear my Thai grandfather chanting. His room is right next to mine. He is meditating. I turn down my music and continue reading, mesmerized by the ancient language reverberating through my room.

It is 9:00 PM. I step outside my house to take out the trash. The entire village is asleep. All I hear is the sound of crickets.

It is 10:03 PM I hear my Thai grandfather wake up to use the bathroom. I hear his bed creak, his door slide open. I hear him pass gas.

I am attending the funeral of Ajan Wichits brother in law. We eat tom yum, steamed fish, fried pork and sticky rice under a tarpaulin tent. Everyone I know from the village is there. Ajan Wichit sits by me, his shoulders sagging. He says, in English, “I am tired”

My 5th grade girls start telling me their crushes. They all giggle and blush.

I see my student, Gon, walking alone along the lake. I form my right hand into a fist and bounce it atop my left palm. He does the same. We start playing paper-rock-scissors from across the lake. We take turns winning but he ultimately beats me. I shake my fists at him playfully and I can see him laughing. There is more oomph in his step as he walks home.

I help my friend Ej with his life skills camp. One of the activities entails us making a grid in the ground. The grid is set up in advance. The next day we come in early only to see that the kids have made up their own game using the grid. Their laughter can be heard from the meeting hall.

I hitch a ride from the main road down to my village. Along the way, we stop to pick up some offerings for the temple in another village. I see two teenage boys passed out on a hammock, 7 bottles of beer lying on the dirt floor. It is 3 PM.

It is the beginning of the school year. I am teaching my 5th grade class when I notice an extra child in my classroom. A tiny kindergartner is sharing a seat with her older sister, coloring in her coloring book. She attends my class everyday for a week, sharing her older sister’s seat and coloring while I teach about pronouns. No one seems to mind.

I sit by the lake. I see my neighbor teaching his grandson how to use the slingshot. The child is focused, exuding only silent determination as stone after stone disappears into the lake. My neighbor, the new grandfather, is basically squealing in delight.

I am in one of Bangkok’s overcrowded outdoor markets that cater mostly to foreigners. My friend haggles down the price for some bootlegged watches. The seller, getting visibly impatient as my friend decides which exact watch he wants, snaps at us and yells for us to leave his stall. It is one of the few times I’ve ever seen a Thai get upset.

I’m at the arrival terminal of the international airport in Bangkok. A Thai lady my age is waiting for her 45 year old Canadian boyfriend. She has been waiting in the airport longer than I have and all she has is a flight number. I try to teach her how to understand the arrival information on the screens but she has difficulty following all the times and info. In the course of our conversation, I realize that she is not sure whether she can distinguish him from the other white men coming out of the arrivals gates.

Living Quotations

2008-03-27T10:05:00.002+07:00

As a person who appreciates quotations and poetry, I’ve been fortunate to meet people, who, in their own unique ways, have embodied some of my favorite quotations and poetry, bringing them out of the page into life. My friend Kristin for example, exemplifies Thoreau’s quotes of “living deliberately” and “sucking the marrow out of life.” A buddy, Ej, with his uncanny knack of turning otherwise ordinary trips into something extraordinary, gives life to Francis Quarles’, “The world’s an inn, and I am her guest.” Whitman’s song is shared by my friend Susan who is always “afoot and lighthearted” as she takes to the “open road.” The opening lines of Robert Service’s The Tramp bring me back to my dorm-room days with my college buddies:

Can you recall, dear comrade, when we tramped God’s land together,/
And we sang the old, old earth-song for our youth was very sweet;

(Of course, when it comes to my college buddies, there has certainly been more than a few of them that have personified Henry Youngman’s quote: When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.)

Caitlin’s ability to light up a room with her laughter and bring out the best in people is an embodiment of William Saroyan’s “Seek goodness everywhere and when it is found bring it out of its hiding place” and several people I met during my work in the Catholic Institute for La Sallian Social Action (people like James, and Jaime, and Devin, and Casey) embodied Gandhi’s “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

Recently, I’ve witnessed two people bring another favorite quote to life.

I’ve always admired these words from Martin Luther King Jr:

"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."

I admired the words for its poetry and romanticism but primarily for its message. It’s been a thrill to see it come to life in an extraordinarily ordinary way.

In an earlier blog, I mention my new found appreciation for running around my village lake. What I don’t mention is that on my way back to my home, I pass by a tiny house with a tiny garden. Everyday, there is this kid and his grandmother tending to the garden. I’ve certainly seen people water plants before but for some reason, I’m drawn to this kid and his grandmother and I always stop even for the briefest of moments to watch them at work. There is a consciousness to their actions, something special— not necessarily in the same way that listening to Beethoven’s 9th is special or reading one of Hamlet’s soliloquies or looking up at the paintings of the Sistine (or gazing at the David)—but special nonetheless…in its own simple way.

Perhaps its how the grandmother seems like an extension of the earth as she bends gently tending to the plants or how the kid dutifully fills his bucket with water from the lake across the street and carries it back to the plots or how the two of them, without talking, seem to communicate to the other what needs to be done or how, when juxtaposed against the sunset, their garden seems to blush in golden hues—a manifest illustration of nature’s tranquility.

Or perhaps it’s simply because in their heart of hearts, they were called to work in a garden.

And they do their work well.

When My Mind is Full

2008-03-26T11:50:00.002+07:00

When my mind is full
I often go for a walk
And walks take me far.

Often, it’s as if I go back in time
Where all is untouched by industry
‘Tis when I see the young monks at play
Their robes—brilliant saffron; sun kissed
And their laughter in harmony with the bird’s song.

Often it’s as if I walk into a glimpse of the future
Or at least what the world would look like
Should we learn to lay down our arms and biases.
Tis when I see the elder monks at peace
Their robes—a wise hue of brown; wind blown
And their presence in harmony with the wind’s song.

Often, it’s as if I walk into a more conscious present
where life is lived with full awareness.
Tis when I see the monks close to my age,
Their robes becoming; deliberate like the night
And their laughter in harmony with my own soul’s song.

When my mind is full
I often go for a walk
And walks take me far.

Those Ancient Khmers

2008-03-26T11:43:00.002+07:00

I am running late for my train. The driver taking me to the train station, a bald, middle aged Thai man with long strands of white hair sprouting from a mole in his cheek and a gift for conversation, is excited to learn that I am from the Northeastern region of Thailand. He speaks enough English to engage in conversation about the old Khmer ruins widespread in my neck of the woods. We compare Phi mai and Phnom Rung; talk about the lesser known ruins like Ku Phra Kona and Ku Ka Sing; and he tells me about the beauty of Khao Phra Wihan. I don’t mind him talking as long as he keeps driving.

“Do you know how the Khmers built those temples in the mountains?” he asks me.

“I have no idea”.

He looks at me and gives me one of those smiles. “Well I do”.

And thus begins a rather tense 5 minutes

He starts telling me the story, his foot easing from the pedal as his excitement builds up.

“The ancient Khmer” he declares in rapid oratory “had clean hearts!”

“Clean hearts, got it” I say, nervously glancing at my watch

“They had no technology but their hearts were clean!”

His voice starts rising, his passion more evident, his pride swelling at the opportunity to impart his wisdom upon me. His feet leave the pedal completely. We are parked on the side of the street. His hands flailing wildly in the air like a symphonic maestro, his message being delivered with a fervor becoming of a minister:

“And they had faith! And so they had power! The big stones felt like chog to them!”

“Chog?” I ask, actually a bit captivated by the story (I had given up hope of making my train)

“Yes!” he screams as he begins writing things in an imaginary blackboard “like chog!”

“Oh, like chalk”

“Yes, like chog!”

“Got it”

He goes on, his tone rising, his vocabulary taking on a biblical quality:
“And because of faith, five men were like one and twenty men were like one and one was like many…and because it was for god, they worked with one mind and one clean heart”

I’m carefully working out the previous statement (how the hell is five like one and twenty like one?) when he suddenly turns to me and eyes me rather suspiciously.

“Do you think” he asks, quite guardedly “that they used elephants?”

“Well, I imagine they would have”

“No!” he screams as if I had uttered some blasphemy “They not use elephants!”

He attempts to clear my sacrilege

“The mountain was like this” he slants his right forearm at a steep angle to his thigh and uses the fingers of his left hand to show elephants attempting to climb the steep mountain

“Elephants” he says, as his left hand slides across his belly “could not walk up”

We sit there thoughtfully for what seems like quite a while. He giving me time to let everything sink in; me trying to work out what other options I might have if I were to miss the train.

“Okay, he says finally, as if snapping out of a trance “we go now”

.............................................................................................................

Post script: The train was blowing its horn as we pulled up to the station. If not for an ancient Khmer like burst of strength that I summoned from the depths of my clean heart (and a whole lot of adrenaline) I doubt my fully filled 85 liter backpack would have felt light as “chog” as I made the dash for my journey back to the Northeast.

The Chase

2008-01-31T14:44:00.000+07:00

So I’m packing my stuff when I hear some screaming behind me. I look back and these 5 kindergartners are running towards me, slapping my back pack, and then running away screaming and laughing. It goes on like this for about 3 minutes. They run closer trying to touch my bag then I turn around and make a scary face and they run away laughing and screaming. It was totally random but really funny as well. Of course once I took out my camera, they would stop to pose before they ran away. Anyways, after 10 minutes of this, I start heading out on my bike and what do you know, they chase me all the way home.

They then hung out outside my house for a while knocking on my door then running away screaming and giggling. I was tired and wanted some rest but I must admit, it was entertaining hearing them have fun outside. I did open the door suddenly one time with a big “boo!” and they almost knocked each other silly running away. Funny stuff. Oh, the life of volunteers.

Pictures from the chase.

Learning to Run

2007-12-18T08:30:00.000+07:00

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.

An Awesome Birthday

2007-12-12T11:45:00.000+07:00

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!

The Voice of "Real"

2007-11-28T11:30:00.000+07:00

'What is REAL?' asked the Rabbit one day, 'Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?'

'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you…’

'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'

'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become’

In the Velveteen Rabbit, the process of becoming real is a painful one: hair falls off, eyes drop out, joints are loosened and become shabby. Amidst the pain however, is something beautiful.

Two experiences this past weekend reminded me of the beauty (and the pain) associated with something “becoming real”. I attended an HIV/AIDS conference in Kamphaengphet, Thailand together with other Peace Corps Volunteers and our Thai counterparts. Dr. John Williams, the country director, opened the conference by sharing a story of a young child he had met many years earlier in Eastern Europe. The child, a 12 year old boy named Marios, was endowed with a spirit that revealed itself magnificently through twinkling eyes and an infectious smile. Marios was one of the top students in his school, was a talented artist who enjoyed water colors, and was such a joy to be around with. Marios was also HIV positive.

Despite his illness, Marios zest for life served as a constant reminder of how life should be lived and he had the gift for inspiring this very truth in the hearts of the people he met. Dr. John happened to be one of the lucky ones. Inspiration however, was not the only gift Dr. John received from Marios. At the end of their meeting, Marios gave Dr. John some of his paintings and his most prized possession—an easter egg painted for him by a friend, with his name inscribed in it. “Remember me” Marios told Dr. John.

Not too long after their meeting, Marious succumbed to the disease.

The story in itself was powerful but it was listening to Dr. John share the story and watching him read from a journal entry written after meeting Marios that struck me most. The way his hands shook while holding the paper; the love and sincerity he carried in his voice as he reread the words he wrote many years ago; the thoughtfulness with which he shared Marios story with our group made me realize that he was not just telling us a story but was, in a special way, sharing Mario’s easter egg with us. He was also fulfilling Marios’ request.

I did not get to ask him—though I suspect this to be true—that a big part of who Dr. John is today; his passion for his work; his outlook on the world—is largely due to a little child with sparkling eyes and an infectious smile and a spirit much larger than his frail body who taught Dr. John a special lesson—and a very real one at that—on the day they met.

The 2nd incident happened on the way home. It was hour 7 of my 12 hour bus ride back to site. I was jotting down thoughts on the power an experience can lend to a person’s voice when I got a call from my friend Tara. After catching up for a bit, I told her about Dr. John’s story and how it had struck me. Tara then told me her own story.

A few months earlier, a student of hers lost his mother to AIDS. The student, a 4th grade boy, was HIV positive himself. It was understood at the time of the mother’s death that the child was to live with his aunt. Somewhere along the way, responsibilities for the child were passed on to his grandmother who, at the time, was also taking care of another grandchild. Before the student could move in with his grandmother, the rest of the family entered the picture and saw to it that the student would not move in for fear that the disease would spread unto the other child and ultimately around the family. The child now lives alone in an empty house and while the grandfather comes every night to sleep in the house, he does so in another room. Given the strong communal culture of Thailand, especially in the rural villages—where families (even extended families) tend to all sleep together—the grandfather staying in a different room pretty much serves to show how ostracized this kid has become.

Tara told me how she cried as she found out more about the situation. Tara of course, like many people, was well aware of the stigma placed on people with HIV and AIDS around the world due to a lack of education about the disease on the part of communities. But, just as is the case with many people, until the issue becomes very real—until people see the ugliness of the stigma up close, affecting someone people actually know—the issue remains as just another sad issue. The very moment she learned about the situation, Tara told me, the issue suddenly became personal…and very real. “I just wanted to take the kid and make his life better” she said.
I have a strong feeling she will and I’ll explain why in a bit.

These 2 experiences stand out from a weekend that was full of inspiration and learning. I wrote these words just before Tara called me,
“we share a lot by giving facts…we perhaps share more by giving stories”
And
“It is when an issue becomes real to us that we acquire the voice to speak about it and touch more than just the mind…we also touch the heart”

This is exactly what happened this weekend. Dr. John and Tara were already involved in meaningful development work but the experiences they shared with me were the very experiences that put a human face on the issue and made it much more real to them. This is why I’m optimistic that Tara will do exactly what she said she wanted to do—make this kid’s life better. Knowing her, Tara will do great things in her village (in fact, she’s started developing a youth group in her community that will work with people affected by AIDS) but now, the importance of AIDS education is no longer just an issue for her. It is very real. The process of it becoming real was not pretty—in fact, it was a painful story—but I know the result will be an even more passionate commitment to educating people.

As for Dr. John, he keeps a picture of a little kid with huge eyes and a smile full of joy, grace and a hint of mischief on his desk—a great and very real source of inspiration for his important work.

These 2 stories remind me of why I love that particular section from the Velveteen Rabbit. They also makes me appreciate the position I am in as a volunteer where I get to experience—first hand—a way of life that not too many people from where I come from get to experience. I also appreciate being in the field with other volunteers—people I consider friends—who are also going through the same things and are able to share their stories with me. These stories are sometimes painful, often beautiful, and always real.

P.S. As I was writing this, I found myself getting super excited that Caitlin and I are doing similar work. As she lives longer in Uganda and I live longer in Thailand, I can only imagine how much we will both experience. I look forward to exchanging stories with her and listening as our voices, when speaking of issues about HIV/AIDS, poverty, gender and development become all the more powerful. I look forward to seeing how our experience in the Peace Corps helps us “become” and shapes us as individuals and as a couple.

Thoughts on Traveling

2007-11-18T20:43:00.000+07:00

“I was born upon thy banks river
My blood flows in thy stream
And thou meanderest forever
At the bottom of my dream”
- Henry David Thoreau

I’ve always thought of rivers as an apt metaphor for my desire to travel—the river’s flow akin to the part of my soul that longs to constantly be on the move. So it comes as no surprise that in the places I’ve been fortunate to travel to, I’ve always been drawn to rivers—be it the Mekong or the Thames; the Kwai or the Seine—and I’ve spent hours sitting by their banks enjoying a book or a beer or both.

I enjoy rivers for the sense of contentment that comes with sitting by them—few things in this world are more calming than a river’s flow—and also for the sense of restlessness it stirs in me. After all, one of the most fascinating things about a river is that a river never ever really stays put; it is always headed somewhere. And it is this—the promise of seeing what is beyond the bend—that touches that part of my soul that longs to travel, inciting it to seek adventure and excitement.

And yet, as I’ve come to appreciate rivers more, I’ve noticed a change in my general attitude towards travel. The excitement has not wavered nor has the longing for adventure (these, I pray, will remain as constant as a river’s eventual journey to sea) but just as I’ve taken a river’s flow as a metaphor for my wanderlust, a river’s ability to bend and shift—I’ve seen stretches of the Mekong dry enough to traverse by foot and sections where I would not dare jump in—has come to represent my evolving understanding of what to travel truly means.

For a while, I loved travel for the sheer adventure of it. I enjoyed the adrenaline rush of hopping on a train or plane, seeing a new place, and then moving on. I loved the idea of waking up in a new city (or country) and not knowing for certain what time it was…or what day it was. This sort of travel was exciting, fueled by stories of rushing for trains and sleeping in stations, and meeting new people everyday; of seeing pictures where I stood by one famous monument in one city wearing the very same thing I wore in a monument of another since I was seeing them both in the same day. Such travel was fun and exciting.

But it was also shallow. I recall that after a backpacking trip to Europe, I came back and told people I loved Barcelona. Looking back, I ask myself: What about Barcelona did I love? Did I even get to know Barcelona? I was there for five days and I doubt I met a single person from Barcelona. I had a wonderful time certainly…but a time that could have been had in any of the other cities I visited in Europe—the only difference being the monuments that I saw…monuments that while exclusive to Barcelona, were not exclusively Barcelona. I realize, looking back, that I did not get to know Barcelona at all.

Lately however, I’ve learned to appreciate staying in a place a little longer or at least staying in a place long enough to truly be there. I admit that such sort of traveling can at times be mundane and highlights are few and far between. But the highlights do come and more often than not, they have as much to do with the simple aspects of life as they do with the grand…and they are just as memorable. I know I’ve been excited about things here in Thailand that I would otherwise have taken for granted—or wouldn’t have stopped to appreciate—when I was backpacking in Europe. Things like nuances in culture, in styles of dress, in social norms, etc—things that I’ve only been able to appreciate after being in Thailand for a while. So I daresay that there is indeed a charm about staying in a place long enough to know it—if not completely at least intimately. Like a farmer might say he knows a field for instance; or a ranger, a forest; or a citizen, a city; or a hiker, a mountain.

Or like a person might know a river. “I’ve known rivers” Langston Hughes once wrote. The intimacy he goes on to describe—being lulled to sleep by the Congo; sitting by the Nile and building pyramids by it; watching the change of hue by the Mississippi —suggest an element of waiting…and staying…and watching. At the end of the poem, he exclaims “My soul has grown deep like the river.”

My experience in Thailand, where I’ve slowly immersed myself in a way of life that I could have easily bypassed has added depth to my being and has broadened my perspective. Whenever I find myself longing for the excitement of experiencing new places at a faster pace, I pause and take into account what I am able to experience: the unfolding of the rice season, spending hours sitting by a hammock alongside cow herders and rice farmers and learning about their lives, being able to have meals with villagers, learning about their conceptions (and misconceptions) of America, and so much more. And most nights I find that my cup is filled. On the other nights where my cup might not necessarily be filled—where homesickness, or boredom, or a lack of a sense of purpose sink in, I just try to remain thankful for being given the opportunity to see the world in such a different way and pray that the river bends tomorrow.

My desire to see the world is strong—perhaps stronger than it has ever been. But now, the river that meanderest at the bottom of my dreams—the very fountainhead of my wanderlust—happens to be a wiser, deeper one.

A Beautiful Bike Ride

2007-11-02T09:35:00.001+07:00

Some pics from a nice bike ride around the village on a beautiful day

Beautiful Roi-Et

2007-10-15T14:41:00.000+07:00

During my site visit last February, I remember not being too impressed with my city. I loved my village but I felt my province's major city did not have much to offer.

I was wrong.

True, Roi-Et isn't as exciting as Khon Kaen or Ubon (some of the more major cities of Northeastern Thailand) but what it lacks in excitement, it more than makes up for in charm. Roi-Et is certainly a charming city. Because of it's relatively small size, there is a coziness about the place and the traffic that plagues bigger cities is none existent. The people are friendly, the food is good and the streets are pretty clean.

As I've come to spend more time in it, I've found myself thankful that instead of having huge shopping malls or a variety of bars, Roi-Et instead has a good amount of wats (Thai temples) In fact, it seems one cannot walk 5 minutes in the city without seeing one.

The wats here as really beautiful too. Being in Thailand for 9 months now, I've gotten quite used to seeing these intricate buildings and the wonder they inspire in me has lessened over time. This hasn't been the case in Roi-Et though. Despite the amount of temples in the city, none of them are what I would call "typical" wats. In fact, every wat seems to have little nuances in the architecture that make them standout. One wat for instance has "guardians" with black skin. I've seen lot's of giant guardian statues in wats but I've never seen dark ones. My friend's Ej and Liz were able to take pictures of these peculiar guardian statues and when I obtain a copy, I'll be sure to post them. There is also a beautiful Chinese style wat in Roi-Et and the tiles used in the roof and walls--an almost pastel blue like color--is very different from the traditional Thai style wat.

The most popular wat however in the city would have to be the wat with the giant Buddha structure. The wat itself is pretty much like most of the wats I've seen in Thailand but beside it is the tallest standing Buddha in Northeastern thailand (some people claim that it's the tallest in all of Thailand)

There is actually a staircase where visitors can go up to the feet of the giant Buddha and I've been told that sometimes, the monks will even allow you to climb yet another staircase that takes you up to the knees of the statue where one can get a view of the entire city! I have yet to do this though it's something I hope to accomplish before my time in Roi-Et is done. When Caitlin was here, we did get to go up to the feet and the view from there was pretty impressive--not as impressive as the statue's feet though!

Another must see in Roi Et (and if anyone just meanders around for 15 minutes, one is bound to come across it) is Bung Palanchai lake. Just as Roi-Et is located in the very heart of Isan (Northeastern Thailand) this beautiful lake is in the very heart of Roi-Et. I read a travel brochure that described Bung Palanchai as being "just as beautiful as any lake in the west" While I'm not entirely sure about that statement, I must admit that I think Bung Palanchai is absolutely gorgeous and anyone who visits--be they from the west or the east--is sure to be impressed. Life in Roi-Et pretty much revolves around this lake. It's a great place for families to spend time together and for young (and old) lovers to hang out. It's a great place for sports as well. In the centre of the lake is an impressive walking Buddha statue and I've seen alot of Thai folks having picnics by it. Here are two more pictures around the lake area.

6 months!

2007-09-28T10:20:00.000+07:00

Recently I had a nice little surprise. I found an old CD that contained pictures of my first few months in site. Looking at the pictures, I realized just how much I have experienced in the 6 months that I have lived in my village.

I've had interesting meals

and met interesting people.

I've even met interesting people having interesting meals.

I’ve discovered new flavors of ice cream

and seen new ways of fishing

I’ve introduced kids to a sport I've always held dear

and they’ve introduced me to their favorite holiday

Learning about the culture has been fascinating!

From dancing

to parades

to dancing in parades

from honoring monks

to honoring structures

It's been fun

Maybe a little too fun....

Living in a village has its share of interesting and "crappy" moments—that’s just outside my door and that’s the culprit

But its mostly a very rewarding experience
It helps that I believe in my work

And that I enjoy the people I work with (most of the time)

And that I enjoy the people I work for (all the time)

Basically, life in the village has been pretty sweet....

...and pretty chill

A Blackout Story

2007-09-28T10:16:00.000+07:00

So I’m watching the West Wing when the power suddenly goes out. It’s fine (blackouts are a common occurrence during the rainy season) until I realize that my house is the only one without power. Across the street, I can see several villagers huddled in my neighbor’s house watching a Thai television show. I tell my landlady that my power is out. She in turn tells her brother in law who then tells his father in law (my landlady’s father). My landlady’s mother (who I refer to as my grandmother) finds out and tells her cousin (who I also refer to as my grandmother). Pretty soon, I have my landlady, my grandfather, my uncle, and my two grandmothers either trying to ask me why my power is out or why they think my power is out. Of course, I do not understand much of what they are saying. I find my dictionary and with the help of my flashlight I look for the word “fuse”.

“Ah! Fui!” says grandfather and he takes me behind the house right by the cows. “Ni” he points to what I imagine is the fuse box. Only it looks less like a fuse box than it does a mini power station: a whole cluster of wires, more than a few switches, and more wires. He starts poking around and, not finding any solution, he takes me to another corner, behind the tractor. Again, I see another power station. There is a cluster of hay, and wood, and scrap metal that he has to navigate through as he pokes around. Worried that my grandfather might electrocute himself, I browse through the dictionary and find the word for electrician. “Mi chang fai fa mai?” I ask him.

“Kaw ja ma” grandfather answers, “he is coming.”

I have no idea how or when my grandfather got to contact him but stranger things have happened in Thailand. “Muaray?” I ask “when?”

“Mai nenon” he answers, "Not sure."

Such an answer in Thailand can pretty much mean the electrician is coming sometime in the next 72 hours.

Soon more villagers come. My neighbor from across the street who is pretty drunk (it is 8:30 PM after all—which means he has been drinking for roughly 5 hours) starts poking around the power stations; pulling on wires and flicking switches. I worry for him too. After several attempts he looks at me and offers a shrug.

Grandmother number one comes aside and, in a whisper almost, asks “Non ti ban dai mai?" She wants me to sleep in their house.

At this point, with the odds of me getting my power back getting slimmer with every poke and flicker of the switches, I start entertaining the idea of sleeping in my hammock. But before I can express this to grandmother, I see that my landlady is already shooing her kids away from the living room and sweeping her floor. They offer me a mosquito net. How can I refuse?

I tell them that I’ll just grab a quick shower—since the power of the village is still on, I know that I at least have running water at home. While my only source of light is my flashlight, there is enough light for me to notice little shadows running around the drain area. I shine the light and see a whole family of cockroaches running out of and around the drain. I grab a mop close by and with mop in one hand and the flashlight in the other (and the shower head between my neck and shoulders), I start attacking, hurting some and killing a few. The survivors run back inside the drain. I continue with my shower paying careful attention to whatever else might decide to come out of the drain (I’ve had centipedes and huge lizards in the past). The rest of the shower however, is uneventful.

I bring a small foldable mattress and my electric fan to my neighbors place. I notice my sleeping area has several spiders around but I am too tired to bother doing anything. I crawl under the collapsible mosquito net they have provided for me and attempt to take my fan inside. My fan is a little too big for the collapsible net they give me and I’m left with two choices: sleep in the heat or take my fan under the net and risk spiders crawling under the gap between the net and the floor. I decide to take my chances with the spiders.

I swat a few mosquitoes (they have penetrated the net), flick a few bugs (they have crawled under) and shoo a cat away (I have no idea where she came from) before I drift to sleep—thankful for the little lull in my posh corps existence.

Grasshopper Eating Students and a Terrified Volunteer

2007-09-19T17:00:00.000+07:00

Spot Scene

2007-09-11T14:47:00.000+07:00

I remember a book I once read (it may have been a poem) that talked about spot scenes: certain scenes from one’s life—usually pleasant—that are preserved in memory and are quite easy to conjure up… sort of like the “happy place” from Happy Gilmore. I’ve been blessed to have several spot scenes: watching the last sunset of the millennium by a pier in the Philippines with my mom and younger siblings; hiking up a hill in the middle of the night (quite inebriated of course) with college buddies; following the Isis’ gentle stream in Oxford on the way to the Trout; several moments with Caitlin; and many more. Lately, there has been one scene in particular from Thailand—not a single moment per se but a moment that occurs quite frequently—that has taken its place among my favorites. It is a scene that is always new and yet so familiar. A passage from another book I recently read describes it best. I don’t remember the exact words but it’s something to this effect: it (the scene I speak about) is like a new song that is played while you are asleep—you hear it when you awake for the first time…a strange song and yet you know it well.

And the scene is this:

I walk through a road surrounded by rice fields. It is the rainy season and the rice fields are lush carpets of green with hints of red, and yellow, and golden brown strewn about. Above me, the sky is clear save for a few well-fed clouds playfully making shapes. My students walk beside me laughing; teaching me Thai words while I teach them English. We laugh together as we avoid cow patties and little dead snakes on the road. Every now and then, rice farmers will pass us, heading home after a long day in the fields, their makeshift tractors coated in mud, old shirts still wrapped around their heads. They look at me and while all I can see is their eyes, I see them smile with appreciation. They know why I am here. I smile back, glad to be a part of their children’s lives…and thankful that they are a part of mine. My students and I keep walking. We pass little ponds filled with beautiful lilies and wave at other kids biking by, three kids to a bike…sometimes even four. The boys talk to me of David Beckham and the girls show me key chains of Korean and Japanese pop stars. The girls giggle as they push each other to invite me to their homes to drink water. Every now and then, they will ask me, “Do you love Mali?” (Mali, which is Thai for Jasmine, is the nickname my community gave Caitlin during her visit). They all swoon and giggle when I say “yes.” I walk some more as my students run around picking random fruit from trees and bushes, trying to get me to taste them. They stop insisting as soon as I give them the English name for the fruit and instead focus their energies on trying to pronounce the new words correctly. We laugh some more and we keep laughing until we reach the main road. Here, they all scurry off to their homes, but not without saying “goodbye teacher” and giving me a wai. I watch them walk off before I hop on my bike and head home.
It is a beautiful scene—always new and yet so familiar.

Like a new song that is played while I am asleep—I hear it when I awake for the first time…a strange song and yet one I know quite well.

Ultimate Ultimate Frisbee

2007-09-06T11:13:00.000+07:00

Here’s an idea to assess a foreign language learner’s proficiency—have the language learner teach children who speak nothing but the target language a new game. And I’m not talking about Snakes and Ladders here or even Dodge Ball. No. I’m thinking more along the lines of hmm, say…Ultimate Frisbee. If anything, it will be entertaining. Believe me, I should know.

It was innocuous enough at first. I was passing the Frisbee around with two students and after a while, when I noticed they were getting bored, I decided to teach them Frisbee Golf. I figured it would be a fun, easy game to explain…which it was. It was also tremendously boring given the fact that my two playmates had no idea whatsoever on how to throw a frisbee. Soon, a little crowd gathered to watch the foreigner and two of their friends throw the “UFO” at trees (yup, that’s what they called it. They don’t quite understand what “paper” or “blue pen” means but they all know “UFO”). Anyhow, I soon notice the energy level dropping again. So I get the brilliant idea of introducing Ultimate Frisbee. I figure since there’s a bunch of kids, I can get them all involved. I say the word “teams” which they all understand and they begin running towards me wanting to be on my team (I am the cool, UFO wielding foreigner after all). To be fair, I tell the 5th graders to go be on the other team and I stick myself with two 3rd graders, a 1st grader, a 4th grader who looked like he could be beaten up by the 1st grader , and a 6th grader (I wasn’t about to give away all the talent).

After 5 minutes (and a million gestures…think charades) of trying to explain the game in Thai, I noticed that the kids were getting antsy (I don’t blame them. I was getting antsy just listening to myself).

“Kao jai mai?” I finally ask them, “Do you understand?”
“Kao jai!” they shout, excited that we might actually get started before the cows come back to graze in the field (This is an interesting point. Not only is this field the school field, but also the community soccer field, and a popular spot for the cows to graze on.)

So we play. Of course, it becomes clear to me that I might have left out one not too minor detail when I gave the rules: that dropped catches are an automatic turn over. You’d think I’d pick up on this right away (I am a pretty smart guy after all) but I was just so excited to be expanding these kids’ cultural and physical horizons that it took three of my kids literally diving for the rolling frisbee and then wrestling each other in the ground for possession to make me realize I had missed a key rule. One very cool thing about Thai kids though (and I think this is probably true of kids everywhere) is that they just like having fun. And wrestling for a frisbee amidst a field strung generously with cow dung is…well, fun! Kids don’t like getting caught up in all the technical nuances of a game. Just let us play is their collective mindset. So play we did. And it was an absolute blast! Sure, some kids got pretty banged up and a lot of knees were scraped, but they loved it. Plus, my little rules blunder actually worked out because no one knew how to throw the frisbee anyway! The disc spent more time rolling on the ground than soaring in the air. As long as it got anywhere remotely close to the designated end zone, there was always a kid willing to take it for the team who would jump on top of the frisbee (thereby sacrificing scrapes and bruises and ensuring that their mother would have more laundry to do) thus securing possession and therefore earning a point.
It was an afternoon filled with fun and laughter and I was reminded of two facts of life:

1) Kids are absolutely fantastic
----------and-----------

2) I may have my work cut out for me when it comes to learning Thai but damnit, I make for an incredible charades player.

It's a Wild World

2007-08-22T15:10:00.000+07:00

Just finished playing basketball with some of my kids and I'm about to head home and bask in a little slice of heaven I call the cold shower (today was ridiculously hot and humid!) but just wanted to share some amusing bits from the afternoon.

So I'm dribbling the basketball around waiting for school to finish when I see a bunch of my students screaming and running away from one of the teachers. So I head over to see what the commotion is about and there, wrapped around the teacher's shoulders, is this huge snake! So of course everyone is excited to see how the foreigner reacts to the creature (the kids make it a point to show me every insect they get their hands on whether it be deepfried--yup they eat bugs over here--or still alive). The teacher comes close enough for me to see that the snake is at least 6 feet long and not very friendly looking. I, of course, manage to keep an interested face--I nod as the students ask me whether I like snakes--and somehow maintain the poise of someone for whom being several inches from a 6 foot snake is a normal occurence. The teacher, satisfied that there will be no crazy facial expressions from this foreigner, turns around and heads to the school soccer field. I follow curious to see what fate awaits the 6 foot beast. Will it be burned? Beheaded, it's corpse left to feed the ants? Or is snake a delicacy here?

The snake is set free.

With all the questions running through my mind, I forget that I am still in Thailand--a land where people don't just go about killing animals. It's weird because despite the number of insects I've been offered to eat, I have NEVER seen any Thai actually kill a bug of any sorts. A mosquito is feasting on your leg? Shoo it away, that's what your hands are for. So there was the 6 foot snake, on the soccer field and the teacher actually had to chase and shoo it away. So now, not only does my school soccer field double as a grazing field for the village cows, but it's apparently a sanctuary for 6 foot snakes as well. Lovely.

About 10 minutes later, while playing basketball, three of the dogs that hang out in my school (some of them even walk in during my classes...as I type this, one of them is actually under the computer table asleep) had a little argument that they chose to settle...physically. These 3 went all out, howling and snarling and biting and wrestling each other to the ground. Of course none of the kids were surprised by this and instead focused their attention on the foreigner's reaction. I think I maintained a pretty stoic face (though I was a little concerned as the melee inched closer to the basketball court). Almost simultaneously, the chickens next door decided to settle their own little argument physically and while they weren't loud enough to drown out the growling (and whimpering) of the dogs, they made quite a scene of their own. Between the brawl of the dogs, and the ruckus caused by the chickens, and the knowledge that a 6 foot snake was roaming my soccer field, and that a huge beatle with a mettalic green coat was being shoved into my face by my students, I could not help but just laugh at the situation. It was all at once bizzare and amusing and, once I knew all the dogs involved in the fray made it out okay, most entertaining. What a wild world!

Monks By The Lake

2007-08-15T16:01:00.000+07:00

To clear my head (I find that I need to do this often) I usually go for a walk. One of the best things about living in a village is that, if you learn how to appreciate the simple things of life, you never run out of beautiful things to see--whether it be a new tree you never noticed before, or a new path you never took, or simply watching the villagers go about their daily lives. Two days ago, I came across some young monks hanging out by the lake. I've walked past this particular lake several times but I never noticed the little dock that the monks were sitting on. One of them was a friend of mine who recently became a monk (all Thai men are encouraged to don the robe once in their life even if only for a short period of time) and he invited me to sit with them. As I sat there, I could hear the singing coming from the temple beside the lake and it was just perfect. I sat with them for about 40 minutes, answering the questions they had about America and asking them questions about life as a monk. Eventually an older monk who spoke a little bit of English arrived and we got to talk about life in the village and such. It was a great way to spend the afternoon and reaffirmed my belief that there are many special things to see out there...you just need to get out of your chair, get up, and walk to see them.

Some pics:

"Excuse Me, What's Your Name?"

2007-08-08T13:04:00.000+07:00

They come out of nowhere
As if from some enchanted game
The village kids come asking
“Excuse me, what’s your name?”

No time to think about it
Nor wonder from where they came
The village kids come asking
“Excuse me, what’s your name?”

Take whatever route you wish to
Every road turns out the same
When the village kids come asking
(Every day they come asking)
Yes, the village kids come asking
“Excuse me, what’s your name?”

Who you are does not matter
Be you man or be you dame
The village kids come asking,
“Excuse me what’s your name?”

Your mood does not matter
Be you ill-tempered or be you tame
The village kids come asking
“Excuse me what’s your name?”

No method to the madness
No rhyme, scheme, nor aim
The village kids come asking
(Everyday they come asking)
Yes the village kids come asking,
“Excuse me what’s your name?”

Caitlin's Visit

2007-07-20T10:54:00.000+07:00

I remember how I did not want to get my hopes up. Not even when she said that because her date of departure for the Peace Corps had been changed, she would be able to visit. Not even when we spent time looking for good deals online. Not even when she finally purchased a ticket and not even as the date of her scheduled arrival was drawing close. Such thinking was pretty uncharacteristic for an absolute optimist like myself but because I knew how much I wanted this...how much a visit would mean...I tried not to get my hopes up lest anything happen. And something did happen...almost. A few weeks before she was supposed to arrive, there were a couple of tense events that sent ripples through the Thai political landscape. Looking back, I don't think the events were enough to disrupt her trip but at the time, I was worried. Of course, it didn't help that all volunteers were placed on alert and a travel ban to BKK was issued. Things seemed to calm down 2 weeks before she was to arrive and then I got the text message that the situation was getting a bit testy again and the travel ban would have to be reissued. Of course, at this point I had already made hotel reservations and was set to pick her up in BKK. This led to what I consider my most stressful week thus far in Thailand: a series of phone calls, and looking up things online, and checking with various people about the situation in BKK, etc. Eventually (as is usually the case) everything worked out. I was able to find a domestic flight for her to a closer province, found a reliable means of transportation from the international airport to the domestic one and found the strength to swallow the loss of an already paid for hotel room (volunteers don't make too much moolah)

And you know what?

It was ALL WORTH IT.

Caitlin's 2 week visit, while a short one, was filled with so much fun, love, laughter, and excitement that it easily trumped whatever stress I had felt prior to her visit. We got to spend a week in my village, working at my school together, sharing meals with the villagers, and basically just savoring our time together. There was never a dull moment. Our weekdays were filled working at my two schools, playing soccer in the streets with some of the kids in my village, running around and being silly with my students, and enjoying wonderful Thai food. On the weekend, we went on a double date of sorts with a co-teacher of mine and her boyfriend to Phra Chedi Chaimongkol and we spent some time exploring my province's main city, Roi-Et. We also got to spend half a week hanging out in BKK and I got to introduce her to some of my Peace Corps friends.

Best of all, we got to share 2 precious weeks together and we certainly made the most of it by seizing every moment (I'm blessed with a zillion wonderful memories of our time together)! Plus, it was really good for Caitlin to gain some insight into the life of a Peace Corps volunteer since she's taking off pretty soon for her own grand adventure (an adventure that I hope to partake in when I visit her in Uganda! Woohoo!) I think it was especially good for me as well because her visit allowed me to see my experience though a whole new lens. My appreciation for my village, my neighbors, my co-workers, and my life here in general just grew as I shared it all with Caitlin.

So to Caitlin, Thank you so much for visiting! In those two weeks, you added so much color to an already animated life. I look forward to sharing in your own adventure 8 months from now. I love you.

The pics:

Caitlin and I with my students

Dinner with some of my co-workers
Lunch with co-workers from school. Our social calendar was packed during Caitlin's visit.
In Roi-et. That's a big foot!

Hanging out by Bung Palanchaiand feeding the fishes
The teachers at my school all fell in love with Caitlin. This was during a little farewell they planned for her. As a farewell gift, they gave her a beautiful shawl made of Thai silk woven by the ladies of my village.
They then all took turns having their picture taken with her. This is Caitlin with my principal.
Caitlin and her cute boyfriend ;)

My principal and his wife took Caitlin and I to the bus station but not before giving her yet another gift. This time, the shawl was made by my principal's mother- in- law.Hanging out in Bangkok with a couple of Peace Corps buddiesBy the Chao Phraya river

Just checking in

2007-07-19T14:59:00.000+07:00

Its been a while since my last entry...a little over a month and a half I think and so much has happened:

-I read the 6th and 5th books of the Harry Potter series (in that precise order...weird, I know) plus a couple other books

-I finished Seasons 2 & 3 of West Wing (and started rewatching Season 1)

-I was "officially" welcomed into my community (I'll post a blog with pictures soon)

-I got to see all my Peace Corps friends during PST 2 (2 weeks in a beautiful resort with warm showers, a pool and air conditioning....heaven!)

and the highlight of it all...

-I saw Caitlin! Yup, Caitlin got to visit me for 2 weeks and it was AWESOME!!!

These past 45 days have been filled with so many stories and pictures that it will probably take a while for this blog to catch up. Do know however, that all is well and I am fine and happy. I definitely still find myself asking from time to time what it is exactly I'm doing over here (I doubt I'll stop asking that question anytime soon) but I'm certainly enjoying the ride.

And oh, btw, last week was my 6th month in Thailand. Sweet!

As I, In Solitude, Lay--An Ode to a Power Blackout

2007-05-29T15:29:00.000+07:00

Every now and then, life sends us a message that pretty much says slow down. Anyone who read my earlier post about the slow pace of life in the village would probably think that I wouldn't have a problem with slowing down...after all, its pretty much a way of life over here. I would have thought so too if not for the fact that I've felt a certain sense of disconnect lately. I think this feeling has stemmed from my inability to drum to the village's beat. I've gotten so used to the mentality that just sitting down for hours on end is akin to being unproductive. "If I'm to just sit," I've told myslef, "I might as well make sure I'm being productive while sitting." Attempts to be productive have included practicing my Thai, reading whatever material I get my hands on, writing, etc. While there is nothing wrong with these, I've realized that it's also important to learn how to just sit with oneself. Not to say I haven't tried (though I can't get past 2o minutes before I start feeling like I'm wasting time.)

But, as I said, life sends us messages every now and then. In my case, it was sent through a blackout. Not just any blackout (blackouts are a normal occurance in my village.) There were other variables involved in this one. First, the moon wasn't out nor were than any stars. Because of the extreme darkness, I could not read. Next, there was a strong enough breeze that candles were useless. Since no one lit any candles, my entire street was dark. The timing was great too. I've been in my village long enough to not be a source of fascination...people no longer go out of their way to talk to the foreigner. And for some reason, all the kids in my street were gone. Usually, during blackouts, a couple of them would come over and we would make shadow puppets on my wall. Not on this particualr blackout though. All these factors made for 2 hours of laying in my hammock in darkness and silence. It was AMAZING. Granted I took out my ipod and listened to some Bob Marley and Simon and Garfunkel but it was so relaxing. I drifted in and out of sleep. I day dreamt. I sat with my thoughts and let each chain work its way through without jumping from one thought to the next. I was aware of my breathing. I slept somemore. I thought about how cool my work is...how lucky I am to have Caitlin..how awesome my family is. I was in peace. It was one of the most relaxing couple of hours of my life and I enjoyed it. So much that I was actually a little disappointed when my power came back.

Anyhow, I was aware that I had just experienced something special and before I went to bed that night, I wrote these words down.

Twas neither star nor moon
On that May night
As I, in solitude, lay.

Absent too was children's laughter
That had earlier filled the day.

Yet as star and moon and the heart of youth
Were absent from that night
I, in my solitude, embraced all their light

For the moment of peace I felt that night
As I, in solitude, lay
Was filled with the grace of heaven
And the joy of a child at play.

What I Taketh, I Giveth Back

2007-05-28T10:58:00.000+07:00

I love rice. Anyone who knows me knows this. (In fact, my very first blog entry was, as my friend James put it, "an ode to rice.") I have at least a bowl of rice for every meal. Be it brown rice, sticky rice, jasmine rice, grainy rice...it does not matter. If it's rice, i'll eat it...and I'll enjoy eating it.

While I am indeed a proud, happy eater of rice, I am by no means a selfish eater. If it were up to me, I'd want the joy I receive (and believe me, it's quite the joy) from a nice, warm bowl of rice to be shared by all. I'm also aware that I have had my fair share of rice here in Thailand (doing the math, at 5 months with 4 weeks a month at 7 days a week and 3 meals a day...I have consumed at least 420 bowls of rice) I figured I should give back. So it was towards this end that I volunteered to help a teacher in my school plant rice in his field.

We started early, he picked me up at my house around 7, we had breakfast in his place and then we were off to the fields. No amount of sun block was going to protect me from the sun so I had to wear the only long sleeved shirt I brought with me to Thailand and a t-shirt over my face.

The day's job mainly entailed "pitching" the rice evenly around the field and then eventually having a tractor embed them into the soil. We were fairly efficient I thought, dividing up the land into areas each "pitcher" would focus on. There were sacks of rice that were strategically laid around the field--refilling stations if you will-- so we wouldn't have to walk all the way back to the truck to pick up more grain. My teacher's field is but a small section of this giant plateau which is shared by five provinces called the "Tung Kula Rong Hai" which means "The field that made the Kula cry. The Kula is an old tribe and legend has is that a long time ago, as the Kula walked along the field, they realized that there was no end to their journey. The farther they walked, the farther it seemed they had to go. The intense heat added to their despair and they all broke down and cried.

There wasn't any crying going on this day though. In fact, I enjoyed the experience tremendously. The scenery was beautiful. As far as the eyes could see, it was just miles and miles of land. No tall buildings, no smog, nothing but God's good earth, the sky and several farmers. While insanely hot, there was enough cloud cover to grant us little over cast breaks. Hearing the gentle "swoosh" of the grain as it left the hands and fell to the fields mixed with the birds was very relaxing and I soon found myself in a trance almost--as if I wasn't engaged in work but a sort meditation.

We snacked on a baby watermellons (so so refreshing on a hot day) and had lunch by the fields. I was drenched with sweat...literally...and attacked the food like a beast. The meal was a very typical Isan meal--somtam (papaya salad), gai-yang (barbequed chicken) and...drum roll....rice! We lingered over lunch a bit and it was nice getting to know my teacher's family. After some more watermellon and some durian it was back to the fields.

Seven hours in the field can be exhausting but after a quick trip home (and a nice shower) I came back to watch the tractor do its job. It was sunset at this point and only a few farmers were left. After thanking my teacher, Ajan Pusit, for giving me the opportunity to give back to the fields that have so nourished me (I will never stop romanticizing the role of rice in my life) I headed home and prepared for dinner...

Village Life

2007-05-15T14:09:00.000+07:00

Try to recall the longest day of your life. Recall how you looked at the clock, certain that 30 minutes had gone by since you last checked only to realize the a mere 8 minutes have passed.

Now imagine reliving that day everyday for a month and a half.

You just got a glimpse into my last 45 days.

Now you might say "that's rough" and I would say "it is...sometimes."
You might say "that sucks" and I would say "it does...sometimes."
You might ask "how in the world do you do it?" and I would answer "I ask myself the exact same question...sometimes"

Over the past 45 days I've had moments where I've found the pace of life in my village to be too slow for my liking. On such moments, I've said things like "this is rough" and "this sucks" and I've questioned whether I could continue living like this for 22 more months. Fortunately, these moments have only occured sometimes.

MOST of the times, I've found myself ENJOYING my life in the village.

I've enjoyed how what would normally be a 15 minute bike ride becomes 30 minutes because I am stuck in a narrow road behind herded cattle but I don't mind because the landscape is absolutely beautiful.

I've enjoyed how the village kids will pause playing their games or riding their bikes and scream the only English they know "what is your name?!"

I've enjoyed how the village kids have invaded my home and found ways to squeeze themselves into my comfy chair to root for Manchester United

I've enjoyed playing home made board games with my neighbors using the last number from the pages of a book instead of dice because no one has heard of dice (if the book is opened to page 47...that means you can move your board piece seven spaces)

I've enjoyed all these and so much more! Life in the village, while agonizingly slow at times, has been consistently fascinating.

From watching the monks collecting food in the morning to realizing that what I first thought to be a huge block of moss turn out to actually be a lake with fish (and a few snapping turtles) underneath all the greens to witnessing a fishing frenzy like no other to enjoying festivals like Songkran (and all the water soaking) and Bum mung fai (and the funky home made rockets...one of which was in the form of a giant male organ) to the meals I've been invited to partake in to the crazy personalities I've encountered... the village life has provided for ALOT of wonderful sights and experiences.

Hmmm...maybe having long days isn't such a bad thing after all.

Some pics

1) Enjoying songkran with kids from the village

2) Nong Gong lake

3) Day of fishing at Nong Gong--the village leaders designate one day of the year to be fishing day and it's quite the spectacle. People from other villagers partake as well.

4) Lunch with some friends

5) The Rocket

6) Nong Sim lake...doesn't it look like a carpet of moss?

7) Snapping turtle...alot of excitement surrounding the capture of this one. 20 minutes later, all that was left was the shell.

Lost in Translation

2007-04-25T16:32:00.000+07:00

The scenes were so eerily familiar--billboards in foreign script; sitting up in bed all night; trying to figure out how to work the shower; turning on the television and not finding anything sensible--that I was certain one fo two things had to be the case:

1) Soffia Coppola, writer and director of the film, "Lost in Translation", was once a Peace Corps Volunteer

---or---

2) She was familiar with the foreign.

While choice one would make sense given how much the film, "Lost in Translation" parallels scenes from the cross cultural aspect of Peace Corps life, the entire movie itself is universally applicable to anyone who has ever experienced the foreign--and thus, the answer would be #2.

I say experienced the foreign instead of simply saying travelled because in today's world of cheap airfare and tourist packages, it is quite possible to travel and NOT get out of one's element. It is equally possible to stay in place and yet be privy to something entirely new and, well, foreign. This is what the foreign is after all: an experience--be it a place, person, event, or food-- that is so new that once experienced, changes the person experiencing it by providing that person with a whole new set of eyes.

The question then is...what exactly do we do with the foreign?

Bob (Bill Murray) suggests to Charlotte (Scarlett Johanson) that they flee but in the course of their fleeing, they end up throwing themselves against the very thing they were fleeing from--being lost. In a sense, they are not really doing anything new...only this time, they let their guard down. Gone is Bob's tuxedo and on is Charlotte's wig. This, I think, is exactly what we should do with the foreign--throw oursleves against it. No doubt the urge to flee is always present in the face of something entirely new and different but whether we do it conciously or not, by putting our guard down, we develop a power that transforms this urge from a desire to flee to a desire to embrace (granted it might be easier to embrace something entirely new if you get to embrace it with someone like Scarlett Johansen.)

But why embrace the foreign? Why throw yourself against something you could easily lose yourself in? The film's theatrical trailer offers these words,

"Sometimes you have to go around the world to come full circle"

This is a common thought among travelers--the idea of finding yourself only after you lose yourself; that enlightenment comes after trasversing the full circle. "The end of our exploring" Eliot wrote, "will be to arrive where we began and to know the place for the first time."

I've always believed in the idea that traveling into the foreign is not about experiencing the "trouble free" packages offered by the tourist industry but it's about exploring the relationship between travel and travail. There is certainly alot of "travailing" when it comes to experiencing something new and it's in this travailing that we learn most about ourselves and what we are capable of. It is thus that we acquire new lenses and discover who we really are. This is why we embrace the foreign--because by embracing it, we grow in a way that only happens when we broaden our horizons.

And yet, while I am a firm believer that we find ourselves after we lose ourselves, I also like to stress that we need not always rush the finding part; that it is in fact okay to linger a bit amidst the being lost. If the viewing public did not have such a short attention span, I don't doubt "Lost in Translation" would have had more scenes of Bob and Charlotte being "lost" in Tokyo. There would have been at least 2 more photo shoots, 4 more talk shows, 7 more commercials and a dozen more nightlife scenes. 3 more ladies would have asked Bob to "lip" their stockings and Charlotte would have seen 2 traditional weddings, 1 funeral and 6 festivals. There would have been a whole lot more "lost" in the movie.

I know the next 2 years of my life will have a lot of "lost in translation" moments...I've had several already. And while I know that eventually I will become more fluent in the language and I will understand the culture better, I'm definitely enjoying these moments. Besides, some of the stories just would not be as enjoyable if I knew what was going on.

Bpai tiao mai?

2007-04-19T16:06:00.000+07:00

Phi Mi

One of the most enjoyable things about being immersed in a place where you are just beginning to learn the language is that alot of surprises happen. The surprises aren't always pleasant--on a couple of occasions, I have been served a different dish from the one I ordered--but they always make for new, and often enjoyable, results (on every occasion that I've been served a different dish, I ended up enjoying what was served to me.)

Two of the more memorable surprises I've had so far have been trips my co-workers have taken me on. "Bpai tiao mai?" they would ask "you want to go on a trip?" Now I've come to realize the futility of asking "where" because one, I would have no idea anyway (this being my first time in Thailand) and two, I simply would not understand what they were saying. So the easy answer has always been "sure!" And that response has taken me to two absolutely fascinating and beautiful places-- Phi Mi and Phra Chedi Mongkol.

Phi Mi is a gorgeous, old Khmer-style temple ruin in the province of Korat and Phra Chedi Mongkol is this giant chedi/pagoda within an impressive temple complex located in my very own province (future visitors, if you are interested, we can arrange for a visit.)

On each of these trips I had no idea where they were taking me but, as so often happens in Thailand, they turned out to be pleasant surprises!

The pictures: 1st three are from Phi Mi, the rest are from Chedi Mongkol

No bomb that ever burned/ Shatters the human spirit

2007-04-12T10:47:00.000+07:00

Since I've started writing about my experiences in Thailand, I have learned to appreciate the writing of other people who, like me, are also away from home and their loved ones. And while I am aware that words can never fully capture the experience of living in a foreign country under circumstances different from home, I'd like to think that the stories we share--through blogs, emails, and letters--provide a decent enough picture of the lives we lead. After all, I believe that the main reason we share our stories in the first place is so our loved ones, those we have left behind, get to stay connected to us--even in only through our writing.

It is this belief I think that stirred my emotions when I came across NEWSWEEKS' April 2nd cover story, Voices of the Fallen: The Iraq War in the Words of America's Dead.

Over the past three months, I have written about my life in Thailand, of squat toilets and bucket showers; of language miscommunications and exotic dishes. I have written about being a Peace Corps Volunteer--an experience that has been among the most intense experiences of my life. Recently, I read the letters in Newsweek, written by men and women, many younger than myself who, like me, are far away from home and loved ones and who, like me, are also experiencing some pretty intense things. And while I could relate to the homesickness and the desire to stay connected with loved ones through writing, and while I could understand what it's like to miss home, I realized that I would NEVER understand the intensity of what they were going through. Never.

But I tried to anyway. I tried thinking of what I go through on a daily basis and I attempted to magnify it if only to gain some perspective and understand what the soldiers were going though a little better. In the end, I realized it was impossible.

My single greatest daily fear is that my neighbor's dog will chase me as I bike past his house... a fear miniscule in comparison to the risk of snipers and IED's.

My single greatest discomfort is the heat of Thailand and the humidity that comes with living in a tropical country. I'm not sure what the heat is like in Iraq but I know it's pretty hot. Plus our troops can go weeks without a shower while carrying loads of heavy equipment.

I worry about the sanitation of my food. But I don't have to worry about fighting a battle with an upset stomach.

I wake up in the morning and say that "today may be the day that the language breakthrough occurs." Our troops wake up with the awareness that--as American soldier Travis Youngblood wrote in a letter--"any day I'm here could be the day I die."

"Nope," I told myself, "I would never understand what they went through and I will never understand what the other troops are going through right now."

And so I kept reading about the horrible situation people my age are going through and I read about the causes of death (humvee overturned, IED explosion, drowned, killed by sniper while on patrol) and I read about the ages of those killed (21,19, 26, 22, 21) and I found myself in tears.

As I said earlier, I have learned to appreciate the writing of people far away from home. More importantly, I learned to appreciate the writers themselves. People have a general idea of the Peace Corps and what life as a voulunteer is like. I did too. But now, as I read through blogs, I am aware that every volunteer has a name and his/her own unique experiences. Every single volunteer has people he/she misses and people he/she wishes to stay connected to. As I read the letters in Newsweek, I felt the exact same way for our troops. While I have always been supportive of our soldiers and have included them in my prayers, I always thought of them collectively. Reading their letters and recognizing the common desire to simply stay connected, the desire to let a loved one know they are missed, the desire to check on things at home, made me realize how each troop is an individual as well with his/her own set of unique experiences. It made me realize how human each troop is.

So while I may never understand what they are going through, I can certainly focus on what we share--our humanity and our love for the people we left behind. And just as I drew on my experiences here in an attempt to gain perspective into the difficulties they were going through, perhaps I could do the same in terms of their joys. For as my struggles and worries are petty compared to what they face, perhaps the things that bring me joy are things they appreciate even more. And the thing that has brought me the most joy--other than the work I am doing in my village--has been hearing from home. Nothing brightens my day more than a phone call from my family or a letter from Caitlin or a Facebook message from an old friend. And if these things can make a person who worries about being chased by dogs smile, imagine what it can do for people surrounded by the horrors of war.

Every so often, I also receive random words of encouragement. I've had people tell me that what I'm doing is something they wish they cold be doing. I've had people tell me that they are very impressed that I would choose to give two years of my life to do such work. These things definitely help keep my spirit alive. I wonder if our troops receive similar messages as well? I sure hope so because what I am doing and whatever sacrifices I'm making is nothing compared to theirs.

So now a favor. If any of you reading this happen to know someone in the armed forces, please send them a message. Be it a cousin, a friend, an acquaintance even...send them a message. Send a message out of the blue to say hello and that you are thinking of them. If possible, even send me an email address of a soldier you know and I will say hello as well.

And also, let us not take things for granted. As I read the letters, I could not stop thinking about the people I loved the most. These letters celebrated how human our troops were and what makes us human is that we are capable of loving. No matter how horrible the situation described in the letter, they did not fail to end it with a "I miss you" or an "I love you. "

I end this with some stanzas from Orwell taken from his essay "Looking Back On the Spanish War" I altered it a bit and the alterations are in italics.

Good luck go with you American soldier
But luck is not for the brave
What would the world give back to you
Any less than than you gave

Between the shadow and the ghost
Between the white and the red
Between the bullet and the lie
WHere would you hide your head

For where is Travis Youngblood
For where is Kenneth Ballard
For where is Trevor Aston
The earthworms know where they are

Your name and your deeds were forgotten
Before your bones were dry
And the lie that slew you is buried
Under a deeper lie

But the one thing I saw in your letters
No power can disinherit
No bomb that ever burned
Shatters the human spirit.

Thailand--Where Dreams Come True

2007-04-09T13:49:00.000+07:00

In Thailand, dreams come true.

No, I'm not talking about the dreams that lead men to the seedier parts of Bangkok (thoughI've heard those dreams come true as well.)

I'm talking about those dreams innate in every person. Those dreams everyone carries around in their heart of hearts--to be a Broadway performer and a dominant basketball player. Anyone who says they never had these dreams is lying. Well okay, fine...not everyone has those dreams. In fact, not too many people have these dreams. But I do! And, in these past three months, I have made them happen.

Granted singing the Hokie Pokie in a classroom in rural Thailand isn't exactly like singing "On My Own" on the Broadhurst but after seeing the reaction of the Thai kids to the Hokie Pokie, damnit if they are not comparable!

And while I will never be Greg Oden, Kobe, or Shaq, the sheer manner by which I dominated the basketball court yesterday afternoon puts me right up there with the greats. Who cares that I played against 12 year old girls who have never played basketball before and only gave it a shot because the foreigner was playing? Did anyone give Jordan a hard time for playing against mere mortals? I think not.

So yes, I am a gifted performer and yes, I'm dominant in the basketball court. I can now check those two things off my life's to-do-list. And after two more years, I'm confident that I will check even more items from the list. Why? I'm in Thailand baby! Where dreams come true!

*On a more serious note, I did dream about doing something meaningful and exciting after college graduation--something that would allow me to travel and learn more about the world. My experiences thus far in Thailand as a Peace Corps Volunteer have satisfied that dream and then some.

"I love you...you funny man!"

2007-04-02T10:13:00.000+07:00

"I love you!"
"Excuse me?"
"I love you!"

Great. Three months of intense pre-service training, countless hours of language learning, several sessions on cross cultural adjustment and a TEN week homestay and my first major test as a Peace Corps volunteer is this: my principal just told me he loved me.

"Mai kao jai," I say, " I don't understand"

My principal, a jolly man of 45 looks at me, not understanding why his new volunteer from the United States who is supposed to train his teachers how to teach English can not seem to understand a simple sentence. He tries again, this time slowly, "I...love...you"

"Okay," I think to myself, "my principal loves me." I mean he's known me for what, 2 days now...it's weird but I guess it's better than him hating me.

"You love me?" I ask him
"Yes, I love you..you a funny man!"

"Well that's shallow," I find myself thinking, "I mean, yeah I can be funny some times but to love me for..." And that's when it hit me! An opening...a possibility that this rather uncomfortable situation might simply be a misunderstanding...I go for it:

"You...laugh me?"
"Yes!" he says, not understanding why I am asking him again.
"Laugh? like (I put my hand on my belly) ha! ha! ha! laugh?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Oh! So you laugh at me"
"Yes! I love at you!"

He is happy that I am now getting it.
I am RELIEVED that I am getting it.

"Put an 'f' sound" I tell him, "say 'fffffffff' "
" 'fffffff' "
"Now say it, Laugh fffffffffff"
"Love fffffffff"

This will be a fun 2 years.

Who knows, maybe now he laughs at me but after 2 years he might actually love me.

Or maybe not. :-)

It's Official...I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer!!!

2007-03-28T15:39:00.000+07:00

On March 23rd, it all finally made sense. Not that it didn't to begin with. But whatever "what in the world am I doing?" moments I've had over the past three months...forget them... because now, I AM A PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER!!! Yup, after three months of language training, and sessions, and flip chart papers, and cross cultural training, and medical training, and more sessions, and techincal training, and bike riding, and more sessions...I, Antonio Eduardo Reyes Taruc, am now an official Peace Corps Volunteer!

Peace Corps Thailand Group 119 had our official swearing in ceremony 5 days ago, on the 23rd of March at the Thai Hyatt Erawan and what a ceremony it was! Not only was the ceremony to swear-in the new volunteers but it was also to celebrate 45 years of strong partnership between Thailand and the Peace Corps. Former Peace Corps volunteers flew in from all over to attend and that made the event all the more memorable. There were a couple of amabassadors around (one of which was a former Peace Corps Thailand volunteer) and so was the foreign minister of Thailand (who told us, in a speech, that he first learned English from a Peace Corps volunteer back in the day.) The Crown Princess of Thailand was the guest of honor and let me tell you, here in Thailand, having royalty attend any function is a HUGE deal.

Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures during the ceremony (Thai palace regulations) but it was a beautiful ceremony with wonderful speeches--all short and sweet. The man of the hour however, had to be my fellow group 119er, Scott, who literally blew everyone away with his Thai speech. Even the princess, who had just flown in from Cairo and was very tired (yet was gracious enough to attend), was impressed. EVERYONE was. People in Thailand wonder whether I am truly American because of how I look. I think after his speech, people should wonder whether Scott is actually Thai!

Anyhow, it was a fun affair and it's great to be official! (Which of course means I now have 2 years of hard work ahead!) Here are some pre-ceremony pics. Enjoy!

With K. Rumpai, our most excellent Training ManagerSadie, myself, and Bekah--Best Language Class Ever!With my principal and one of my co-teachersWith Garrett and Peter

Last Day in Sa Kaeo

2007-03-28T11:29:00.000+07:00

My last day in Sa Kaeo was a busy one. Not only did I have to say good bye to the family I lived with for 10 weeks but I also had my Language Proficiency Test with the Peace Corps in the morning and the Thank You Party at night. For the Thank You party, I was in charge of the slide show and I was involved with the Isan traditional dance. Somehow, I also got asked to be one of the flag bearers for the Northern traditional dance! Needless to say, it was a long day. But it was a memorable one as well!

The day started off with some people from my community coming over to my house. I wasn't sure what was going on and I thought they were all over for some sort of festival (there's always a festival going on in Thailand.) As I was packing my stuff, I noticed that they were all just sitting around and all seemed to be waiting. After a while, I realized that they were waiting for me to stop packing so they could say goodbye! So I finished up pretty quickly and soon, I had everyone in the house coming over and tying pieces of string around my wrist. I'm not sure what they are called exactly but I like to think of them as "blessing" strings. As each person ties the string, they give you words of well wishes. It was all done in Thai so I didn't fully understand but I could pick up on a few words. Despite the lack of communication, it was very touching. I was glad that Ahm, my little buddy from the village (whose face is always powdered white), was present to tie a string on my wrist as well (though after a few minutes, his grandmother had to help him out with the knot.)

I gave a little thank you speech in Thai that they all enjoyed--more for the funny accent than for the content--and I was off to the hubsite for my language exam. My exam was actually not till 10:00 AM so I got to check in the hotel early and enjoy the AC and a nice shower! I was hoping to do some final review but ended up hanging around and talking with a couple of trainees.

Surprisingly, when the time came for my interview, I wasn't nervous at all. The lady interviewing me was very nice and before I knew it, my 30 minutes were up! I took that as a good sign though I did butcher a part of the interview when, in a lack of concentration, I answered "yes" to the question, "do you help around the house?" Answering "yes" led to more follow up questions on the subject and with my limited Thai vocabulary, I ended up saying I helped cook meals during my stay with the host family. Of course, she asked me what exactly I could cook so I just blurted out one of my favorite dishes--Tom Yum (Thai soup) And of course she asked me to explain the process of making Tom Yum. I probably would have pulled it off had I not forgotten the word for "boil." To make things worse, in a desperate attempt to explain the process, I started making bubbling noises with my mouth while using my fingers to give a visual representation of what boiling water looks like. Not a good idea. But ey, the rest of the interview went well and, as an affirmation that the world we live in is indeed very, very small, I found out that my interviewer was actually the debate team trainer of a friend of mine from Thailand who I met 6 years ago in Japan! And we found all these out while speaking in Thai! Craziness!

After the interview, the Isan dancers had a final run through of our presentation. We had a few drinks for lunch (it was St. Patrick's day after all) and that made the practice pretty entertaining. It was also the first beer I had in about a month because of all the medication I was taking for my asthma. Frank-the-Tank had it so right when he said, "It tastes so good! The moment it touches your lips, it tastes so good!"

The party that night was held in the provincial hall which felt strange because that was the very first building we set foot on in Sa Kaeo. It was also where we met our host families for the first time so there was a definitely a bittersweet feel to the party. We were all excited to be moving on to the next phase of our journey but at the same time, there was a sadness about syaing goodbye to our "home" in Thailand. Nevertheless, we all had a good time and, believe it or not, the Isan dancers did a GREAT job! I know the Northern dancers and the American dancers won't believe me but a couple of staff came up to say they enjoyed the Isan dance the most. I just won't name names :-)

After all the ceremonies--which included a couple of speeches from some trainess (in Thai!), a dance train, and a lot of certificates--it was time for our final good byes. I don't ever recall seeing emotion from my host parents (or from any Thai person for that matter) but as she said goodbye, my mom just grabbed me and started bawling! It was actually the first hug I have ever seen aThai person give or receive (Thai people don't even shake hands--they wai) and it caught me by surprise. My dad wasn't doing much better as he had tears in his eyes. The sudden outburst of emotion startled me and I'll admit I got choked up a bit. But such is life and as I walked them to their car and said thank you for everything, I found myself in a good place emotionally and mentally. I was sad, yes... but at the same time I was also very excited about everything that I had just accomplished. It's not easy living with a family you just met for 10 weeks (especially if you don't speak the language) but somehow, with alot of patience and A LOT of openmindedness, I survived...thrived even. It was a very enriching experience and definitely one of the best aspects of pre-service training. The whole experience was something I doubt I will ever forget.

On a funny note: my host parents have called me every other day since I have left Sa Kaeo. Our conversations always revolve around the same things--whether I have eaten yet (and if so, what did I have to eat) and if I feel hot.

Khrup khrua kong pom

Monkey Mountain

2007-03-27T08:58:00.000+07:00

On my last Sunday in Sa Kaeo, my host family finally decided to take me on a trip to MonkeyMountain. I had heard stories from several volunteers about the mountain and I was excited to experience it for myself. We also passed it on our way to Chanaburi for the AIDS conference about a month earlier and the mountain's distinctive outline--a steep slope between two peaks--made quite the impression on me.

Since Tara's family was related to mine, my host parents invited her, her mom, and her little niece as well. So we set off at 8:45 AM (just a little off our original planned time of 8:00...45 minutes late is pretty impressive for Thai time) and 30 minutes later, we could see the mountain.
We were greeted by a huge monkey statue upon arrival and further on the path, we were greeted by what seemed like a thousand monkeys! I knew that we would see monkeys but I did not imagine anything quite like this: Monkeys ran up to you expecting food, monkeys chased each other under and over parked trucks, monkeys fell from trees and landed next to you...monkeys EVERYWHERE!

There were stalls set up that sold peanuts and bananas for visitors to feed the monkeys and pretty soon, Tara and I found ourselves between packs of monkeys either throwing food at them or having them come over to get it themselves. It was pretty cool holding the food in your hands and having the monkeys actually walk up to you and grab the food. Their appetites were pretty amazing. Several monkeys--among them a mother with her baby clinging to her belly-- wrestled eachother for the bananas.

The highlight of the trip however, was a climb up the side of the mountain unto a cave. My ashtma was bothering me earlier that day but I just could not resist climbing the stairs up to the cave. At that point, I didn't even know what lay inside but from the ground, it looked pretty cool. Inside the cave, was quite a pleasant surprise. At the very entrance, a couple of golden Buddha images were there for blessings upon visitors. There was a monk as well though I wasn't sure if the monk actually lived there.

Further up, for those brave enough, were some wooden stairs that didn't look all that secure. Tara and I saw a couple of people on it though so we figured it was safe. Turns out, it wasn't the stairs that we should have been worried about but the monkeys! At the bottom of the mountain, the monkeys were used to seeing people and while they were agressive in their search for food, they did a good job of not getting "too"close to the visitors. Up the mountain however, it was a different situation. I saw a monkey pull on the sleeve of a little kid and it would have bitten the kid on the arm had the child's mother not screamed and taken a swing at the aggressive little primate with her purse. Tara got attacked on her leg and I had a monkey go for my arm. Fortunately, we did not get bit but it was a little scary (The movie, "Outbreak" came to mind several times) The view from the top, however, was worth the scene with the little buggers. At the very top was a sitting Buddha overlooking what seemed like all of Sa Kaeo. It was great just sitting there enjoying a breather after the climb and the wild monkeys--very peaceful.

After a while, we started heading down and while the serenity of sitting atop the mountain with the Buddha lingered, a couple of monkeys attempted to shatter the peace once more. Thankfully, Tara found that she had a few peanuts in her purse and we used them as decoys, throwing them to the side and making our escape as the monkeys greedily went for their food.

When we got back to the bottom, we met a monk who lived inside a cave and he gave all of us a few well-wishes. We hung out for a little bit longer in the park (I got to take a picture of a monkey taking a late morning siesta) before heading home. It was a fun "Bai-tiao" (excursion) and I'm definitely glad I got to experience Monkey Mountain.

Tara hiking up to the cave My host mom close to the topThe sillouhette of the BuddhaInside the Monk's home within the cave (check out the television and the fridge)The outside of the monk's homeSiestaGood way to spend a last Sunday with the folks

Best week Yet

2007-02-23T21:27:00.000+07:00

Standing at the very edge of Thailand. You can see Laos!

I wasn't looking forward to the trip. At the time, I blamed it on an upset stomach and a nagging fever. In hindsight, I know it was mainly because I was annoyed at my site placement. That I had to add a 12 hour trip to another province I did not care for before visiting the province I did not want to be in in the first place only compounded things (hindsight also shows me how ridiculously absurd my reasoning was and how bratty I was acting. I had never been to Thailand and yet, somehow, I could actually decide what provinces I cared for and which ones I didn't? I should have had someone punch me on the spot)

But I went (with a heavy heart) and now I'm back in Sa Kaeo and all I can really say is:THIS WAS THE BEST WEEK THUS FAR OF MY YOUNG PEACE CORPS CAREER.

I got a glimpse of a day in the life of a Peace Corps volunteer; I had a beer and french fries by the Mekong; I stood between two countries...literally; I was a source of bewilderment for the people of rural Thailand (see my post, "But you are Asian"); I hung out with a mayor who offered to drive me to mass every Sunday; I got in a car with Heineken loving school principals; saw things sold in a market that I hope I will never have to eat; stood beside one of the tallest Buddha statues in the world; had a sundae that took 3 people 3 minutes to make, and I fell in love with the village that I will call home for the next 2 years (see post, "Love at First Site")

And oh yeah, I had a fun night in Bangkok with my friends to kick off the week! We should all be so lucky.

Live baby frogs in the marketDriving laws are not too strict in ThailandWith baby Fifa (his dad is a huge soccer fan)Brian's house. He's a volunteer who has been in Thailand for a year.Brian and I had to leave his village early coz there was only one bus that left. This is at 5 AMI thought I would regret ordering this sundae since no one seemed to know how to make it (I picked it out from a picture in the menu) But voila, 3 minutes later (and alot of frantic talking in the phone) the 3 people working on it met some success.A cheers to Laos!French fries never tasted so good. And they actually had ketchup!I'm standing on the Mekong river ( a dried up part of it anyway) between 2 countries! Surreal.Some college kids taking advantage of the dry season and drinking right on the Mekong.One of the tallest Buddha statues in the world!

Love at First "Site"

2007-02-23T21:18:00.000+07:00

Two things stuck out as we drove into the province of Roi Et: It suddenly became hotter and it was a bit greener than what I had seen during my 6 hour bus ride from Nakhom Phanom. But there was nothing extra special that stuck out. Nothing that made me feel all warm and fuzzy about spending the next 2 years of my life in this province. Motorcycles made their ways through a busy crowd of people as stray, malnourished dogs either napped or wrestled each other to the ground. Monks, in their saffron colored robes sipped on fantas by little eateries on the side of the road. "This is it", I thought to myself, "the closest thing to a major city I will have over the next two years...whoopee!"

That Roi Et had one of the biggest Buddha images inthe world and a pretty lake in the city center did help but I knew I did not have much to work with. That is until we hit the actual village that I would call home for the next 2 years.

Cattle walked around leisurely as an old man in a straw hat led them though little dirt roads between old homes. Mothers and grandmothers sat by patches of grass talking as their children and grandchildren ran around chasing baby chickens. The men of the village sat by wooden benches sharing a communal glass of Thai whisky mixed with "soda water." Three eight year old boys on one motorcycle passed by waving to their friends who were kicking a basketball around, dribbling a volleyball and using a soccer ball as a chair.A middle aged lady, face wrapped in a ski mask (it was only 90 degrees after all) carried a basket of string beans and young girls, in their school uniforms, walked home under the watchful eyes of the older ladies. All the while, a shirtless grandmother lay, her breasts sagging beside her, on a bamboo bed outside a dilapidated shack.

And I fell in love.

I'm pretty sure it wasn't with the shirtless grandma, or with the fact that neither the basketball, volleyvball, or soccer ball were used correctly, or with the lady who thought suffering in the heat was a price worth paying to avoid getting a few shades darker.

I did not fall in love with the dung dropping cattle or the chicken chasing babies.

I fell in love with all of them together-- this great hodgepodge of activity that made up life in my little village.

I know love is such a stong word and can easily be used in place of infatuation but as the car pulled into the village, I just knew that I was entering something special. The feelings of unease (and to some extent, bitterness) that I originally felt at being placed in this province did not just disappear but rather, evolved into a feeling of this is the right place for me. I guess it's akin to the feeling one gets upon visiting a college or university for the first time and just knowing that it is the right place to be in for the next 4 (in some cases, 5) years of one's life.

When I got out of the car, my host family walked me around and I was amazed even more. There was a beautiful lake in the middle of the village right beside an old wat. I was told that there were old Khmer ruins around and that this town itself was a Khmer sanctuary dating back to the 11th century (I got to see the ruins a few days later and I was like a kid in a candy store!). We walked to the market where many of my future students were hanging out, playing tag and sipping on iced fruit drinks. Everyone was just so friendly and the energy about the village was amazing. I have about one more month of training and I know I will miss Sa Kaeo and the host family I have lived with for the past month and a half. I know I will miss being close in proximity to all the other trainees but I also know that when I leave Sa Kaeo and move to Roi Et, that a beautiful little village waits for me and I look forward to calling it home.

"But you are Asian"

2007-02-23T13:29:00.000+07:00

Thailand has beffudled, confused, perplexed and flabbergasted me many a time during this past month. But I guess such feelings are to be expected when one is immersing oneself in a new culture. What is funny is that in this past week, during my site visit, I have had some payback. In this one week, I have caused jaws to drop and heads to turn. Because of me, people have gone speechless and I have seen more people scratch their heads in 7 days than I have in my whole life. I have beffudled, confused, perplexed, and flabbergasted so many people from rural Thailand and their beffudlement, confusion, perplexedness (is that even a word?) and flabbergastedness (I am creating new words as I go) have manifested themselves in these 4 words: BUT YOU ARE ASIAN

Yes, I am Asian. Filipino, to be exact. But I am also American and I've spent the past 5 years of my life living in California and while I am very Filipino, I am also very Californian. I also happen to be a Peace Corps volunteer which means I sort of work for the United States Government. None of what I wrote above would be a source of confusion for people living in the United States or for anyone who has had experience with American diversity. But for the people of rural Thailand, I am an anomaly!
To the people of rural Thailand, I am:

a "farang" who does not have blond hair or blue eyes.

an Asian looking man (they all think I am Thai...or Chinese...or Japanese...or Korean) who does not speak Thai, Chinese, Japanese, or Korean.

an English speaking Asian looking man who wears farang clothes who does not speak Thai but loves rice but does not drink beer out of a straw.

a Farang who looks like a Thai man because I am darker than a white man but I am also lighter skinned than a Thai man so therefore I am Chinese but I speak English so therefore I am American but I have black hair (not blond) so I am Thai but I am......

You get the picture.

Traditionally, the only contact people from very rural Thailand have had with farangs have been with the older white men who have married women from their villages. So when they heard that they would be receiving a visitor from the United States, I can only imagine the images that danced in their heads--tall, white skin, blond hair, blue eyes...

And of course they got me!

And thus the ensuing confusion (and the fun of it all):

Brian, a current serving volunteer who hosted me for 2 days was called a liar by a person in his village for introducing me as an American; Brian's principal was little more polite and did a decent job of masking his disbelief; the person who met me in the bus station at my village told me I did not look American; I heard "mungkan kon Thai" (same as Thai) echo through the mouths of my city hall's staff when I arrived to meet the mayor; and the supervisor of my Education Service Area Office gave me the "I have a meeting with an American in a couple of minutes, what can I do for you?" look.

I once heard the Peace Corps experience described as being akin to putting on a big, purple bunny suit and dancing up to people telling them you are there to help. Being an Asian American volunteer in rural in Thailand is like putting on the big, purple, bunny suit and dancing up to people as well...only that all the other people are also wearing big, purple, bunny suits and dancing. The difference is that while they are doing the Macarena, you are doing the Roger Rabbit.

Another current volunteer who is also Asian American and has been in Thailand for one year told me that the situation has been difficult for him and at times, has even caused him to be bitter. This past week has shown me where the bitterness can come in--its never easy seeing people get diasppointed because of the color of your skin--but its also shown me how, with a good sense of humor, the situation can be a source of great stories.
The looks of confusion that replaced the original looks of doubt when I started introducing myself in English were priceless. Even funnier was how amazed the Thais were when I took off my watch and they saw the difference between my skin tones (biking 20 k a day under the sun for a month will make you dark!) And when I showed them my legs--which are as pasty a white as any other legs you will ever see--I had the Thai people doubled up and rolling in laughter.

So while the disappointed and doubting faces can be difficult to deal with at first, the idea of being able to educate people about the diversity that exists in this world (and the fun that comes out of it) can be such a great experience. Plus, as I spent more time in my village and laughed and joked around with the people, I sensed the happiness they had with their new visitor...even if I wasn't what they had expected in the first place.

Site Placement

2007-02-14T16:44:00.000+07:00

*Alot of time has passed since site placement and I've since been able to read up on my site and visit it. I am actually very excited to begin working in my community and I think it is the perfect fit for me. But for whatever it's worth, I thought I'd post this little entry I wrote right after site placement anyway. Looking back, it's pretty funny seeing how I felt that day.

It could have been the 4 Am wake up calls by my community rooster, or the head-splitting Thai language lessons, or maybe all the Thai beer I've consumed, or maybe a combination of all these things but for whatever reason, I actually believed--expected even--that I would live either in a beach resort, a mountain villa, or close enough to Bangkok for the duration of my 2 years as a Peace Corps volunteer. Well, I exaggerate. I was well aware that the Peace Corps life would not be a posh vacation nor would it be defined by my actual site placement (the slogan "it's about the people and not the landscape" danced in my mind) but a big part of me did want to be placed either in the South, Central Plains or the North of Thailand so when I needed a little break from it all, the beach, Bangkok, or the mountains weren't too far away. The one place I was NOT too keen about being placed in was Isan, the North East region of Thailand. Why I did not want to be placed there, I don't even know but somehow, everything I had heard about Isan was exactly what one of the 3 other places was not: it was hot (the north of Thailand was supposed to have better weather coz of the mountains) it was dry and the scenery wasn't too exciting (again the north would be better in this department plus the south had all the pretty beaches) and it wasn't close to the two major cities everyone talked about (placement in the central region of Thailand would mean frequent trips to Bangkok while Changmai was the place to be in the North)

So of course site placement day comes around and everyone is anxious to hear where the next 2 years of our lives will be spent. I spent the previous day turning the wonderful Thai phrases "Aray Gaday" (whatever) and "Mai Bpen Rai" (its all ok) into a personal mantra (though I definitely had my wish list). We walk into the room and there is a giant outline of Thailand on the floor. Beginning with the South and moving up, various provinces are called out along with the names of the lucky (though lucky in this case was very relative) volunteers.

"The South..." I'm all excited....
"Tina! Vince! Guy!" Nope, no mention of my name. Its ok. I'm ready for Bangkok.
"Central!..." Here we go baby, good times in Bangkok.
"Sheila, Jeremy" Still no Anton. Mai Bpen Rai. The North was my first choice anyway. Bangkok is a bit too polluted.
"North!..." Oh yeah, I'll be busting out the hoodie.
"8 volunteers by ChangMai province...." oh boy, mountains, waterfalls, occasional trips to old hill tribes
"Garret, Mike,......... Gabe!" Still no Anton. At this point my heart starts to sink a bit. But its ok. Nan is still up north. Ill need a sweater along with my hoodie. Plus the waterfalls are beautiful I've been told.
"Tara, John" Omg, this is not good.

We move south again but this time in the east.

"Chantaburi!..." We were just there for the AIDS conference. It was beautiful. I didnt even know some people would be placed there. This is it!
"Only one volunteer in Chantaburi..." It's me! it's me!
"Melissa!" No way!

Now we start moving up entering into Isan territory.

"PraChanaburri!" That's close to Sa Kaeo where we currently are. I like Sa Kaeo. I've become close to my host family. Sa Kaeo would be a nice place to chill during the weekends. Maybe visit my family for home cooked meals.
"Sadie, Juliana!" There goes my home cooked meals.
"Surin!..." Surin has elephants. I could use their ears for shade or as a giant fan! I want Surin!
"Maria!" At this point i didnt even want to hear my name.

And so of course...

"Roi Et!..." She is smiling at me...
"Anton" Oh boy...

So of course I walk over to my spot in the map and there, right smack in the middle of Isan, far away from the south, far away from the north, and a decent distance from Bangkok is the beating heart of Isan: Roi Et. I muttered Mai Bpen Rai and Aray Gaday a couple of times under my breath but I knew I did not feel okay. In fact I was a little frustrated...annoyed even. I looked around me and saw people huddled together in their provinces, all fairly close to one another and there I was in Roi Et, the only volunteer in my province. A bunch of us had joked around earlier that site placement day should be called Black Tuesday. It most definitely felt that way for me...

Fun in the Sun

2007-02-11T10:38:00.000+07:00

On Friday, we all headed south to Chantaburi province for an AIDS conference. While Peace Corps Thailand does not have a specific project for AIDS work, volunteers are encouraged to involve themselves with projects related to AIDS education and outreach. While I still have much to learn about the technical aspects of such work, I definitely am interested in doing related projects and I will make it a point to find resources to increase my education on the subject. I learned alot over the weekend about the AIDS situation in the country and about sex and gender issues specific to Thailand which will come in handy as I look into what I can do to help my future community. I'm sure I'll be writing more on this as I begin my actual work in site.

The rest of the weekend was a great chance to spend some quality time with each other (since were pretty much half way through training and our time together as a big group is limited) and just enjoy being in the beach. Highlight of the weekend was the first ever Peace Corps Thailand "Coco Bowl" where a bunch of us played American Football in the water using a coconut for a football. I'll post the pictures from the game as soon as I get them from Garret's camera. Here are some pics from the beach!

Mangrove Forrest

Before heading back to Sa Kaeo, we stopped by a Royal Thai Government Project. His Majesty, the King of Thailand has started some pretty awesome development projects for the people of Thailand and we got to visit one of the projects aimed at providing economic development to a fishing/prawn farming community. SInce time was limited, we did not get to see the actual prawn farms (though we had great sea food for lunch) but we got to talk around the mangrove forrest.

Jam Night at the Jam House

2007-02-11T10:05:00.000+07:00

This past week was one of the more intense weeks of training. We had our mock language proficiency interviews last Thursday and alot of preparation was done for that. Plus I think we've all moved past the "honeymoon" stage of being in Thailand and have started experiencing the initial stages of culture shock...and the frustration of still not being able to fully communicate with our host families. The weather this past week has also been pretty rough--the previous weeks were actually pretty nice and cold-- but this last week was HOT. I got sick and I know a couple of the other trainees weren't feeling too well either.

Because we were heading to another province the next day for an AIDS conference, we got to stay in the hotel on Thursday night after our interviews. Most of us headed to this local place called the Jam House and it was exactly what we needed! Drinks; good, lighthearted conversation (because we've been divided into smaller groups for language, hub nights are the only time we all get to be together and catch up); and ALOT of dancing and singing. It was the perfect way to cap an intense, busy week and kick off the weekend! Peter, Garret and AntonEj, John, Sheila, Tara and MelanieSinging "We are the Champions"Still singing "We are the Champions"Y-M-C-ASome happy (and fairly "tipsy") volunteers

Pangsida Park

2007-02-07T16:06:00.000+07:00

Two Saturdays ago, the trainees got to take a break and enjoy "Sports Day" at Pangsida National park. We were divided up into teams and played games in the morning and in the afternoon, we all got to go on a little nature walk. Fun times! The Red Team--we rocked!
Collin, James and I by the top of the waterfall

The Jungle Taking a break

Rehydrating after a long day

Bath Time Reflection #1

2007-02-01T16:56:00.000+07:00

Some people think most clearly when going for a hike, or meditating in a temple, or during a nice long drive. I think most clearly when I am in the shower. It hasn't been so easy however in Thailand, since its kindda hard to relax and let your mind wander during a cold bucket shower. But last night I had a sudden thought and I just ran away with it. And its funny because the thing that inspired it was the very thing that has made my bath time reflections a little more challenging: the bucket shower.

The Peace Corps is like a bucket shower.
You are hot and sticky and know that a bucket shower is something you want.
It gets to a point that you know it is something you NEED
and you know it would refresh you in the
way you want and need to be refreshed.
Some people just jump right in.
Some people decide that while its a good idea, they'll wait for the nice warm shower
that SHOULD come one day. After all, there is always deoderant.
Some decide to bend over and just wet their hair...it will make them look like they took the shower.
For those who do decide to take the shower, it usually takes a process.
First, you wet your hair a bit
Splash some water on your feet
Pat your back a little bit with wet hands and maybe your neck
Put some water behind the knees
Just getting ready...for the big one.
And finally, you jump right in!
You take a huge scoop of water and BAM!...you let it just drop on you.
At that moment, time seems to stop. Your heart beats faster and faster. You are freezing!
You are already wet so you figure, "what the heck" and BAM, another big one and yet another.
You'd figure three big ones in that it should feel easier and alot less cold but no...
each one still sets you shivering.
Then another one and another one....
and you begin to feel the difference...
Its NOT necessarily less cold nor is it easier but you feel GOOD and you feel more AWAKE and more FRESH.
You start lathering up the soap and rubbing the shampoo on your hair and at this point you know you are almost done.
Maybe at this time you actually look at the water and notice that its not the cleanest water in the world.
A few bugs floating around...maybe a few strands of hair that clearly are not yours...and it can be pretty gross.
You know you could stop there...maybe throw one more bucket or two to wash out the soap and shampoo.
Or, you could choose to realize that millions of people bathe in even dirtier water.
You could realize that millions of people don't even get the chance to take a bucket shower.
You could realize that millions of people who DO have the opportunity for a bucket shower decide to stick to the deodorant.
And when you think this way, you might realize that while bugs and hair in the water kindda suck, they won't kill you (and you also sort of begin to admit to yourself that the water feels pretty damn good)
So you throw in another one and now the soap and shampoo are gone and you could end the shower but now you REALLY like the water--you like how ALIVE each new splash makes you feel so you throw a few more before finally reaching for the towel.
As you dry yourself, you realize the shower actually went by so quickly.
You probably spent more time getting ready for the first big splash than you did the entire shower.
And as you dry off you can't stop noticing how refreshed you feel.
And while deoderant may have made you smell just as nice without having to go through the shower...YOU KNOW IT WOULD NOT HAVE FELT QUITE AS GOOD.

My Brother, the Monk

2007-01-28T13:02:00.000+07:00

My host brother became a monk this weekend and the 2 day ceremony to celebrate his becoming a monk was a feast for the senses. Spices filled the air as enough food for 700 people was prepared. Beautiful chanting resonated from the temple and rock music blared as the dancing spilled unto the streets. But the biggest treat of all was reserved for the eyes. This weekend was a vast array of images: the older women of the village making a Baysi; the younger women getting up as early as 4:00 AM to begin preparing the feast; a community taking turns cutting a young man's hair and an older monk finishing it off; a mother praying for her child and a relative being moved to tears; family members proudly carrying the monk-to-be on their shoulders; and a young monk, under the watchful eyes of his elders, donning the robe.

I was very fortunate to witness such a beautiful cultural experience and I'd like to share the pictures. It was such a joy taking them (my camera has this beautiful feature that allowed me to isolate certain colors) and I hope you all enjoy! If you'd like to see more pictures from the ceremony, check out http://ataruc.multiply.com and click on photos

Its all about...the Hokie Pokie!!!

2007-01-26T17:22:00.000+07:00

Yesterday, we had a couple of current Peace Corps volunteers share about their experience in Thailand. They were a wonderful older married couple with alot of experience teaching back in the US and have been teaching in Thailand for a year. It was a great presentation and they outlined the best reasons for teaching in Thailand. One of them was "Beer is served in School" Apparently, beer over lunch is a common thing for Thai teachers. How awesome is that?

The number one reason they gave however (as if the beer wasn't enough) was the students. And at first I thought it was a bit cheesy but as I reflect on the past few days here, I have to agree. I've met some of the nicest kids in my language school and today was my first day of teaching in another school. So I've been to two school and the kids in both have been great! Plus... they all enjoy my singing (I am a horrible singer) I've introduced the Hokie Pokie as a way to teach "right" and "left" and they ABSOLUTELY love it. Even kids from the other classes would run over to check it out. For 2 glorious minutes, I felt like a pop star.

Thai Night

2007-01-26T16:56:00.000+07:00

Last Monday we had Thai night where we all got to hang out and have some traditional Thai food and just have fun! We were asked to prepare a presentation and a group of us figured that since we had been learning so much about Thai culture from our teachers, we could switch things around and show them some stuff from America. So we each grabbed a teacher and taught them an "American" dance step (I taught mine the Roger Rabbit...she did it amazingly!) After teaching them, we all gathered in a huge circle and started yelling "Go Ajan, Go Ajan" (Ajan is teacher) and they each had to jump in and do their move. It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. People were doing the "Sprinkler" and the "Cowboy" and the "Running Man" and the "Lawn Mower"...basically every ridiculously funny steo you could imagine...and the Thai teachers loved it! Traditional Thai dancing is very delicate and gentle and it was so great seeing them bust out and be rowdy. Talk about some cultural exchange. Unfortunately, since I was up there dancing with them, I wasn't able to take pictures of their moves. Hopefully someone else did and as soon as I find some pics, I will post them. But here are a few that I got to take.

Earlier that day, we had a Medical session that was pretty depressing (there are some pretty messed us diseases in Thailand) so Dr. Rit cheered us up with some goodies

With Ajarn Rumpai

Garrett and I with Ajarn Wipada

The guys

We had an inspiring traditional Thai ceremony (I forgot what it was called...I'll find out) where we were blessed by our Ajarns in an elegant candle procession of sorts

Part of the blessing was the tying of a white piece of string on our wrists with some words of encouragement. It was very touching. I shed a tear...well not really...but it was touching.

Game Fishing in Thailand

2007-01-24T17:30:00.000+07:00

So I'm drinking with my host family on a Friday night (I seem to become more fluent in Thai when I drink so I try to drink as often as I can) and they invite me to go fishing the next day. Using sign language (I've become quite fluent) I tell them I'd love to fish and I even act out casting a fishing rod out into the sea and reeling in a big one. I should have known this wasn't going to be "conventional" fishing when they all laughed and in sign language (they've become fluent with me around) told me rods would not be needed, indicating that we would be using our hands. Well, I figured that we would be in a nice stream of some sort catching fish with our bare hands--an idea that appealed to me. So I got up early the next day and my host brother was ready to take me fishing but I had to do a quick project with my PC language group wherein we had to map out our community. The project took a little longer than I thought and I got home at noon. But it was really pretty out--a little overcast so it wasn't too hot--and I told my host brother I'd love to still go fishing though its later than we had originally planned for. So we hop on his truck and I'm all excited to hang out by a stream in the heart of a Thai province and I have my camera all ready to take some amazing pictures when I begin to notice the road we are on isn't exactly the type of road one might imagine leading to a nice stream. But we keep on going past sugar cane fields and eucalyptus farms until we get to what seems to me to be a rice field. Well, it turns out to be a rice field--a very muddy, and mucky, and muddy rice field...and as much as I start to wish that maybe...just maybe... he wanted to show me what an old rice field looked like or maybe he was picking up a few friends or that maybe my host dad was a planter and they actually owned this field (at this point of my homestay I still don't know what my host father does. My sign language skills, while good, aren't that great...yet) But as he begins to turn off the engine and invites me to head out, I realize that this IS THE FISHING GROUND. So we head out and I figure "when in rome..." so I'm ready to start grabbing for fish in the mud (though I'm still holding on to the image of a nice stream) but we are told that most of the fish have been caught already. Of course I'm wondering how many fish could possibly be caught in this site and wondering even more what type of fish could possibly live here. But I see that there are 5 huge barrels and when I take a peek, I see literally hundreds of fish! I had never seen fish like these before...well, I also never really expected fish to live in mud...and it was actually pretty cool seeing them swim around the barrels. I took a pretty cool video but I can't seem to upload it unto this blog so I'll try to put it on youtube under scary mud fish so you guys can check it out.

But anyway, it was funny because the next day, I was hanging out with a couple of PC volunteers in a little shack sipping on beers and exchanging stories when EJ, one of the volunteers arrived and was like, "Guys, you'll never believe this but my family invited me to go fishing and..." Turns out his family didn't use just their hands. They actually had this little electric rod that they'd dip in the water and the fish would all jump out.

Ah, the simple pleasures of living in a province in Thailand!

P.S. Dinner that night was fried fish...I didn't need to bust out my ENglish-Thai dictionary to ask where the fish came from!

Our fishing grounds

A water buffalo chilling with the fish

We had a post fishing party over here. Had a couple of brewsky's with the fishermen

Peace Corps life

2007-01-21T09:58:00.000+07:00

When I accepted the invitation to serve as a Peace Corps volunteer in Thailand, I knew I was in for an adventure. I imagined that I would see new places, meet some interesting people, and experience some pretty exciting stuff. Barely more than a week into my stay here, I can say it has been exactly as I expected and then some. Here is a look into my first several days in the Land of Smiles!

Departure

Caitlin came to SFO to see me off. We both knew this day would eventually come and while I think we both did a good job preparing for it, it was not easy saying goodbye. But we both also knew that we were in for some pretty exciting times so that helped...sort of.

Stopover in Japan

After the long flight to Tokyo, a couple of us needed a few beers to unwind!

Collin, Mike, Peter and Anton enjoying a couple of Sapporos

Arrival

We got "layed" pretty much as soon as we got off the plane. Dr. John Williams, the PC Thailand country director, was there to meet us along with several of the PCT staff. A bigger surprise awaited us at the exit as a bunch of current serving volunteers were there to welcome us into the Peace Corps family with lots of signs and even more energy.
Then it was off to Kao Yai National Park (a 2 hour bus ride). At this point, I was just so exhausted since I didn't get too much sleep on the plane. It was so much fun traveling with 55 other people after being so used to flying alone for so long.

1/12/07 1st Day

We got in Kao Yai at about 3:30 AM and had a session scheduled for 10:00 AM. Naturally, we were all in a bit of a daze so the PC training staff were kind enough to give us the afternoon off. 56 volunteers+ a pool with a diving board+ a beautiful day+ an awareness that the next 2 years of our lives would not involve some of life's "finer luxuries"= FUN IN THE SUN!!!

1/13/07

Alot of information today. Mostly info about what the next 3 months of our lives were going to look like (intense)

We were taught one of the most essential things for assimilating into Thai culture--the WAI. Essentially, the wai is a greeting used by the Thai people where they place their hands together in front of their faces and bow to acknowledge a person. Thais are VERY polite and EVERYONE wais.

At night we had some karaoke fun with the PST staff. It started off with the Thai staff singing Thai songs but it didn't take long for the PC trainees to take over. A couple of the guys and I did a choreographed rendition of "I Want it that Way" by the Backstreet boys. Sadly, I knew the lyrics and the dance moves...yikes! The Thai staff loved it!

Backstreet Boys..Peace Corps Style

1/14-1/16

The next 3 days were mostly sessions on a bunch of information i.e. policies, medical, language, cultural, etc.

1/17- Meeting the Governor, HOMESTAY

We met the governor of Sakeo province today and had to introduce ourselves in Thai. Dr. John said he was very impressed with our group. Good stuff! The afternoon included a few crash courses on using the traditional Thai toilet and shower and how to set up our mosquito nets during our homestay.

Looking all professional for the governorGroup shot Squatting Toilet 101
Setting up the mosquito net

A big part of our training includes living with a Thai host family for the next 2 months. It will be a total immersion into Thai culture plus a good way to pick up the language. I'm currently about 4 days into my homestay and while it has been difficult at times--the language barrier can be tough--it was been a very rewarding experience, one I will probably never forget. Here are a couple of pictures of my new home! First picture is of my family, 2nd--my room, 3rd--my toilet and 4th--my bath room. Pretty intense stuff but actually alot of fun. I was a little worried about the squat toilet at first but I've gotten used to it (when you gotta go, you gotta go!)

Got Rice?

2006-12-31T00:09:00.000+07:00

My entry point for this first ever post is a wonderful piece of information from the Peace Corps Thailand Welcome Book:

"The staple food of Thailand is rice, so you will find a variety of rice dishes for ALL THREE MEALS (I added the emphasis). For example, you might have boiled rice with some type of meat for breakfast, fried rice or noodles with or without meat for lunch, and boiled white or brown rice with curry or stir-fried vegetables for dinner."

So to those of you concerned about my general well being for these next 27 months...worry no more!!! Yes, there will be difficult times and I know I'll have bouts with homesickness and frustration. There may even be times when I'll write about how I have no idea as to what I'm doing or what I'm supposed to do. I will be sick at times and I know I'll have my fair share of gastrointestinal issues. But through it all, do not worry too much. For in spite of all the challenges I may face, I will surely be a happy eater. And when push comes to shove, happy eaters are always very good survivors!

There is of course, much more for me to be excited about other than the abundance of rice. With less than two weeks to go before I leave, I am looking forward to so much! I feel that this upcoming experience will be the first time that I fully stretch myself. I say this because as I look at some of the defining moments of my life that have involved some sort of moving out from a comfort zone--moving to the United States for college; living with minors in conflict with the law in the Philippines; representing the Philippines in a conference in Japan; and backpacking around Europe-- I notice that while these events did require some adjustment, they never required me to leave my comfort zone completely. I either spoke the language or was familiar with the culture or was surrounded by people travelling as well or I simply did not stay long enough for the romance of a new place to wear off.

In Thailand however, I will be living in a place where so much will be unfamiliar, where I will have to learn how to say "can you help me" or "where is the bathroom?" or "please pass the rice" in another language. I will be living in a place where the air will smell like an unfamiliar spice and every new crossroad will look just like the previous one (though those familiar with my horrible sense of direction will say that that is already the case for me). Perhaps the most beautiful thing about this experience (and certainly the one that I am most excited about) is that I will be there long enough to truly be there. In the grand scheme of things, 27 months may not seem like much but I have a strong feeling that it will be a substantial amount of time for pretty special things to happen.

And hence this online journal. I will be using this journal to post pictures, share stories, and tell of my adventures (and misadventures) in Thailand. I figure it will be a good way for me to keep family and friends updated as I go about filling my cup with experiences (and my belly with rice). Do feel free to leave comments on the blog and, even better, do feel free to visit me in Thailand! I hope this journal allows me to paint a picture of my life in Thailand as the foreign slowly becomes the familiar and the spices become distinguishable. And who knows? With some work, the crossroads might even become recognizable.