The View From Here

Only in Thailand...

2007-08-16T15:32:00.000-07:00

Last week, I read the news that the Bangkok police have begun using "Hello Kitty" armbands as a punishment. Specifically, officers who break rules of various sorts will be required to wear the armbands as a form of humiliation. You can read the article here.

I wasn't entirely sure what to make of this news. It surprised me a bit, as Thai culture generally is not in favor of humiliation or shame. "Losing face" by having your wrongs pointed out to you -- public or not -- is avoided. I don't remember ever having seen one Thai person trying to embarrass another, beyond your typical schoolchildren teasing about who "liked" who.

Then again, life in Thailand can be a little bizarre... in many situations.

Personal Feature: The Family Next Door

2007-07-07T13:03:00.000-07:00

I've written several times about our neighbors. We were surrounded by many good folks who looked after us during floods, storms, illness, and household maintainance. Some were very loud, true, but for the most part we enjoyed our living situation. The family next door was very important to us throughout our time in Thailand, so I'll write about them today.

Who lived there, just a few feet south of our windows? The list included Ann (red sweater, in photo), her husband Rat, their son Nong Dae, Ann's mother Moon (flowered shirt), her father Som, her nephew Lek, and her older brother Boon. That list varied from time to time, because Rat is in the military and was often off at his post, and Ann sometimes went to join him for a month or two.

Ann was just a year younger than me. She came over to introduce herself on the day we moved in, and was pleased that we would be neighbors. At that time she worked a low-level job at the school district office. Nong Dae was not quite a year old, and he stayed home with his grandmother during the days. But when he started walking and became too much work for his grandmother to handle, Ann quit her job and had to find new ways of making money. During the course of our two years in town, she tried many different projects: making crepes to sell on the street and at local events, taking in laundry, making roasted corn and eggrolls to sell in the town where her husband was posted, raising fish, signing up with Amway to sell household products and cosmetics to the women in town... (It's true, I became an Amway member while I was living in Thailand as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I bought the detergent.) She never seemed to be able to break even, though, and was often stressed about money and how to care for her family. When we left, she was about to start a bread-baking business. We sold her our oven for a very low price, and I tried to find some recipes on the internet that could be modified for Thai ingredients.

Rat was originally from northeastern Thailand. He was one of the nicest Thai men we ever met. He didn't drink alcohol and was quite devoted to his family. He and Ann met in Bangkok and were married several years ago. He was usually gone for 2-3 weeks at a time, and when
he came home he would do all sorts of household projects -- building fences, stairways, and other quality-of-life remodels. He worked hard and didn't get much rest.

We had many happy times with Ann & Rat. Our first Songkran in Thailand, they took us to the parade in town, and guided us home when the drunken teenagers got too rough. Our first New Years, they invited us over for a beer at midnight. We helped celebrate Nong Dae's second birthday, and watched him grow from a crawling baby into an active three-year-old with a strong personality.

This past New Years, we traveled with several Peace Corps friends to Pai, a town in Mae Hong Sorn province that is popular with tourists. It also happens to be where Rat is stationed, as it's near the border with Burma. Ann, Nong Dae, and Mae Moon were living with him at the time, so we were able to all meet for a day and do some touring together. The photo was taken at a park nearby.

There isn't much about life in Thailand that I miss, but I do think often about the people that we knew there. I wonder how they are doing, if Ann has managed to make any money, if Nong Dae has gotten bigger, if there is a threat of flooding this year.

No Chopsticks with Rice!

2007-06-12T07:14:00.000-07:00

We returned to the United States in mid-April, and it was seven weeks before we ate Thai food. Astonishing!

But before we left Washington last week, Robert's parents took us to a "northern" Thai restaurant in Everett. It wasn't very "northern" at all, but the food was still quite good. It made me feel excited about eating Thai food again!

At one point, I looked around the restaurant and noticed that nearly all of the other diners were eating their food with chopsticks. This both surprised and amused me. Here is the truth:

In Thailand, people do not eat rice with chopsticks!!! They eat it with their hands (if it's sticky rice), or with spoons (if it's regular white rice). NO CHOPSTICKS. Chopsticks are used only for noodle dishes -- primarily soups -- and Chinese food. Not with Thai rice dishes. If you used chopsticks to eat rice in Thailand, people would think you were very strange. (As proof, I have provided a photo of a meal in a Thai home, at which we are clearly not using chopsticks.)

To be fair, when our food was brought to the table, the waiter offered us chopsticks. I imagine this was done because so many diners ask for them. Also, our place settings originally included just knives and forks. Thai people don't use knives at the table, and they don't put forks in their mouths -- only spoons. We had to ask for spoons at the restaurant. I would not have been comfortable eating Thai dishes with a fork after living in Thailand for two years!

Also, to be fair, I think that I myself used to use chopsticks when I went to Thai restaurants, because I thought that was how it was supposed to be done, and I thought it was cool. But now I know.

McDonalds

2007-05-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

Before I joined the Peace Corps, I lived in a great neighborhood in St. Paul, Minnesota. Within walking distance from my house I could find Thai, Nepalese, Vietnamese, Afghani, and Italian restaurants. If I hopped on a bus, I could reach Greek, Mexican, Kurdish, Cuban, and many more. I enjoyed being able to eat food from all over the world. I also enjoyed living in a city with a large immigrant population. I thought this spoke well of Minnesota – that motivated people could come from other countries and build themselves a new life there. And of course, those immigrants had no trouble finding food from their own countries, even there in St. Paul.

The term “globalization” is thrown around a lot these days, often in a negative way. Many people blame “globalization” for job losses in America, because American corporations often hire workers overseas to save money. Other people worry that “globalization” results in a loss of local culture, because more and more people adopt a common lifestyle or consume the same products.

When I taught social studies in Minnesota, I tended to side with these arguments. Living in Thailand and witnessing some of the other effects of “globalization,” however, changed my understanding of the term and its real-life meaning.

While I in no way would want a local culture to lose touch with the elements and traditions that make it unique, I think there’s also something to be said for the spread of positive behaviors and traits from one culture to another. For example, the idea that women have rights and should be educated has a very visible and, in my opinion, positive effect on life in Thailand. I knew many strong, smart women there who benefitted from this relatively new development, and I thought about it often when observing my female students.

The fast food industry is often held up as an example of the less positive effects of globalization. Both in American neighborhoods and in other societies around the world, fast food restaurants are a symbol of a rather sterile, homogenized environment, in which individuality and variety are replaced by standardization and sameness. I don’t frequent fast food restaurants in the United States, primarily because I don’t eat meat and I prefer healthier options (though I’ve recently discovered that Burger King makes a fine veggie burger, good for a quick meal during an airport layover). There are times, though, when there’s something to be said for being able to walk into a place and knowing what to expect. I’ve been known to choose Pizza Hut after a long day of driving rather then venturing into an unfamiliar neighborhood in search of vegetarian food.

I wasn’t sure what to think when I discovered that Thailand, particularly in the cities, has no shortage of American fast food. KFC and Dairy Queen are easy to find in almost any province, and select areas have plenty of Starbucks, McDonalds, and Sizzler to choose from. Did this mean that American culture was “invading” Thailand and displacing the locals? Were the Thais who ate at such places being “forced” to do so as a result of local economics, or were they doing it by choice?

Thomas Friedman writes in The Lexus and the Olive Tree that globalization involves both “push” and “pull.” He describes a Taco Bell in Qatar as being appealing to locals on account of its “clean bathroom, international sanitation standards, smiling service and quality controls – all at a cheap price they could afford.” Kentucky Fried Chicken in Malaysia was popular because it symbolized “modernity.” While McDonalds in Thailand was certainly more expensive than a typical bowl of noodles on the street, it was also cheaper than many of the full-service sit-down Thai restaurants I visited with co-workers during my two years. And it was, most of the time, cleaner. Local people around the world have their own reasons for choosing American fast food, and who is to say their reasons aren’t valid?

I consider myself a world traveler, and certainly a USA traveler. I’ve been lucky enough to visit lots of different places and cultures. I know I won’t have the chance to go everywhere, though. I’ll probably never get the opportunity to see Ethiopia, for example. Does that mean I should never have a chance to experience Ethiopian culture, on any level? I don’t think so... and fortunately for me, there’s a few Ethiopian restaurants right here in Seattle to choose from. Friedman quotes a Malaysian describing attitudes in her country: “‘Elites here say, ‘You should not have McDonalds,’ but for the little people, who don’t get to travel to America, they have America come to them.’” Perhaps its overly elitist for any of us to say that those “little people” shouldn’t have that opportunity if they want it.

When we were visiting Malaysia, one of our last nights in a quiet beach town we chatted with a family from Sweden. The parents talked about how Indonesian beach resorts had been “ruined” by the arrival of tourist-oriented business, including fast food, and how they expected Malaysia to go down the same path before too long. I agree that serious efforts should be made to keep beautiful natural places from being spoiled by uncontrolled development. At the same time, those of us who are wealthy enough to go on vacation at beach resorts ought to recognize that other people have the right to improve their own economic situations, and perhaps they see starting a McDonalds franchise as their best opportunity for doing so. Do we deny them that opportunity? Friedman writes, “[Fast food franchises] proliferate because they offer people something they want, and to tell people in developing countries they can’t have it because it would spoil the view and experience of people visiting from developed countries would be both insufferably arrogant and futile.”

In summary: globalization is maybe not all bad.

Updates

2007-05-18T20:54:00.001-07:00

I have found that keeping up with this blog while living in America is more difficult than I had expected! Between buying a car, visiting with family and friends, traveling between Minnesota and Seattle, and applying for jobs, I have little time left over for writing. I’m determined to write at least once a week or so, though. Same goes for my other blog, describing our various travels.

And now, I am happy to announce that I’ve been accepted at graduate school starting in September. Hooray! My life has direction once again. Life after Peace Corps is starting to take some shape.

Funny Toast

2007-05-11T22:43:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while, as we've been busy getting settled in Seattle and buying a car. The lovely cold weather, both in Minnesota last week and in Washington now, have been wonderful. This is the time of year that Jae Hom, our town in Thailand, breaks 100 degrees nearly every day. Yikes! I don't know how I survived.

Anyway, I was flipping through photos from this time last year. We had just spent a week on the beach of Ko Chang, Thailand, with Robert's cousin Karin. One morning at breakfast, we enjoyed this funny toast. Nothing like being greeted by a cat on your plate!

Reflections on Buddhism and Peace Corps

2007-05-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

Today Robert and I attended a discussion of The Tibetan Book of the Dead (TBD) at my father’s church. I don’t know much about Tibetan Buddhism, but I did live surrounded by Thai Buddhism for two years, so it was interesting to share perspectives and make comparisons.

In a nutshell: The TBD was probably first created around the 7th or 8th century AD. According to the introduction in our translation, it is read to a dying person as they are making their exit from this world. The book describes the challenges they will face as they transition towards either nirvana or reincarnation, and attempts to help guide the person towards a meditation on nothingness, or enlightenment. (Forgive any glaring errors in my summary; as I said I am no export!) It is clear from the text that enlightenment is the preferred outcome, but also that it is very difficult to attain, and made even more so by the karma that the person has earned during their life.

Robert and I had many discussions about our experience with Buddhism while we were in Thailand, especially in comparison with our own background and experience as Christians. What most stood out to us, consistently, was the Thai Buddhist preoccupation with making merit by giving to the temple in order to store up a good account for the next reincarnation, or afterlife, in contrast with our modern Catholic/Episcopal traditions of social justice here on earth to make life better for other humans, with faith that we’ll be in heaven after this life.

In other words, the Thais that we met were concerned not with the plight of fellow humans, but with their own next life, which was unrelated. In fact, Buddhism says that to ignore worldly concerns is the way to attain enlightenment. We, as Christians, have faith that we don’t need to worry about life after death – that’s already been taken care of, more or less, by the resurrection of Jesus – and we are encouraged to go out and do good works in the meantime. Although many Americans are not Christian, I nonetheless think that the constant desire and motivation for personal and societal improvement that is part of Christianity is also part of modern American culture.

I think that this opposite worldview, as evidenced by a comparison of religious traditions, had a direct impact on our Peace Corps experience. Robert and I were motivated – by a variety of factors – to want to do the best that we could for our students, most of whom we saw as the less privileged members of society in terms of their poverty and lack of opportunity. We saw improved education, health awareness, and access to advanced skill development as the best ways of helping our students. Our Thai counterparts, on the other hand, did not show much interest in these issues. In their worldview, the students were born into their current status, and a focus on change or improvement was an unnecessary distraction. This is not to say that they didn’t want to help the students at all; I knew many of good teachers who wanted their students to be able to read, write, do math, and brush their teeth properly, out of a genuine concern for the students’ well-being. But if the goal changed from maintenance to improvement, most of the Thai educators we knew lost interest.

Disclaimer: This blog entry is not intended to be a criticism of Buddhism. It is merely a reflection on how religion might influence one’s worldview and desire for improvement.

A Return to Civility?

2007-04-27T14:03:00.000-07:00

I recognize that I live in a pretty nice part of America. Minnesota is a great state, and my neighborhood is just about the best. All the same, during my first 12 days home, I’ve been continually surprised by the politeness and civility of the people I encounter.

Since we haven’t yet purchased a car, we’ve spent a lot of time walking around on various errands and family visits. There have been exactly two times that, while walking, I have had someone shout something at me. The first was last week, when walking with a friend and her 2-year-old. A car of young-ish appearing males drove by and shouted something I’ve now forgotten. The second was a few evenings ago, when I was out walking for exercise. Another car of young-ish men drove by and shouted something that I think was, “Run faster!”

In my pre-Thailand days, both these experiences would probably have bothered me a lot. “Why are they shouting at me?” I’d have thought. “What did I ever do to them?”

Post-Thailand, however, all I could think of each time it happened was, “Wow, that’s the first time someone has shouted at me in America!” and “Wow, that’s only the second time someone has shouted at me in America!” Living in Thailand, I had just gotten used to being stared at, shouted at, and pointed at all the time. Sometimes it was benign or even friendly, and sometimes it was most definitely not. It was just something that all of us Peace Corps Volunteers learned to live with, eventually, though I can’t say I knew anyone who liked it.

The other thing that has amazed me nearly every day since our return home is the way that people stop for us when we are crossing the street. We have a pretty good crosswalk law here, and a few years ago there was a lot of publicity about how cars that didn’t stop for pedestrians risked getting ticketed for it. I guess it worked, because I keep stopping at corners and intersections, waiting for cars to go by, and they keep stopping for me. It’s a little unsettling, but in a good way. I don’t think I ever had a vehicle stop for me in Thailand. Most of the time, I was on high alert, trying to make sure I didn’t get bowled over by a flying motorcycle, noodle stand, or pickup truck. Even in our little town, traffic could be pretty scary.

People talk all the time about the rude manners of Americans, but I’m giving high marks this week for the USA being pedestrian-friendly!

By the way, don't forget to check out my blog about our Cambodia-Malaysia travels at Kate's Travel Blog!

What's Inside...

2007-04-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

Way, way back, during our Peace Corps training, one of our Thai training directors commented on the sad state of Thai education. “I see schools spending huge sums of money to have a beautiful sign made,” he said. “But when you go inside the school, there’s no teaching going on. I think this is what needs to change in Thailand.” We were still idealistic at that point, and didn’t know how hard it was going to be to promote “student-centered learning” in Thailand. But the comment stuck with us, and two years later in Minnesota, I’m still thinking about it.

Much of Thai society operates this way. A gleaming structure is beautiful to look at but has nothing of substance inside. A student from a school wins numerous awards, bringing honor to the school, but none of the other kids in his class can read. A shiny new airport is built at the cost of billions of dollars, but the runway is on top of a swamp and starts to sink. A ceremony is held for a new library, but there’s no books inside that kids actually want to read. Where is the thought? Where is the deliberation? Where is the meaning? Where is the real benefit?

This photo shows me sitting with three neighborhood kids outside the local elementary school in our training village. From the sign, and perhaps even from the nice plants behind it, you’d think that this school is a well-run, attractive spot, probably with some good education happening inside. In reality, class sizes were in the 40s and kids had few materials. Teachers often didn’t show up for class. And this was one of the better-run public schools that we saw in Thailand.

It’s often said about Thailand that the people there value social harmony and evenness. They don’t like having debate, disagreement, or anything that isn’t “beautiful.” (“Beautiful” was one of the words we heard most often in Thailand, right after “delicious.”) While this has its benefits, it also has some drastic consequences, because circumstances or situations that should be challenged are not. Airports are built on swamps, and teachers go shopping instead of teaching.

I’m now reading The Lexus and the Olive Tree by Thomas Friedman, a book published in 2000 about globalization. My understanding of globalization is vastly different after two years in Thailand than it was before I went, and I’ll probably have several blogs on this topic. I chose to write about the school signs today, though, because of a particular quote in the book. While discussing the Southeast Asian economic crash of the late 1990s, he writes, “[The SE Asian countries] had replicated the outward configurations of the Western financial systems, but in many cases in was replication by rote. There was something missing inside.” In other words, while Thailand and other countries had appeared to transition to a free-market economy, in actuality there was no substance behind the change, and the transition failed. The fancy sign was on display, but no teaching was going on.

Home

2007-04-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

We returned home on Sunday and have been spending several days recovering from jet lag and enjoying American food. Here is a short list of things we’re happy to be experiencing once again:

– spring weather, cool temperatures, and sweaters
– quiet traffic (hardly any motorcycles!)
– cereal and bagels for breakfast
– being able to state our opinions
– dry bathroom floors
– running paths
– family and friends!

I’ve started a new blog for descriptions and photos of our Cambodia-Malaysia trip. You can visit it at Kate's Travel Blog. I’ll continue to write more about Thailand at this site.

Sidficious and Friend Swim in the Straits of Melaka

2007-04-14T03:37:00.000-07:00

Sidficious, the world traveler, appears again.

He enjoyed the water.

Good luck Ian and Calin!

And hello Liz!

Monkey Attack!

2007-04-12T01:04:00.000-07:00

Ok, so it didn't actually succeed at attacking me, but it would have if the water hadn't been just a couple of feet away!

Today we rented a double-seated kayak for three hours, and eventually found ourselves on the most lovely little beach ever. We were the only people there. After some fish-watching, cookie-eating, and sunscreen-re-applying, we ducked back into the crystal clear water for a final swim before returning the kayak.

Suddenly, I saw a monkey come out of the trees and head straight for our stuff. When this happened on Tuesday at a more populated beach, I just walked out of the water toward the monkey and it ran away. Today, no such luck. I exited the water and walked towards it, assuming it would run. Instead, it bared its fangs and lunged towards me!

Shocked, I spun around and ran back into the sea. Apparently monkeys don't like getting wet, because it stopped shortly before reaching the water. It then returned to peruse our stuff.

After some quick consultation, we decided that it wasn't going to give up access to our things without a fight, so we came up with a weapon: rocks. From our position down at the water, we began throwing rocks at it. It bared its fangs a few more times, but didn't charge again and instead crept back into the trees. We then took turns standing guard while reassembling our belongings. The last we saw of the monkey, it was smuggling a coconut from the water's edge into the jungle.

Enjoying Malaysia

2007-04-10T22:08:00.000-07:00

We've continued to have a fantastic time on our post-Peace Corps travels here in Malaysia. After leaving the Cameron Highlands, we visited the island of Penang in the northwest. Penang has an interesting history of British colonialism combined with Chinese settlement (as do other parts of Malaysia), which we enjoyed learning about at a couple of museums and by walking through town. We tried some local cuisine, including "laksa" -- a spicy, sour fish curry, as well as a rather bizzare potato/tofu mix covered in red sauce and eaten cold. I'll describe more when I can post pictures!

Now we're settled at the beach for a couple of days. It's a little rainy at times, but still very beautiful and relaxing.

Here are a few things we like about Malaysia as compared to Thailand:

1. People here drive more slowly and less crazily.
2. This is a truly multicultural society, with Chinese, Indians, and Malays all interacting and socializing.
3. There are multiple cuisines to choose from.
4. It is green and clean, compared to the dusty dry place we left in March!
5. Things seem to work pretty well here on the whole.
6. There is usually soap in the public bathrooms.

It's a great place to be!

Beautiful

2007-04-06T22:30:00.000-07:00

We're now in what must be one of the most beautiful places on earth -- the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia. Sadly, our internet cafe doesn't have USB ports so I can't put up any photos yet. That will have to wait until we return home.

In the meantime, however, we're having a wonderful couple of days hiking, looking at roses, drinking tea and eating scones. The weather is remarkably cool, so we wear sweatshirts and socks and shoes. Vacation is good.

Kuala Lumpur

2007-04-04T05:24:00.000-07:00

We've landed in another world. Yesterday we arrived in Malaysia, and the differences between here and Thailand (and Cambodia) are almost overwhelming! It's Southeast Asia, but then again, it's not the Southeast Asia we've become familiar with over the past two years. I have to say that we are enjoying it very much!

Today we toured some of Kuala Lumpur, the capital city. It's an amazingly clean and green city -- filled with parks, well-maintained streets, and beautiful buildings. Perhaps we just haven't seen the more run-down parts, but it has really been lovely to us.

We started with the Petronas Towers, of course, because how could you visit Malaysia and not stop by the world's tallest buildings? They didn't really look all that tall to me, but it was fun for taking photos anyway.

From the towers, we rode subways and monorails to the starting point of the Lonely Planet's "colonial district" walking tour. British and Islamic architecture combine to make some fantastic buildngs. We also visited the National Mosque, where we learned a lot about Islam in Malaysia. It was really interesting. As you can see, my clothing was not entirely suitable, so I had to cover up a little more. (I had been wearing capri pants and a t-shirt.)

At intervals, we've also enjoyed several delicious Indian meals. The Indian population in Malaysia is about 8% of the total, and I think that's even higher in KL, so finding cheap Indian food is very easy. I can't get enough!

Tomorrow, we'll start exploring more of the peninsula. Stay tuned!

Cambodia: Place of Contrasts

2007-04-01T04:43:00.000-07:00

We've been in Cambodia 5 days now. I'll be writing fuller descriptions with photos of our travels after we return home, but I wanted to at least say a few things while we're still on the road.

To sum up Cambodia, I have to say that it is a place of contrasts. Wealth and spendor (a bit) contrast with grueling poverty. Delicious food contrasts with trash on the roads. The kindness of the people we meet today constrasts with the brutal history they experienced in their immediate past. The vast number of tourists from all different countries here in Siem Riep (site of Angkor Wat) contrasts with our bus rides through the countryside to get here, during which we saw almost no foreign faces. The amazing beauty of Angkor Wat contrasts with the 100+ degree heat that you must move through to explore it.

We have really enjoyed our time here so far, in part because the examination of these contrasts is so fascinating. We have spent most of our time on the beaten path, but did have the opportunity to spend a few hours one evening with a friend from Peace Corps Thailand who has been living and working here for a year. She gave us more of the story behind the scenes that most tourists in Cambodia see. Hearing her real stories of life here, and contrasting those with our tourist experience, reminded me of what it was like to live full-time in Thailand and contrast our experience there with what was usually written in guidebooks and seen by visitors. There's a world of difference between visiting a place and living in it. I'm glad that we've gotten the chance to do both here in Southeast Asia.

Now, we're off to some more good Cambodian food and Angkor Beer!

Phnom Penh

2007-03-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

This morning Robert and I left Bangkok at an early hour and flew to Phnom Penh, Cambodia. We'll be spending a little bit of time in this new country.

What I can say right now is that it's VERY HOT here. Bangkok was hot, too, but at least had frequent air-conditioning to help keep things feeling semi-normal. Here there doesn't seem to be so much AC. I can also say that there are lots of tasty baguettes. Ah, bread.

We did enjoy our ride from the airport to our guest house. Lots of new sights and sounds -- very different from Thailand! I haven't taken any photos yet, but I'm sure they will be forthcoming soon.

Chinatown

2007-03-26T23:30:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, we visited Bangkok's Chinatown with our old Thai language instructor, Pi Lin, from Peace Corps training. Her family is Chinese and lives near Chinatown, so she was able to show us around and explain everything. It was my first time touring a Chinatown, and very fascinating.

We visited two major temples, and we learned that Chinese Buddhism has some differences from Thai Buddhism. For example, Thai Buddhism has just one "Buddha" god, but Chinese Buddhism has many, of which some have female attributes.

The second wat we visited was extremely smoky because so many people were burning large handfuls of incense sticks as they walked around. It made our eyes tear up!

Pi Lin also walked us through several lanes of market stalls. Since it was probably over 100 degrees F yesterday, this was very hot, but at least they were mostly shaded. It was cool to see the different kinds of food -- fish stomachs, large ocean worms, dozens of varieties of teas and mushrooms -- and multi-lingual signs. I recommend Chinatown to anyone who wants a new southeast Asian experience!

Fancy

2007-03-26T02:32:00.001-07:00

On Friday, we got to attend the 45th anniversary celebration of Peace Corps Thailand. It was a very big event. Former Thailand volunteers flew in from different places around the world to be present for the ceremonies. The Crown Princess of Thailand also attended and spoke! We wore fancy Thai clothes all day, and boy are they hot.

On Saturday, many of the former volunteers were kind enough to participate in a panel and small group discussions for us newly finishing volunteers. They talked to us about returning to the USA, applying for jobs, considering graduate school, and keeping up a connection with the Peace Corps experience. It was very interesting and helpful. Thank you RPCVs!

It's now Monday afternoon, so we've got just 31 hours remaining of our Peace Corps service. The check-out process includes lots of paperwork and errand-running. Then we'll be on our way to parts yet unexplored...!

Airport Farewell

2007-03-23T07:55:00.000-07:00

We left our site for the final time yesterday morning, in style and with an escort. For two years, we've traveled to Bangkok by riding a songtaew or bus into the capital of Lampang province, then boarded another bus or train for an 8-12 hour ride. For our last trip out, we were driven to the city in an air-conditioned van, and taken to the airport instead of the bus or train station (thanks mom!).

Our landlord, Robert's principal, had arranged for a large group of teachers to see us off. I think about twenty people in all, including Ajaan Warangkana and Pi Noy, were there. We were presented with jasmine wreaths and necklaces (14 total) and stood for dozens of photos. Since we arrived at the airport a full two hours before the flight, there was plenty of time for chatting and saying goodbye to those who had joined us.

When our boarding was finally called, and we walked through the door to the security screener, it was a little difficult to wave goodbye for the last time.

Goodbye Northern Thailand

2007-03-21T02:05:00.000-07:00

I'm sweaty, covered in dust and grime, and pretty tired after many hours of cleaning and scrubbing the little pink house. But it's nearly time to go, so I wanted to make one last post from our site. In just 16 hours we'll drive away from here for the last time!

Several people have asked if our departure from Thailand will be the end of this blog. The answer is No! I've still got much more to say about our time here, and at least 1,000 more photos to show. I'm also sure that being back in America will make me think about some different things, and start reflecting on this experience in some new ways. If you want to keep learning about Peace Corps Thailand, keep coming back.

We'll be in the country for a few more days, doing a little celebration and a lot of paperwork. Then we're off on some travels to other parts of southeast Asia for just a couple of weeks before finally flying home to the USA mid-April. I don't know how often I'll be writing, but keep checking back if you're interested in seeing where we are and what we're up to!

The Perfect Lunch

2007-03-18T20:36:00.000-07:00

When we return to America, I'll be able to make some of my favorite Thai foods at home, and find many of the others in restaurants. I'm sure they just won't taste the same as they do here, though.

Since school has ended we've had lots of time at home (packing, mostly), and it has meant that we've been able to go out and get one of my favorite foods for lunch nearly every day. Som tam, or papaya salad, is usually made from shredded raw papaya. It's pounded up with garlic, chili peppers, tomatoes, green beans, peanuts, and tamarind. Non-vegetarians might add shrimp, crab, or fermented fish paste. I just go for salt or soy sauce.

It's perfect eaten with sticky rice, and in this case, with some Diet Pepsi on the side. At night, it's great with a beer!

Bittersweet

2007-03-16T21:07:00.000-07:00

If I were to do my Peace Corps Thailand service over again, and I could design my own project, I would be not an English teacher but a public health worker. I would be based not at schools, but at the local hospital. And much as I have loved and enjoyed my two co-teachers over these past two years, my counterparts would be the women in this picture, nurses in our town.

Last night this group of four single women, all of whom work at the hospital in town, took us out for dinner in the city. It was a fantastic evening, in part because we don’t usually get to go “to the city” for the evening, but mostly because they are a wonderful group of people. We first met three of them when they came to our house about a year and half ago asking whether we were available to teach them some evening English lessons. We taught them and a few others for about two months, and they were a great group. The fourth we met when we tried getting involved with the local HIV/AIDS organization, as she is the hospital’s liaison to that group.

These women understand the problems facing Thai society more than anyone we’ve talked to in our two years here. They’re dedicated to working with real people and real situations, not just filling in their time cards. Much of the evening was spent talking about alcohol problems, domestic abuse, teenage abortion, drug addiction, suicide, and of course AIDS, all problems rampant in our district but ones that teachers at our schools are generally not interested in discussing.

It was a rather bittersweet night, as we spent time with people who cared about the same issues we do, and who actually try to do something about it, and we wondered how our two years here would have been different if our assignment had been to work with them instead of in schools. Of course, we did try on numerous occasions to get involved with the hospital for “secondary project” work, but for a variety of reasons it never seemed to work out, and we continued teaching English. With just five days remaining in town, all I can do is hope that at some point in the future I’ll be doing a job in America that matters, and that Peace Corps will send another volunteer with the purpose of working with nurses like these. They’ve got great ideas and motivation on their own, but every little bit helps.

The Perfect Size

2007-03-15T18:53:00.000-07:00

One thing Thailand does right is Dairy Queen Blizzard Sizes. There's a DQ at the Big C in our province, so every time we go to stock up on supplies I indulge in a little ice cream goodness.

This is a Thai small, for twenty-five baht, or about 76 cents in American money since the dollar dropped over the past few months. It's big enough to make you feel like you've had a real treat, but not so big that you're worried about calories or uncomfortably stuffed afterward!

You can get an "American" small-size DQ Blizzard in Thailand. It's called a "large"!

A little update on our air quality situation: yesterday morning the Peace Corps office called us to ask if we needed to evacuate. We declined, since we have too much to do during our last six days in our town, but I thought it emphasized the seriousness of the situation! I didn't see any ash falling yesterday, but the air isn't noticeably improved.

The Burning Skies...

2007-03-14T07:33:00.000-07:00

About a month or so ago I wrote about our dry weather. It is of course the dry season here in northen Thailand, but this year is apparently much drier than usual. To be clear, it HAS NOT RAINED here since OCTOBER. It’s now mid-March. That is nearly five full months without rain. The effects of this dryness, combined with the fires that are constantly burning around town and on the mountainsides, are becoming unbearable.

We’re no longer able to do much exercise in the evenings, be it jogging, aerobics, or bicycling, because the smoke gets into our lungs and is quite painful. I’ve been going in the mornings, when the previous days’ fires have burnt out and new ones have not yet started. Smoke creeps into our house during the day from multiple directions (especially our next-door-neighbors’ back yard) and our outside surfaces are constantly covered in dust and ash, no matter how frequently I sweep. (Inside is not much better.)

When Robert went to the market yesterday evening to buy groceries, he came back and reported that in addition to choking on the smoke, he was seeing large pieces of ash falling from the sky all around. I went outside and sure enough, I could see them too. We took a photo of this one that had fallen in the road in front of our house. You might also notice in the photo that the sky is white, not blue, due to the thickness of the smoke and other dry dusty stuff in the air.

Today’s Bangkok Post had an article headlined, “Government set to declare state of emergency; One-week deadline for haze to improve,” about our air quality. You can read it by clicking on the link. If you do read it, be sure to notice the theory promoted by the Chief of the Chiang Mai Environmental Office as to why the air is so bad this year...

Cheers!

2007-03-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

On Friday evening, our neighbors across the street hosted a little dinner gathering for us. For over four hours we sat, chatted, ate, and drank.

I've been fond of this group of people since we first arrived in our town. It was with them that we spent the day of the flood -- on the second story of one of their houses, after escaping from our own -- and I trust them completely. Many of them are semi-related in one way or another, and they break a few of the "rules" of Thai culture, which is part of why I enjoy them so much.

As part of our Peace Corps training, we females were warned that to drink any alcohol in public would be our downfall as volunteers. Thai women who drink are supposedly seen as loose and immoral in this very conservative culture. I adopted this new attitude quite well and, when I did have a half glass of beer during my last week at our host family's home, I felt guilty for days afterward. So, imagine my surprise when, upon our arrival at site in April of 2005, I saw the women across the street drinking merrily every night and not seeming to suffer -- or worry about -- any social consequences.

I later discovered that the supposed social prohibition against women drinking is a bit of a myth these days, as I watched female school district employees, teachers, and others all over our town enjoy alcohol on many occasions. It took me nearly a year before I was willing to ignore the Peace Corps warnings and drink in public, but when I finally did it was with this group. I still feel a bit weird whenever it happens, but on Friday night, I enjoyed the party. For, as you can see from the photo, what's not to enjoy?

My Husband, the Teacher

2007-03-11T21:41:00.000-07:00

I’ve featured several people on this blog lately, all of them important in my life here in Thailand, and today I’ve decided to feature Robert. He’s pretty important, too!

Mostly I just want to show off a photo of him teaching. I think he does an excellent job. Like me, he teaches at two schools. Mondays and Tuesdays he goes to the big school in our town. Class sizes are in the 30s and 40s, and most of the kids are relatively wealthy for this area (which isn’t very wealthy, but it’s still noticeable). Wednesdays he is at the office with me, and Thursdays and Fridays he teaches at his village school. It’s three kilometers from our house – not all that far, but much farther than I want to ride a bike in 100 degree heat! It’s a very small, very poor school, and the kids have been just thrilled these last two years to have Robert there.

In December of 2005, the village school organized a little birthday party for Robert. The kids brought in gifts from their homes, including a bath towel, a mug, some potato chips, and a big bottle of Sprite – the last being collectively purchased and offered by a group of enthusiastic young boys, as shown in the second photo. (The other farang in the photo is our friend Calin, who was here visiting at the time.) Robert: a loveable guy!

Bouquets

2007-03-07T05:33:00.000-08:00

In typical Thai national education fashion, the end of the school year is filled with dramatic schedule changes. My last day at my Monday-Thursday school was supposed to be tomorrow, but my co-teacher, Warangkana, was suddenly summoned (along with many other teachers) to a 12-day workshop in Chiang Mai. So my last day at that school was, actually, last week. So much for saying goodbye! Warangkana will be back just in time to help drive us to the airport on the day we leave town.

The unexpected departure of nearly 30% of the teachers at our schools means that going-away parties that were originally planned for next week have instead already happened. Last night was the first, and tonight another. Both were dramatic stories in and of themselves that I don’t have the energy to tell, but I did want to highlight some beautiful gifts we were given.

If you look closely at the flowers in these bouquets – Robert is being given one by our landlord, his principal, in the first photo, and I’m getting one from Warangkana in the second – you’ll notice that they are made of... money. Thai baht bills in different denominations. Teachers at each school folded them into lovely flowers of different varieties. We’ll be leaving Thailand with a bit more cash than we expected! They are so pretty that I’ll hate to unfold them when the time comes, but we were repeatedly reminded to "spend the money" and not let it get mistakenly thrown away!

Personal Feature: Ajaan Waewnapa

2007-03-06T00:08:00.000-08:00

The end of our Peace Corps service is approaching more quickly every day, and last week I had the sudden news that I’ll be saying goodbye to one of my co-teachers this very week. Waewnapa, with whom I teach at my Tuesday-Friday school, will be spending the summer break in another province in order to start working on her masters degree. This means that she has to leave before the school year even ends. I’ve got just one day left with her! I thought I’d better use the opportunity to tell her story now.

Waewnapa was born the youngest of five children to an extremely poor family of farmers several kilometers north of our town. Her parents were unable to provide for her, so a childless couple in their village happily took her to be their own daughter. Until her teenage years, Waewnapa didn’t know that her birth parents, brothers, and sisters lived just across the street. She knew the people she now calls her "foster" parents as her own family.

At age 19, newly graduated from high school and wanting a more exciting life than the village could provide, Waewnapa moved with some friends to Bangkok. She worked as a salesgirl in a shopping mall, barely earning enough to get by. During her first few years there, she observed that a college degree would help her find a better job. She enrolled in night classes to study an English major. It took several years, but finally she finished and found a job working as a receptionist for an international company.

Also working at that company was a young man about her age, who had moved to Bangkok from southern Thailand. They were married in a traditional northern Thai ceremony at which both her birth family and foster family were present, and returned to live in Bangkok. Life was unpleasant, though. Waewnapa’s husband drank and gambled frequently, and wouldn’t allow her to go out with her friends. To pay his gambling debts, he sold the car she had bought herself. Pregnant and sick of marriage, she moved back up north five years ago. He occasionally called her family’s house looking for her, but she refused to see or talk to him.

When her daughter, Nong Muk ("pearl"), was born, Waewnapa knew she needed to find work that would allow her to both make a decent salary and live near her family. She returned to school again, this time to get a teaching degree. After several more difficult years, she finally found a regular teaching job in our town, just before we arrived here ourselves.

Today, Waewnapa continues to work hard. She helps to support both her birth mother and her foster parents, as well as her daughter. She wants Nong Muk to have a good education, and eventually that will mean sending her away to school in the city. In the meantime, she is determined to keep advancing her own education in the hope of finding better job security and more pay. She is also determined to remain single. I asked long ago if she knew where her ex-husband was. "I don’t know, maybe he’s dead for all I care," she responded. As a divorced single mother, she’s at a definite disadvantage in Thai society. She’s not bitter, but believes that marrying another Thai man would only mean a loss of the independence and self-confidence that she worked hard to find.

You wouldn’t know it from the photo, but Waewnapa is 36 years old today! She’s roasting mushrooms for one of my favorite northern Thai foods: nam prik het.

Kao Man Gai

2007-03-05T02:21:00.000-08:00

We’ve lived in Thailand for almost two years now, and there are still things that are new to us, even in places we’ve visited many times before. This weekend we made a final shopping trip to Chiang Mai, where we met up with some fellow volunteers who introduced us to a fantastic little restaurant that we must have walked past dozens of times on previous trips. If only we had known!

On a similar note, a new food craving has taken over my last weeks in Thailand. It’s a food I saw other people eat frequently over the past two years, but only recently did I encounter a vegetarian version, and suddenly... the world seems different! I like it so much that I’m going to post the recipe, here, today.

In Thai, it’s called "Kao Man Gai." [And now, I must insert a sentence or two explaining how, after writing just the previous two paragraphs, I was seized with an overwhelming desire to eat some kao man gai sauce now, immediately, with some cucumber slices. So I’ve gone and arranged that and am now munching as I type.] "Kao" means rice, "man" means oil or fat, and "gai" means chicken. So, translated into English, this dish would be called something like "Chicken with rice cooked in chicken fat." Of course, I make it with tofu, so that’s what I’ll describe.

Start by mincing up large quantities of garlic and ginger. Boil the tofu, sliced, along with some minced garlic, ginger, and soy sauce, for about ten minutes. Remove the tofu, save the flavored water, and set both aside.

Saute some more of the minced garlic and ginger in your preferred fat. I was told by Pi Noy to use margarine, but the margarine around here frightens me with its ability to stay very solid in 90+ degree heat, so I go with liquid vegetable oil. (In America, I’ll probably use my preferred canola oil.) Add uncooked rice, still dry, and saute for several minutes. When the rice starts to change color, add the saved water from the boiled tofu, and more water as needed to cook. Cover and cook until soft.

For the sauce, put more heaps of minced garlic and ginger in a food processor. Add a couple of small fresh chili peppers (the ones that are about an inch or two long, and quite narrow). Add fermented soybean sauce, which comes in a bottle with cooked beans and looks orange or brown in color – I imagine it would be easy to find at an Asian grocery store. Add soy sauce and a bit of sugar, and hot water for thinning as needed. Puree it all together and test for flavor.

Slice a bowl full of cucumbers, and chop another bowl full of cilantro and green onion. Arrange all dishes on the table and let diners arrange their desired proportions on individual plates. Yum!

A Little Project Completed

2007-03-01T01:48:00.000-08:00

The world map project at my Monday-Thursday school is finally finished! It took a good three months, due to numerous school cancellations and schedule adjustments, but now it’s all painted and framed. Well, to be honest, there’s one small island that has yet to be labeled... a small island that has a large number of people wanting independence from the large country to whom the small island currently belongs... we still need to write that island’s name up there. And there are a few other small island nations that didn’t get drawn or labeled, due to a variety of circumstances. But aside from those items, it’s finished! (And with far fewer mistakes than last year’s map...)

So, the kids might not have learned too much English during my time here, and the teachers may or may not have picked up too many new teaching methods. But at least I can say I did some world maps. Now the kids can find all the countries that play in the World Cup soccer tournament each year.

The Return of Hot Water

2007-02-27T00:20:00.000-08:00

As I rode my bicycle along the river from school to the post office this afternoon, the smoke blowing into my face along with the hot wind, I realized that it will be several months before I am cool again! We had quite a respite over recent months. Beginning mid-December, when temperatures in our northern region started dropping below 55 degrees at night, we had a very comfortable "cold" season. Days were pleasantly warm, if not cool, and nights required layers of socks, sweatshirts, and thick comforters.

The drawback of the cold season, however, is that our showers got a little cold, too. Our little hot water heater is not too powerful, and it is no match for "wintry" weather. If we waited to shower until the sun had been up for an hour or two, and kept the water pressure very low, it usually managed to bring the very cold water up to a more standard room temperature. Combined with the cold air filling our house, this made for a series of illnesses (sore throats, head colds, etc) on our part. Needless to say, we were not bathing more than once a day if we could help it.

Now we’ve had three straight days of temperatures in the 90s, though, and as a result our shower has warmed up nicely. It’s hard to say what is more difficult to endure: pleasantly cold air temperatures with cold showers, or sweltering hot temperature with hot showers? I really can’t decide.

In any case, I know that we’ve got less than two months left in Southeast Asia. So while we might be finishing our Peace Corps service during the hottest months of the year, we can anticipate spring temperatures when we return to the USA in April. That will give us just enough time to recover before facing a hot, humid Minnesota summer!

[The photos, as you might guess, show our bathroom. Just for fun. Yes, the shower does just go all over the floor. That’s typical in Thailand for all but the wealthiest of homes.]

Personal Feature: Pi Noy

2007-02-25T21:25:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about how our friend at the school district office, Pi Noy, enjoys making lunch for us sometimes on Wednesdays. Today I’ll write a little more about Pi Noy herself.

Pi Noy, whose real name is Payom, was born one of six children in a village just outside of our town. Her father worked in and eventually owned an orchard nearby. Their house was on the same piece of land on which Pi Noy currently lives. She attended school in town, and grew to adulthood developing a very strong sense of values, including modesty, moderation, and responsibility towards home and family.

After finishing high school, Pi Noy attended teacher college in Isaan – the northeastern region of Thailand – and earned a teaching degree. While working in a school district office, she met a tall young teacher named Weera. Friends assured her it was the perfect match, as they shared the same powerful sense of responsibility and traditional values. They were married and had two sons, O and A, before moving back to Pi Noy’s home village. Today he is a principal at one of the local schools, and she works in the Policy & Planning department of the district office. Their sons, now teenagers, attend school far away, though one is close enough to visit many weekends.

I first met Pi Noy in April of 2005 at the office. She came to me with a list of Thai phrases she wanted help translating into English. We soon received a lunch invitation to her home, and she’s been cooking delicious Thai vegetarian food for me every since.

I have known few people as genuinely generous as she. She has welcomed nearly every one of our American guests for dinner at her home, and many have said it was one of their favorite meals in Thailand. When our flood happened in September of 2005, her house was not affected, but she went all out helping others who were. She came to our house on the second day, looked at our piles of muddy clothing, and without a word shoveled it all into the back of her pickup truck and sped home. I later learned that it took her up to ten hand rinses for each batch before enough mud was out of the clothing for it to go into the washing machine. Last year, Pi Noy and Por Or Weera hosted Chanon, a high school exchange student from Norway, for ten months. She so enjoyed being able to take care of someone, and guide them through Thai culture, that they’re hoping to do it again during the next school year.

Many years into the future, I know that I’ll look back at my time in Thailand and some of my fondest memories will be dinners at Pi Noy’s house. And we get to go again tomorrow, hooray!

[The first photo shows me with Pi Noy in her beautiful kitchen. The second shows Robert, Por Or Weera, and Pi Noy eating the specialty noodles of another northern province. The things that look like little meatballs are, for them, little pork meatballs, and for me, little vegetarian meatballs.]

Organics

2007-02-24T16:49:00.000-08:00

The Germans are lucky! Because of Europe’s rules about agriculture, pesticides, and imports, many Thai farmers or food producers who use organic methods are able to export products there. Organic farming is still not too common in Thailand, but those who do it are able to make a nice little profit.

When we lived with our host family in central Thailand, with our developing Thai language skills we were able to discover over a number of weeks that they participate in the export economy. Our host father owns 23 fields of baby corn, grown organically. Every day, truckloads of corn are harvested and brought in a pickup truck to the front of the house. Workers from the surrounding houses come to peel the corn by hand, earning a wage of 2 baht per kilo of peeled corn.

After the corn is peeled, our host parents sort it into three categories: beautiful, less beautful, and not beautiful. Kun Por drives the beautiful corn up the road to the packing plant every evening. The less beautiful corn is sold in Bangkok markets. The not beautiful corn is eaten at home.

We visited the packing plant several times, which was fun. We got to see all the different organic vegetables grown in the area, including asparagus, okra, and chilies. We also watched as the workers used special hand machines to wrap the properly arranged corn in plastic. We were told that the final product is shipped primarily to Japan and Germany.

Last week, we had three trainees from the newest group of Peace Corps Thailand volunteers come to stay with us for a couple of days, to see what the life of "real volunteers" is like. We took them to visit some local income generation projects north of our town, including the dried banana operation that we saw last November. The bananas had been temporarily displaced by huge piles of drying ginger, which smelled absolutely fantastic. The ginger is grown organically in another northern province, then purchased in bulk and brought here. The ladies in the photo are washing every piece by hand before it is sliced and laid out to dry in the sun. Our guide told us that, indeed, it will be shipped to Germany! I say again, those Germans are lucky!

Doi Pui (Bai Tiow Part II)

2007-02-21T07:05:00.000-08:00

After leaving the wedding on Saturday afternoon, we headed out with our landlords for some sightseeing. For about a year, they had been talking about wanting to talk us up into one of the higher mountain villages that dot the north of Thailand. Finally, we had our chance. We headed up past Doi Suthep (overlooking Chiang Mai city) to the Hmong village of Doi Pui,

Over past decades, the royal family of Thailand has sponsored a number of sustainable development projects in northern hill tribe areas. The general goal is to encourage hill tribes to move out of the opium trade and into safer, healthier economies. Doi Pui is one such example.

Up in the village, we visited the small museum and looked at some traditional artifacts and tools. We took photos in the opium gardens. We purchased handicrafts from several of the stalls along the windy roads. We admired the waterfalls.

We opted to skip the opportunity to pay 60 baht to dress up in traditional Hmong clothing for our photos in the gardens, however. Although it was clear that Doi Pui was managed and operated in a sustainable manner by the residents of the village, and not by the Thai government, we felt awkward about some of its elements. At one point, Ajaan Warangkana pulled me into a small structure where a tour group was listening to their guide explain what they were seeing. It seemed to be a replica of a house, and the English-speaking guide was pointing out the various spaces – sleeping area, cooking area, meat smoking area, etc. I couldn’t see much so I just translated the descriptions for Warangkana. When the group moved away and I was able to see inside, however, I realized that it was a REAL HOUSE CURRENTLY IN USE BY ITS RESIDENTS. A woman was cooking. Two kids were lying on a bench watching TV, surrounded by some very used-looking blankets.. Clothes were hanging on the line to dry. There we were, tourists, in someone’s real home. It was a very strange feeling, and Robert and I agreed that we wanted to quickly move back outside.

We couldn’t decide how we felt about the experience overall. On the one hand, in our position as tourists we were clearly supporting the economy of the village. I know that this kind of tourism can in many cases help communities to preserve their traditional cultures, because doing so has an economic benefit. On the other hand, at times it felt a little bit like walking through a zoo, except that the zoo had people instead of animals. I don’t feel comfortable seeing my fellow human beings this way.

As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I’ve had the opportunity to be part of "the real thing" while living in Thailand. I don’t just walk around like a tourist, looking at people’s culture and admiring or analyzing it. No, I’m living it, and wow, it’s real. All the good and bad parts mixed up together for two solid years. Nothing like the guidebooks.

We can’t all have this opportunity, though, and even I will probably only have it with a limited number of communities. (Our trip to Laos was clearly tourism-focused, but highly educational.) And certainly it must be better to have some exposure to other cultures, as a tourist, than to have none at all. Perhaps the best way to look at this issue is to say is that if I could learn something from the experience, and use it to be a better citizen of the world, then it has a value beyond its local economic benefits. And perhaps that’s good enough for me.

Chiang Mai Wedding (Bai Tiow Part I)

2007-02-18T06:29:00.000-08:00

The son of a teacher at one of Robert’s schools was getting married yesterday in a small village in Chiang Mai province, so we arose at 5:30am in order to travel there with our landlords. We arrived just after 10:00am, too late to see the monks doing the religious blessing or the groom’s family presenting the dowry to the bride’s parents for approval.

We were, however, able to participate in the community blessing portion of the wedding day. One by one or in pairs, guests approach the couple on knees and present an envelope with the wedding gift. The "puean jow sow" and "puean jow bao" – roughly equivalent to best man and maid of honor – collect the envelopes and give each guest a piece of white string. The guests then tie the string around the wrists of the bride and groom while giving blessings and hopes for the future.

We had met the groom twice before: once at his monk ordination in our town last April (with my sister Annie) and once at the World Garden festival in Chiang Mai city in December, for which he helped us purchase our tickets (with our friend Leah). As I tied string on the wrist of the groom and Robert tied it on the bride, he spoke our wish for them to have happy experiences. I added a wish for good health.

After all the guests had an opportunity to tie string, the meal was served: green curry with fish balls, spicy minced pork "laab" salad, stir-fried chicken with cashew nuts, "Yam Woon Sen" noodle-meat salad, and fresh fruit. The bride and groom visited each table to take photos and hand out favors – keychains with the King’s picture. Several of the retired female teachers at our table enjoyed singing karaoke, and they even convinced Robert to give a performance of "I Just Called to Say ‘I Love You.’" Shortly before 1pm, we changed our clothes, got back into our landlords’ car, and headed out for some sightseeing. (To Be Continued...)

"Ngan" Means Both "Work" and "Party" in Thai...

2007-02-15T06:25:00.000-08:00

It was one of those days...

Wednesdays are our "office days" at our site. We are based at the school district office, where we might make teaching materials or plan a teacher training. Sometimes we make visits to schools in the district that don’t usually have foreign teachers. This past Wednesday happened to be the "Corporate Civil Service Sports Day and Banquet" for various local employees. Since we were given free shirts to match the school district employee team, we thought we ought to attend.

The high school had cancelled classes for the day to allow the sports day celebrators to use its facilities. (Yes, you read that right.) We headed up there at 8am with Pi Noy, and then waited around for an hour until most of the rest of the participants arrived. All the teams lined up for the opening parade. Robert and I were given flags to carry in the school district section. As we listened to the marching band practice and watched the various drum majors and majorettes twirling their sticks, we agreed that it felt rather like being in high school again.

Robert and I, in matching shirts, with one of our majorettes:

Our friend At as drum major:

The parade finally began; we marched in formation across the field and listened to the remarks made in the opening speeches. We were reminded that to be healthy requires that we exercise 30 minutes per day, 4-5 days per week, and so on. The flag was raised, the runner completed his lap around the field and lit the torch, we did a last march around the field, and finally we were in the shade of our tent.

After just one short hour of foot races and volleyball, the partying started! By 11am, the karaoke music was playing, the grilled chicken was passed around, and the whiskey was flowing.

Some of the women started mixing up the lunch food, and Pi Noy hurried to make a vegetarian version for me. The main dish – in addition to the grilled chicken – was Yam Woon Sen, a spicy noodle salad. Most people ate it with a variety of processed meat slices. The photo shows my veggie tray on the far left, the regular Yam next, with crispy baked pig skin in the middle. Above the chicken is some green mango with chili dipping sauce, and on the far right is a large plastic cup of sticky rice. There was also spicy papaya salad (not pictured) made with crab cream for those who enjoy it, and oranges for dessert.

During lunch, Robert was called upon to fill out the men’s relay race team, so he willingly obliged. Here he is running down the field with a water balloon!

We left shortly after lunch because we had lots of work to do back at the office – we’re planning an English camp for 8 schools next week – and spent the afternoon in relative quiet. Pi Noy picked us up again at 6pm to take us to the banquet dinner. Of course, it was a Chinese meal, so she had brought along some salad for me to eat. Robert enjoyed the spicy grilled fish and the peanuts, and he said the vegetables with bacon weren’t bad. He did not like the boiled pork, the spicy fried meat salad, or most of the cold appetizers. He was too full for the chicken soup, and we managed to convey our tiredness well enough that we were taken home before the fried rice with pork arrived. Here’s a picture of him eating a well-flavored hot dog with chopsticks:

In addition to food, the banquet included karaoke, trophy presentations, and much conversation. All in all, yet another interesting day in the Thai education system.

Burning

2007-02-14T00:35:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again... the air is filled with smoke all across northern Thailand. I go jogging along the river or through the rice fields, and random piles of burning material will send off plumes of smoke that fill my lungs and cause major coughing.

At night, we can look around at the mountains surrounding our town and see orange flames along the hillsides. During the day, if we're riding in a car or bus along the highway, occasional fires will be so close to the road that we'll feel their heat as we pass by.

Much of what is being burned is the leftovers of the rice harvest. Also, some set fire to underbrush in the woods. Sometimes people are making charcoal.

The mountains that are so green and sharp all through the rainy season and November and December are now barely visible, due to the combination of smoke and dust from lack of rain. It's a completely different environment!

Personal Feature: Kun Por & Kun Maa

2007-02-11T06:51:00.000-08:00

During our first ten weeks in Thailand – our Peace Corps training – we spent two months living with a host family. Robert and I got pretty lucky with our family – some volunteers had less positive experiences – and yesterday we went back for our last visit with them before the end of our service. It’s a bit of a hike to get to their house, so we hadn’t been for a year. Many things had changed for them, but entering their home we felt again like the 30- and 27-year-olds we were when we first arrived in Thailand. For my second personal feature, I will talk a bit about Kun Por (host father) and Kun Maa (host mother).

Kun Por, whose real name is Somnuk, was one of six children born in a Chinese-Thai family in Central Thailand. His father was a ditch-digger. Kun Maa – real name Sujitra – is also one of 6 children, but her family is 100% Thai. Her father was a teacher in the community where we did our training and was well-respected in the area. When Somnuk arrived in town about 30 years ago, they fell in love and were married. Somnuk quickly built up a reputation as a hard worker who could be trusted, and within ten years he had been elected "poo-yai bahn", or head man, of the village. It was a life term, so he still continues as poo-yai today. He is among the very small number of Thai men who do not drink alcohol, which likely contributes to his high status.

Somnuk and Sujitra have two children. Their son, Mongkonchai, earned a masters degree in computer technology in Australia, where he has been living for several years. He has a Thai fiancee who is also studying a masters in Australia, and they will return here to be married in about six months. Their daughter is Anothai, and we’ve always been a bit confused about her story. During the time that we lived in the house, she worked for Toyota in Bangkok. Now, however, she has married a local farmer, and they are living with her parents and expecting a baby in April. We think there’s a bit more to the story but have hesitated to ask.

When we moved in, the household included four others: Kun Boo, Somnuk’s elderly father who couldn’t speak much; Pi Porn, a housekeeper in her 50's; Nong Lek, Pi Porn’s teenage daugher; and Watlunyoopa, Pi Porn’s young granddaughter. Pi Porn and her family left partway through our training because a relative of hers had become ill and she went to be the caretaker. Kun Boo died a little over a year ago.

The house is far from empty, though. In addition to Anothai and her husband, Sujitra now cares for two additional family members. Her father – Kun Daa – had his legs amputated last year and moved into the house from his nearby village. Sujitra does all his cooking, bathing, and dressing. Also, Somnuk and Sujitra have adopted a young orphan from the village. Mot Dit’s father, as Sujitra explained to us, visited too many woman, contracted HIV, passed it to his wife, and died. Mot Dit’s mother died also, leaving the 12-year-old with no relatives. Adoption of strangers is not common in Thailand, and I think it speaks very highly of the generosity of our former host parents that they have taken Mot Dit into their home and are raising her and sending her to school.

Although training was rough, we were very happy in our host family’s home. The food was delicious and the conversation good. Kun Por and Kun Maa took their responsibilities for teaching us how to survive in Thailand very seriously, and were constantly concerned with our comfort and well-being. During the many times during my first year that I wanted to quit and go home, I would think of them and remember how hard they had worked to see that we had all we needed when we were in their home, and I knew I didn’t want to let them down by going home early. They are people who ask for nothing for themselves, and only try to make the lives of those they love – their parents, their children, and the others who live with them – happier and richer. I’ll always remember their goodness, and be grateful that my introduction to Thailand was largely through them.

Dry Season

2007-02-06T23:38:00.000-08:00

Thailand has a 3-season climate. The hot season, with daily temperatures above 100F and nights rarely cooler than 85F, lasts from approximately March-April. Rainy season begins in June, in the north, and goes through September or October. Temperatures are still hot, but more bearable because of the cloud cover.

We're now in the dry season, or cool season as it's also known. It hasn't rained in our town since October. This year is unusually cold, and it's gotten down to 50F almost every night since mid-December. This is very cold if you don't have indoor heating!

The rice was harvested back in November in our area, and many of the fields are lying fallow until the next planting cycle, as shown in the brown-ish colored photo. Others are irrigated to grow other crops, including broccoli, potatoes, and tobacco. These two photos show the fields on either side of the road to my Monday-Thursday school. You can see how irrigation makes quite a difference!

Competition . . . Part II

2007-02-05T04:37:00.000-08:00

Today we spent the day at the school-district-wide subject area competitions. They took place an hour north of town, at one of the high schools, so we had to leave at the unusually early hour of 6:45am in order to be there in time for the opening parade.

Despite my previously noted dislike for the Thai educational system’s focus on competition, I am nonetheless rather proud to announce that Donut, a 6th grader I’ve taught for two years at my Monday-Thursday school, won the English speaking competition for upper elementary school. For several months I was rather hoping he’d at least win the local competition (which he did, last week) but I hadn’t quite expected him to win overall.

The reason I wanted him to win is a bit difficult to explain. As I said, I don’t really believe there should be a competitionl. However, although I often feel like I don’t accomplish much as a Peace Corps volunteer in Thailand, I am particularly proud of the work I’ve done at this one school. For two years, Ajaan Warangkana and I have built a solid co-teaching foundation. We have a fairly consistent classroom routine (for Thailand) and have done a decent job of building new knowledge on top of skills the students have previously mastered (unusual, for Thailand). The kids actually like speaking English, in random but appropriate bursts, outside of class.

So, I felt like having Donut (his nickname) win the contest would be an external vindication that student-centered teaching pays off in the long run. It might not be the fastest or the most shiny – in terms of having lots for teachers to "show off" after a short period of time, as teachers in Thailand are wont to do – but it’s the most effective, and, I hope, permanent. Donut had a good speech, which he had practiced for several days as all the students do. According to the judges, though, what set him well ahead of the competition was his ability to understand and answer questions he was asked that he hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare for ahead of time. I like to think that this is because student-centered learning allowed him to learn to actually USE English, instead of just memorizing or repeating it.

So, even though I would have thought my work at this school was somewhat successful even if he hadn’t won, the fact that he did win will perhaps mean that some other teachers in the district might be interested in knowing how it was done. And for that they’ll have to go to my co-teacher, since I’m leaving soon. I compliment myself, a bit, for trying to bring new teaching techniques to the school. I compliment Donut, of course, for working hard and being brave enough to compete. But mostly I compliment Ajaan Warangkana, for being willing to try them for two years and adapting them with a sort of Thai-Warangkana flair. Hopefully, she’ll keep teaching with that flair, even after I leave. She was pretty excited after Donut won today, so I’m hopeful.

Robert would like me to note that even though none of his English students won medals, they did come up and ask "How are you?" when I saw them at the competition today. And they could answer when I asked in return. ("I am cold," because at 55 degrees, it was really freezing.)

[The photo is from several months ago. The boys are showing off a guava tree. Donut is second from left in the back row.]

Charity, Service, and Giving

2007-02-03T18:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we attended a couple of ceremonies thanking the American Chamber of Commerce for their donations to two local schools, including one at which I co-teach. The 2005 flood destroyed the school’s library, and the ACC, with some individual and business partners, gave 60,000 baht (about $1500) to help buy new books and furniture. The event gave Robert and I a number of topics to discuss over dinner.

One thing Robert observed, considering yesterday’s event and other opportunities we’ve had to see charitable organizations in action, is that charity seems to work best when it’s designed close to home. World Vision, which I described in an earlier blog, has an office located right in our town and staffed by local people who know exactly what the needs of the community are. As a result, it’s extremely effective at using its available resources to target real needs for the students.

The ACC donation was a joint effort between local school staff and ACC staff in Bangkok. Our principal, realizing a need for library improvement, requested a grant, and American Chamber of Commerce provided the funds. School teachers then used the money to order books, furniture, and supplies. I would like to say that this was also an example of effective targeting of needs, however, in my opinion (which is just, of course, my opinion), while a school library is essential, many of the books purchased with the money are actually not suitable for young children or middle schoolers. But that’s just a small quibble.

Our Peace Corps project is an interesting subject. After spending nearly two years in our town, in schools with students, I have a pretty good sense of what their needs are. I would prioritize education about sanitation, health, nutrition, and life skills (critical thinking, decision-making), especially those that are effective in HIV prevention. English teaching would be near the bottom of my list, after math, Thai, and geography. I have frequently attempted to move in a few different directions. But, the Thai Ministry of Education, located hundreds of miles away in the tall buildings of Bangkok, determines our project goals, and they prefer that we teach English. The teachers have to conform to official requirements. And so we do.

Then, of course, there are the heavily funded and not necessarily effective organizations such as UNICEF that seem to spend lots of money on conferences and fancy cars for select groups of people, with little benefit trickling down to local communities. I can’t say that I know a lot about this, as I haven’t witnessed it first-hand, but I do know that a fancy car for NGO staff doesn’t do my kids a whole lot of good.

What does all this mean? I suppose those of us who give to charity just need to try to make sure that our money is being spent as we intend it to be, to the best of our ability. Sometimes there isn’t much we can do – if local school teachers decide to purchase boring Thai history books without any pictures with their library funds, against the recommendations of their Peace Corps Volunteer, you have to let it be. But I do think that most of us like to think that our money is not being wasted.

Which brings me to my final point. As a line of students was coming forward to receive their free notebooks and pencils from a computer company, the Thai woman next to me – an employee of the Office of Basic Education Commission – turned to me and said, "I don’t understand why foreigners give money to Thai school children. Why don’t rich Thai people do the same thing?" The woman in front of her, a Thai employee of the ACC, turned around and agreed. I wonder it too. I have heard that this is typical of Asian societies: providing assistance or charity to one’s own family is acceptable, even expected, but aiding strangers is seen as downright strange. What is it about Americans – and other classes of foreigners – that makes many of us want to reach out to people we have never or will never meet, to share a bit of what we have? A recent study found that American charitable giving correlates not with political affiliation or liberal/conservative ideology, but with religious participation. Is there something about religion in America that encourages us to be charitable? And why isn’t the same true in Thailand? I have my own ideas... but I’ll save them for another time.

Personal Feature: Ajaan Warangkana

2007-02-01T04:42:00.000-08:00

As I have 55 days remaining as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Thailand, I’ve decided to highlight a few of the people who have been most important in my time here.

When asked what I will miss about Thailand when I leave, the easiest answer is my co-teacher, Ajaan Warangkana. I teach with her at my Monday-Thursday school, and she has been my constant support here.

Warangkana was born in a small village about twenty miles north of our town. The youngest of three children, she was the daughter of the village leader and his wife, a shopkeeper. Most children in her village did not complete school past third grade, but because her father was relatively important and well-connected, she and her siblings were sent to attend school in town. At age 19, she finished teacher college and began working in schools near her hometown. Shortly after, she met Sawat, another teacher. They married and had two daughters, living for several years in her home village without electricity or running water.

Twenty years ago, they built a house in our town. When their daughters were old enough, they were sent away to school in the city, returning home on weekends or during school breaks. Sawat became a principal and rose to prominence. He is one of three people in our province to have been "knighted" by the King. Now, one daughter is finishing college in Bangkok. The other is currently living in America and plans to study a masters degree in teaching.

During my first interactions with Ajaan Warangkana, I wasn’t sure what to make of her. She seemed intimidating – stern and formal. It was only after a few weeks of teaching together, and living just two houses apart (she and Sawat are our landlords), that I began to feel comfortable with her. In reality, she is quite different from my first impressions. She is giggly, opinionated, and easy to talk to.

In September of 2005, as I was explaining to her why, at a school district teacher training, it had bothered me that the audience started questioning Robert about what types of Thai women he preferred, we had our first real deep conversation. She told me that when we first met, she had been afraid to talk to me because I was so quiet and she was shy about her English skills. (Her English is actually very good.) I told her about my initial intimidation. We laughed about each being wrong about the other. Since then, we’ve had many a conversation discussing our different cultures, interpretations of gender roles and differences, families, and, of course, Thai education. We don’t always agree, but it has been wonderful to have someone to talk to within easy reach.

If I leave Thailand feeling like I’ve accomplished only one thing, it will be my friendship with Warangkana.

[If we look a bit hot and worn out in the photo, it’s because it was over 100 degrees that day. And look at the clothes we had to wear!]

Competition... Again?

2007-01-29T23:56:00.000-08:00

Before I came to Thailand, I had no idea that there could be so much formal competition in one school year. In America, of course, we have spelling bees, geography bees, and numerous sports and games during various seasons. For the most part, however, these take place outside school hours – especially the practices – and teaching continues as usual.

Not so here. The school year runs from May to March, and includes a bewildering assortment of contests. December is when things really get going, though. At each school, students representing the different grade levels (pre-school, grades 1-3, and grades 4-6) are selected to represent their school in a multitude of subjects and activities. English, Thai, math, and science, of course. Art (clay sculpture, drawing, painting, fruit sculpture, etc), garden design, and poetry. Thai pop singing, English pop singing, Thai traditional dance, and pop dancing. And of course, sports (soccer, volleyball, betong, dakrow, and track), which require their own competition days.

Student spend day after day practicing at school. Classes are cancelled, of course, and at many schools this means that those students who aren’t competing in any subject spend their time running around the playground. Teachers don’t teach, because they are coaching the competitors or attending meetings to get information about contest details.

Finally, the local level academic and sports competitions take place. Last week, our town schools competed from Wednesday through Friday. This week, the village schools are competing today and tomorrow. It’s a fairly large operation. (These days did not include the sports.) Winners will go on next week to compete at the school district level. Winners from there will compete at the provincial level, and up on until reaching the national level.

On the one hand, perhaps there’s nothing wrong with encouraging some competition in education. Kids who are skilled can get some recognition and experience. Parents can cheer for their kids and their community. On the other hand, it seems ridiculous to me to essentially stop teaching as early as January. Also, some of the contest categories are, in my opinion, completely inappropriate for elementary school students. Namely, the "dancer" competition.

I think it’s great that a large number of students learn traditional Thai dancing. However, in recent years, kids are learning and competing in a new style of dance. A style that, if I had a small daughter, I wouldn’t want her to do in her own house, much less on a stage in a skimpy costume in front of half the neighborhood. Thai people call this style of dancing "dancer," which I guess is some adapted language from America, except that in America, no school child could dance like this at anything remotely resembling a school event.

So, last Friday, I suffered through a good six hours of watching young girls (ages 5-12) shake their hips seductively. Most of them don’t have hips yet, of course, but you wouldn’t have known that from the costumes. I’m not sure why I didn’t just walk out, but my school was participating, after all. At one point, during a particularly disturbing dance by a group of 6th graders, I asked my co-teacher, "When your daughter gets to be that age, will you want her to dance like this?" "Of course," she responded. "Thai people aren’t good at showing their emotions. This helps girls learn confidence." Since the music was blaring, I really had no good response.

[The photos here are actually from the 2006 town school sports competitions. Lest anyone think I’m overreacting, let me make it clear that these costumes are nothing compared to the "dancers."]

Meditation

2007-01-28T16:57:00.000-08:00

Both my schools are "Buddhist Way" schools. "Buddhist Way" is a current educational initiative in Thailand aimed at teaching students about moderation, thoughtful action, and diligence. It has a variety of interesting implementations.

At both schools, as well as at both of Robert's schools (which are not actually "Buddhist Way" schools), students participate in daily meditation. After lunch and noon hour recess, they gather in the hallways for several minutes of silent reflection, legs crossed and hands in the proper position.

Because Thai kids are pretty much like kids anywhere, though, many of them enjoy this opportunity to make faces at their friends and throw little bits and pieces of things at each other if the teachers aren't watching. I usually enjoy the opportunity to open Newsweek for a few minutes.

Wednesday Lunches

2007-01-26T17:39:00.000-08:00

Sometime during our early weeks at our site, I was sitting at a desk at the school district office and a woman came up to me. She introduced herself as "Pi Noy" and asked me a list of rather complex English questions. Upon further conversation, and discovering that I was a vegetarian, she invited Robert and I to her home for a vegetarian lunch. I can't remember what it was, but it was absolutely delicious.

For nearly two years now, Pi Noy has from time to time made lunch for us on Wednesdays, our office day. She never makes the same food twice. We've had kao soi curry, spicy tofu "laab" salad, "rad na" (noodles with gravy) over omelettes, and lots of other fancy dishes. Shown in this photo is a recent meal of eggrolls with peanut sauce. Pork-filled for Robert, and tofu-filled for me. I ate way too many!

Noni & Mimi

2007-01-22T18:30:00.000-08:00

On Friday night, I was chopping garlic for the kidney beans and two small creatures made their way towards our patio. Not wanting to scare them away, I quietly got some kids' books off our shelf, carried them outside, and set them on the bench. The books were instantly snatched, perused, loudly discussed, and played with.

Sunday evening while I was chopping garlic for the lentils, the same two small creatures approached. This time, when finished with the books, they came into the house and looked at our photos and cards on the walls. Robert got out a geography kit that we were given a while back, and they had great fun playing with the kid-friendly binoculars.

Both girls live two houses down from us, at the home of Kroo Deeah and his wife Pi Min. Mimi, the older girl (grade 2), is the daughter of Pi Min's sister, who I've never met. Noni, age 3 (though nearly as big as Mimi), is the daughter of Pi Min's daughter, who I've also never met. In other words, Mimi lives with her aunt & uncle, and Noni lives with her grandparents, and this is a total of 4 people living in the same house.

I was happy about the visits, because for nearly two years Noni has simply run away in fear anytime I've acknowledged her presence. We seem to have reached a turning point in our neighborly relations over the weekend, so that now she feels free to run in and out of our house at her pleasure. It was quite delightful to be making dinner with the sounds of two girls reading and playing.

Chinese Celebration Meal

2007-01-18T05:13:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, a Chinese meal was served for the Teachers’ Day lunch. Chinese meals of a certain style are often served at important social functions in Thailand – weddings, housewarming parties, etc. They are very different from what a typical Thai meal for a similar occasion might be.

Last year, I asked my co-teacher if she liked the food served at these meals. She told me that she doesn’t, and that most people in our area don’t. When I asked her why it was served, then, if people would prefer to eat Thai or northern Thai food, she replied that it had to do with status – the Chinese meal is a sign of wealth, so serving one gives the impression that you are well off. (This would explain the 100 baht per person price tag for yesterday’s lunch, which all the teachers were expected to pay. Peace Corps volunteers were served free.)

Anyway, here is a description of yesterday’s meal, which is fairly typical of what you would find at such an occasion:

The first course includes a plate of appetizers, mostly different types of meat. Yesterday, it included pork dumplings, processed pork, baked jerky-style pork, picked eggs, and some pineapple and pickled ginger in the center. Robert says that the jerky-style pork and the dumplings were "pretty good." I refrained from eating any of it, though I did try a pickled egg once about a year ago at the command of a teacher from Robert’s school. I thought it was pretty nasty.

Yesterday’s second course, not pictured, was called "fish stomach soup." However, my co-teacher explained that these days it no longer includes real fish stomach. Instead, it had chicken and pig skin. Robert thought it was "pretty good."

The third course included two dishes: fried rice with pork, and spicy shrimp and pig skin salad. The fried rice was called "American fried rice" because it had raisins added. (I told my co-teacher that we don’t put raisins in fried rice in America, and she laughed.) I should point out here that all of the courses are served on one large plate in the center of the table, and diners serve themselves into small bowls using chopsticks or spoons. Robert says that the spicy shrimp and pig skin salad was "tasty, with a nice mix of flavors and a crunchy texture," and the fried rice "did justice neither to fried rice nor to raisins."

Next came a plate of stir-fried vegetables with shrimp and a flaming pot of tom yam soup. "Tom yam" is a spicy soup made with lemongrass and kaffir lime leaf. It is traditionally made with seafood but can be made with other meats, or mushrooms or tofu, as well. Yesterday’s tom yam included squid, fish meat, and processed fish balls. Robert isn’t a big tom yam fan, and thought that one bowl was enough. (I like it when it’s made vegetarian.)

A whole steamed fish, also on a flaming plate, came next, which Robert reports was "ok." And last came a plate of sliced fruit, including guava, papaya, and orange sections. This, finally, I did enjoy a small bit of. I really like guava.

So there is a description of what you might find at a Chinese celebration meal in Thailand. To our great relief, this one did not include Robert’s all-time least favorite food here: chicken feet!

Teachers' Day: A Time for Reflection and Revelry...

2007-01-17T04:23:00.000-08:00

Today, January 16, was Teachers’ Day in Thailand. This yearly holiday includes merit-making and fun for educators all across the country. It was our second Teachers’ Day here, and no less interesting than the first.

The merit-making ceremony was scheduled to begin at 8:00, and since we were wearing fancy clothes and hauling two large bags of oranges, our landlord (a prominent local principal) picked us up a few minutes beforehand. We arrived at the school district office and laid out our wares next to the other teachers’ offerings. When the group of 51 monks arrived, they circled the tables, and each teacher carefully placed one of their pre-prepared food items into the alm’s bowl of each monk. Although as non-Buddhists we felt no need to make merit for our future reincarnations, Robert placed our oranges into the bowls while I took photographs, in order to show some participation.

When the monks were finished with their rounds and the white canvas bags were bulging with sticky rice, fruit, ramen noodles and canned sardines, we all moved into the large meeting hall for the next ceremony. To begin, the monks did some chanting and prayers for about an hour, and the crowd of teachers sang a solemn song enumerating moral virtues. This was followed by an awards ceremony. I am pleased to report that both of my co-teachers received awards, one for excellence in teaching social studies and the other for library reading program development, but I didn’t have anything to do with either.

Thais love to take photographs, and the advent of the digital camera has only increased their enthusiasm. Since there was about an hour-long gap between the conclusion of the awards ceremony and the serving of lunch, that time was of course filled with a hyper, crazy photo session. Every possible combination of teachers, principals, teachers and principals, teachers and Peace Corps volunteers, teachers and principals and Peace Corps volunteers, principals and Peace Corps volunteers, and on and on, was duly recorded on memory chips.

Finally, it was time for lunch, and a good thing because I was quite hungry. But oh, disappointment! It was a Chinese party meal of which I could eat nothing (description to follow tomorrow). Oh well. The whiskey was poured, the young hired women in increasingly revealing outfits began singing karaoke, and the atmosphere turned into one of loud revelry. We escaped with my co-teacher at 1pm and I came home to eat a cheese sandwich, but when Robert went to the market just before 5pm to buy our vegetables for dinner, he ran into a few inebriated teachers who were just leaving the festivities. They reported that the party was still rolling.

Sand Sea Resort Review

2007-01-17T04:09:00.000-08:00

In the life of many a Peace Corps Volunteer, there comes that moment when parents come to visit, and they finally treat you to many of the luxuries you have not been able to afford on your living stipend in your country of service. Such it was for us at the Sand Sea Resort on Railay Beach West in Krabi, which we visited last August, courtesy of my mother.

Railay is only accessible by boat; for us, a longtail boat chartered by the resort. We were whisked away across the water, past brilliant green karst bluffs and into a light rainstorm. Adventure! Upon our arrival at Railay, we followed a cart full of our bags over a short path and into the Sand Sea gardens.

Bungalows line either side of a well-tended path meandering towards the pool, and a moment later, the beach. Although our bed was a bit hard, the sparkling clean shower and comfortable wooden porch chairs more than made up for it. Each morning we enjoyed a buffet breakfast overlooking the water.

For meals other than breakfast, however, I recommend eating elsewhere. Railay Bay Resort next door has better food and better service. Due to Muslim ownership, neither resort serves alcohol, but there are plenty of small beachside bars to fill the gap.

Days can be spent swimming, snorkeling (many guided trips are offered from shops around the resort, including the fantastic "sunset snorkel" ), rock climbing, wandering over to Phra Nang Beach, or just sitting by the pool. In the evenings, you might run into an impromptu game of beach volleyball at sunset, or perhaps walk the five minutes over to Railay Beach East for bar movies and a livelier crowd. There’s no rush to life at Railay – it’s all about enjoying the laid-back, mellow atmosphere. Pure vacation.

Sand Sea Resort has onsite laundry and a mini-mart, as well as relatively affordably internet access.

Funeral

2007-01-16T00:01:00.000-08:00

Last night we went to a funeral for the son of a school principal in our town. Age 24, an engineering graduate, he committed suicide last week in Bangkok. We’ve been to many funerals in Thailand, but they’ve all been for old people, so this had some similarities and some differences. [Note: By "funeral," I am referring to what we would think of as a "wake" in America. In northern Thailand, up to seven nights of funeral are sponsored by different community groups and take place at the house. After the funeral nights are finished, there is a daytime cremation ceremony at the local crematorium. Robert has been to a cremation, but I have not.]

Last night’s funeral was sponsored by the school district, the police department, the hospital, and one of the outlying villages, so many teachers and principals were in attendance. The basic format was the same as the other funerals I have attended: everyone was dressed in black and white; a photo display of the deceased was prominently set; representatives of each group presented bouquets and money to the family in front of the casket; the monks arrived after 8pm and did long chantings and a sermon; the formal ceremony was followed by snacks (in this case, oranges, banana chips and Thai herbs juice); and there was little display of sadness or grief.

This was a much more somber event than the other funerals I have attended, though. Instead of chatting loudly during the sermon, most people seemed to be listening, or at least sitting quietly. There were few cell phones ringing, and only one extended phone conversation. I’m not usually able to hear much of the monk’s preaching because of all the distraction, but last night much of it was very clear, and I clarified main points with a Thai friend afterward.

The sermon seemed to focus specifically on suicide and on what we in America would call depression. Robert and I agreed, later, though, that we wish it could have had a different slant. I don’t see how blaming the young man for his sadness, or implying that he hadn’t done enough good deeds, is respectful of the family or of anyone else who might be similarly suffering. I think that part of the issue is that in Thailand, depression doesn’t "exist." It’s an unacceptable state. (We once heard a Thai person comment that she couldn’t understand why someone who had graduated from college and had a good job could be suffering from depression, because she clearly had enough food to eat.) It made us appreciate the wealth of resources that exist in America for people who have mental or emotional problems.

It was also hard to hear that in Thai Buddhism, a person who has committed suicide is permanently removed from the circle of death and rebirth, and will therefore never have an opportunity to reach Nirvana. Most other sins can be forgiven, it seems, even if you have to be reborn as a lowly animal for a while, but not suicide. Though not a believer in reincarnation myself, I feel a great deal of sympathy for a family who, in addition to grieving for the loss of their loved one, doesn’t even have the comfort of believing they might be moving on to a better place.

We know of three suicides within our small community of teachers, principals, and their families – two of which occurred since our arrival in this town, and one that was not too many years before. All were individuals in their 20s or 30s. It seems to me to be an high number for such a small group of people. Part of me wonders if the attitude towards depression in Thai society is one that results in a higher incidence of suicide, because people are not able to find help for what could be a treatable condition. To quote Robert, the experience last night left us with mixed feelings: sadness for the family who lost their son, some anger at the monk for the content of his sermon, and gratefulness to be part of a society – Americans – in which depression can be recognized and treated.

Children's Day

2007-01-14T06:43:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was National Children’s Day in Thailand. I think the original purpose was to focus on kids: their potential, their right to be treated well, their child-like qualities, etc. I attended celebrations at my school on Friday and at the local government office yesterday.

Many of the activities were pleasant to observe. Kids might volunteer to go up on stage and answer questions, such as, "How do you help out at your house?" or "What do you want to be when you grow up?" They always got prizes for being brave enough to give an answer. A group of my fifth and sixth grade boys did a traditional northern Thai dance at the government office on Saturday morning that I thought was very impressive. Not only were they good dancers for being so young, but they also showed that they had been working hard on it. (See photo.)

Other activities were less enjoyable. Many of the kids’ performances involved heavily made-up girls in mildly provocative outfits, lip synching to Thai pop music and shaking their hips far too suggestively. I don’t know why this is so popular in Thailand, and I don’t know why it is done at elementary school. (With some reluctance, I’ve put up a photo of one of these groups of girls. I don’t really like to promote it in any way, but I wanted to show an example. It’s from among the less suggestive outfits I’ve seen.)

On the whole, though, it was nice to see kids in Thailand getting a little more recognition and approval than they usually do. At school, teachers often treat kids as an afterthought or even a nuisance – school is really more about the status of the teachers than about the education of the students. (Some schools are worse about this than others.) But on Children’s Day, it seemed like for one day the kids got to be front and center. That was a refreshing change.

Sponsorship

2007-01-11T00:05:00.000-08:00

Before I say anything, let me emphasize that this is NOT a sales plug! My goal is just to inform.

Back in the USA, I often saw commercials on late-night television for charitable organizations of one sort or another, trying to convince viewers to sponsor a child in a third-world country. I never really bought into those things, because who knows where the money ends up?

But as it turns out, there is an office of the Christian organization World Vision here in our little northern Thai town, and they do a lot of good work. At my Monday-Thursday school (pictured), all of the students are sponsored by families through World Vision. At my Tuesday-Friday school, about two-thirds of the students are sponsored.

What does this mean for my kids? Every year, World Vision buys their notebooks, pencils, and other basic supplies. World Vision pays for their school uniforms. If you look closely at the boys' black and orange jackets, you'll see that they have a World Vision label -- the sponsored kids sometimes get additional items of clothing for certain types of weather. World Vision buys books and sometimes even furniture for the school library and other rooms. Last year, when my Tuesday-Friday school was extensively damaged by the flood, World Vision paid for many replacement items.

Additionally, World Vision will occasionally pay for a field trip for the students. Last year I went with 6th graders from six different local schools to a number of sites around our province, with all fees, transportation, and meals paid for by World Vision. They give scholarships to several students every year for study at high schools in our provincial capital. And, my co-teacher informed me today, they hold a World Vision football (soccer) competition every year.

I'm not trying to convince anyone to sponsor a kid through World Vision. However, I did want to point out that if anyone was considering doing so anyway, I can vouch that it really does work!

Just for Fun

2007-01-09T18:27:00.000-08:00

For a little glimpse of what I do on a typical school day, here are some shots of flashcards and student work. The flashcards, as I'm sure is obvious, are "People Adjectives." The kids have a lot of fun with these.

The student work has photos that the kids selected from a folder of magazine cut-outs. After choosing a photo, they "interview" the person in the picture in English. Thus, if you were able to read some of the questions and answers, you might see that the skier's favorite sport is "skiing" and Queen Elizabeth II's favorite food is "chocolate."

Blessings

2007-01-07T06:26:00.000-08:00

Back in November, we helped do an English camp at our friend Sean’s site. During a break time, we were hanging out at the home of one of Sean’s counterparts. An old man in the house wanted to give us a blessing before we left.

He tied a string around the left wrist of each one of us while murmuring his wishes that we have good health, good travels, and good remaining time in Thailand. He was very sweet and sincere.
Typically, when you have a string ceremony like this in Thailand, you wear the string until it falls off. The one I currently have on my wrist is from our COS conference in December.

If you can’t tell from the photos, it was yellow shirt day at English camp.

A Great Group of Kids

2007-01-04T04:24:00.000-08:00

There are times when being a Peace Corps volunteer in Thailand starts to feel rough. Emotionally... It's a difficult culture to adapt to, the weather is challenging (whether hot or cold), and sometimes I don't feel like I'm accomplishing all that much at my "job."

But the 5th and 6th graders at my Monday-Thursday school never fail to bring my spirits up a bit. Perhaps they'll insert random English words we've studied into an otherwise Thai conversation in an amusing way. Perhaps they'll joke about the "kaab moo" (baked pig skin) that Robert offered them one day. Perhaps they'll make fun of my daily breakfast -- oatmeal -- which they find to be amusing both gastronomically and linguistically.

Or perhaps, like today, during a lesson on comparative adjectives, they'll repeatedly insist that OF COURSE I am more beautiful than Tata Young, the Thai singer. And they'll laugh when I tell them that's worth a few bonus points. But they said it even without the bonus points... so there!

The photo was taken on our field trip to the Mae Mo Power Plant in November. Ajaan Warangkana, my co-teacher, is posing in front of the yellow flowers with the kids.

Small Town Life

2007-01-02T03:35:00.000-08:00

Sometimes traveling to different parts of Thailand gives us a new perspective on our little town. This past weekend we visited Pai, a hippie-mountain town in Mae Hong Son province, with a group of volunteers. More on that trip later, but for now I’d like to share a couple of rambly tidbits about our rural town.

A guidebook I once read noted that violent movies are popular in Thailand, and the farther away you get from big cities, the more violence you find on TV. This is an accurate description of where we live. Because there isn’t much to do here – no shopping, no movie theater, no major sporting events – entertainment tends to be limited to TV, cockfighting, and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Frequent holidays and festivals are occasions for variety, and of course for more alcohol as well.

There are many good sides to being out of the big city. We know our neighbors well. It’s easy to get around by bicycle. The air is clear, aside from the smoke from burning fields. I would not have given up the opportunity to experience small town life.

We’re set in a valley surrounded by farmland and then mountains. For security reasons, I’m not allowed to name the area on this blog, but I’ve included a couple of photos from this evening’s bike ride. You might notice the cell phone towers, the smoke rising from harvested rice fields and the Casa Que Pasa t-shirt. Oh, we miss burritos.

Cold in Thailand

2006-12-27T17:08:00.000-08:00

Over the last week our temperatures in Thaialnd have taken an amazing plunge. Our thermometer has been consistently reading in the upper 40s at night. This is very cold when you have no indoor heating! It's also very cold when you have a very weak hot water heater, so showers can be a chilling experience. Washing dishes is rather like bathing your hands in ice.

We've taken to sleeping in long pants, hats, and hooded sweatshirts, covered by layers of blankets. Two layers of socks are necessary for protection from our cold tile floor. We're starting to wonder if our upbringing in the northern climes has been completely useless, as we seem to have no tolerance for this weather.

I don't really mind the cold now, though, because I know that in just a few weeks I'll be roasting hot again.

Christmas Eve at the Mission

2006-12-26T00:36:00.000-08:00

Located a couple kilometers outside our town is a Catholic mission center run by a group of Italian priests and nuns. They serve hill tribes living in the surrounding mountains, conducting Sunday masses on a rotating schedule and helping giving kids a chance to have a regular education. We've enjoyed attending Sunday services from time to time. The Italians speak Thai better than English, so that's how we communicate!

Twice a year, for Christmas and Easter, the hill tribe people come into the Center for mass. On Sunday evening, after returning from Bryn's Christmas Eve party for volunteers, we rode our bikes out to take part.

It was freezing cold -- I was wearing a turtleneck, a sweatshirt, a hat, and a hooded fleece jacket by the end of the service, and still shivering! -- but nonetheless we enjoyed seeing the many different people. Some were similarly bundled up, but some were wearing their local clothing. During the offering, pairs of girls and women in matching outfits carried up baskets of flour, grapes, and flowers, which was quite lovely. I was proud that I understood the majority of the Thai sermon, but when the petitions were read in Hmong I couldn't follow.

After mass, we rode back home in the dark cold, lit up our tree, and made spaghetti. A very pleasant Christmas Eve.

Train Travel

2006-12-21T02:40:00.000-08:00

One of our favorite modes of travel in Thailand is the train. We usually ride second class when traveling between Bangkok and our site. It's about a ten-hour trip, but usually fairly comfortable, with air-conditioning and two coffee breaks.

After our day in Bangkok, Leah accompanied us on a train ride north. The photo was taken at Sam Sen station in Bangkok as we were waiting for the train to arrive. You can see a monk waiting nearby, a Thai flag, and if you look closely, some Thai writing. You might also notice that Robert is wearing a sweatshirt -- a cold spell has come across Thailand, and we're freezing! (Leah, coming from America, doesn't find it quite as cold as we do.)

Wat Arun

2006-12-20T06:14:00.000-08:00

Our friend Leah is visiting us here this week and on Monday we had a pleasant day in Bangkok. The weather wasn't too hot and though we were all tired from our 2am return from the airport, we managed to keep our energy going until after dinner.

As our 15th visitor, Leah knows we've spent lots of time showing family and friends around the major sites of Thailand. She offered to forego a few of the tourist "highlights" so that all three of us would be able to see something new, so we chose Wat Arun, the temple that is featured on the 10-baht coin. We had gazed at it across the river many times and it always looked appealing.

Wat Arun is a Khmer-style wat, and the biggest surprise was realizing that the grey towers we had seen so many times from a distance are actually, when viewed up close, composed of thousands and thousands of tiny colored ceramic pieces. Here are Robert and Leah in front of one of the multi-colored structures. The Chao Praya river and Grand Palace temple are in the background.

Christmas Visit

2006-12-16T00:09:00.000-08:00

I invited students from my Monday-Thursday school over to see our Christmas decorations this Saturday afternoon, and it was a big hit!

Robert's cousin Karin sent us a singing wreath, which welcomed the kids when they arrived on the porch. They found it hilarious and spent a lot of time over the course of the next hour and a half trying to figure out how the motion sensor worked -- trying to sneak past it without setting it off. It played pretty constantly anyway.

They admired the presents under the tree, played butting heads with the musical reindeer antlers, and ate some chocolate pieces I had found at the store up the street. When they had seen enough of Christmas, they moved on to exploring the rest of our house -- books, magazines, photos, large-sized shoes, shortwave radio, Western bathroom, and maps.

It was fun to be able to share a little Christmas cheer with someone in our town!

The Pink House

2006-12-15T20:05:00.000-08:00

This is our house in Thailand. It's a one-story, three-room house. (One main room and two bedrooms.) And it's very pink! If I had included a photo of the bathroom, you would have seen that it, too, is very pink.

This photo was taken just a week or so after we moved in. I think things look a bit messier now -- the lawn is a little overgrown and patchy, the potted plants are relocated to a corner and replaced by bicycles, and the laundry is usually hanging on the patio. The pink paint is also a little faded in dirty in some areas as a result of last year's flood.

It's a very comfortable little house for two people to live in for two years!

Party Meat

2006-12-12T23:38:00.000-08:00

Before coming to Thailand, I expected it to be something of a vegetarian’s paradise. All those fresh fruits and vegetables! Plenty of soy and tofu! Just like at the Thai restaurant down the block from our apartment!

In reality, though, I have found the Thai people to be some of the most gung-ho meat eaters I’ve ever known. No meal is considered complete, it seems, without a large portion of pork, beef, or chicken. In most northern Thai dishes, in fact, the meat is the main component of the meal – simply chopped and seasoned with locally grown herbs, and eaten with sticky rice. Tofu, if eaten, is usually mixed with fish or pork. I have yet to meet another vegetarian in our town. The closest I have come was about 20 months ago, when I met a teacher from another school district who eats vegetarian on "Buddhist days" – approximately once every eight days, according to the cycle of the moon.

When I say that I am vegetarian, most people assume that either a) I eat meat most of the time, excepting a special days, or b) I am probably crazy. When I tell them that I haven’t eaten meat for over 11 years, they look momentarily befuddled, and then decisively pronounce that that’s why I have such good skin.

On Sunday evening, we celebrated Robert’s birthday at the house of some school district friends. The meal was a typical Thai celebration meal for a large group of people, called "sukiyaki." (I think the concept originally comes from somewhere else in East Asia.) A large cooking device, slightly resembling a wok, is kept constantly heated. Diners sit in a circle around the heat source. Different bowls are scattered about containing a variety of ingredients, usually including raw pork, thin rice noodles, chopped vegetables, and chili sauce. Each diner has their own mini-bowl and set of chopsticks. Diners take turns using their chopsticks to arrange the meat on the heat source for cooking. A large bowl of broth is also kept constantly on the heat source, and diners will add scoops of noodles or vegetables as they desire. When satisfied as to doneness, diners will transfer cooked ingredients to their own bowl and then eat them with the chili sauce. It’s a very festive way to eat!

Sunday night, the main ingredients included fresh pork, processed pork balls, processed fish "tofu," processed shrimp "tofu," eggs, rice noodles, cauliflower and water spinach. I had my own separate bowl of pre-mixed noodles, boiled vegetables, and regular soy tofu (not shown in photos). It was a chilly night, so the heat in the middle of the mat kept us warm as we talked and ate for over three hours!

COS Conference

2006-12-09T22:25:00.000-08:00

Last week we traveled to Cha-am, three hours south of Bangkok, for our Completion of Service (COS) conference. 50 volunteers arrived in Thailand on January 14th, 2005, and 45 of us made it to this conference – an impressive statistic!

Our last date of service will be March 27th, 2007, so to help us wade through paperwork, medical tests, packing, and planning during these last three months, Peace Corps puts on the COS Conference. Over the course of three days, we spent time reflecting on our original goals for our time in Thailand and what the highs and lows of our experience have been. They gave us lots of information about our upcoming doctor and dentist appointments, how to deal with future health issues resulting from PC service, buying our plane tickets to go home, and how to find RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) groups in America. We also spent lots of time working on our resumes and talking about graduate school applications, job searching, and networking. Several former volunteers from different countries who are now living in Thailand came and talked to us about what we might expect our post-PC experience to be like.

There was lots of laughter, as well as a few tears. Time on the beach, in the pool, and at the ping-pong table. Buffet meals, "coffee breaks," noodle stands on the street at night. A wedding invitation. Nervousness and excitement about what lies ahead.

The photo doesn’t show the whole group, but if you look closely you might find both Robert and me.

Hitchhiking!

2006-12-01T05:54:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, I made reference to our disappointing travel over last weekend. Perhaps I spoke a little too strongly in referring to it as "calamitous," because we got several concerned inquiries from home wondering what happened. I have now edited out that wording, and I will explain a bit more about why we felt it wasn’t our best travel weekend ever. Please know, though, that several days later we have pretty much forgotten all about it!

Thailand is at a fascinating developmental stage, in which large numbers of the population live in poverty – including a majority of the students we teach – while large numbers also live very well, in fact, quite comfortably compared to the United States. In addition, Thailand’s huge tourist industry has quite an impact. Most tourists, of course, are quite wealthy compared with most Thais, and they pour lots of money into the economy.

Our Peace Corps living allowance is designed to enable us to live at the level of the people in our community, in particular the people with whom we work. What this means practically, for us, is that we are much wealthier than the families of most of the students we teach, but nowhere near as wealthy as the teachers we teach with, except the very young teachers who have just started in the civil service. We are "poor" compared with the tourists, even the backpackers, which occasionally causes frustration when we travel because Thai people expect us to have bottomless pockets of cash like the other foreigners they have encountered.

In any case, the area we traveled to last weekend – the Golden Triangle area in northern Chiang Rai province – is not designed for people with limited budgets. We had assumed that, like most places in Thailand, we could use local transportation to make our way between destinations for an affordable price. As it turns out, it’s not worth visiting that area unless you have 1) your own vehicle, or 2) a large budget, useful for renting vans and chartering songtaews. Even the Thai tourists we saw traveled almost exclusively in rental vans, hired complete with driver. Public transportation was infrequent and difficult to find.

As a result, we spent more money than we had planned on last-try transportation, including an extra 100 baht apiece for a "VIP" bus that we hoped would get us to a particular destination on time but didn’t. We walked at least 3 kilometers along highways, not in itself a long distance but one that feels considerably longer when you are walking in the sun with a large backpack on your back. We skipped a couple of meals. And we "hitchhiked" twice, once in the back of a pickup along the Mekong River during the day, and once in the back of a station wagon on the highway back to Chiang Rai at night. And for all that, we never did reach our primary destination: a Chinese mountaintop village.

But, six days later it doesn’t seem as bad as it did then. We did enjoy the Hall of Opium museum, the shiny statues at the Golden Triangle, and of course, our dinner by the Mekong. And we got to see a nice fat rat digging through our bags in the middle of the night at our guest house in Chiang Saen. (Avoid Gin’s House unless you want a similar experience.) So, unpleasant though much of it might have been at the time, I think it will make a good story someday!

[Note: Robert says it was not really hitchhiking because we didn't flag these cars down. We just looked pitiful and they offered assistance, which we accepted. But I think "hitchhiking" sounds more exciting than "accepted help."]

Love Those Dried Bananas

2006-11-30T02:29:00.000-08:00

Several years ago, as part of a drive to improve the Thai economy at the local (village) level, the OTOP program was started. OTOP stands for "One Tambon, One Product," a tambon being a unit of local government approximately equal to a township. Every tambon has the opportunity to specialize in one or more products, and these locally-made products, when approved, will have a special label on their packaging marking them as OTOP. They can also be rated with a certain number of stars (1 to 5) indicating their quality. Examples of OTOPs in our area include cloth weaving, banana chips, and sweetened rice cakes. OTOPs I have seen from other parts of the country include dried mushrooms, wood carving, silk weaving, and all sorts of sweets and snacks.

After our school visit to a village north of town yesterday, we were taken by Pi Nongnut – a very enthusiastic woman who is part of that area’s governing council – to visit the local OTOP makers. We were taken to a lovely piece of property with a very large and beautiful traditional northern Thai house. Outside the house were two long tables covered in plastic. Looking under the plastic, we were able to see rows of "sweet water" bananas (a popular variety) drying in the warm sun, protected from bugs. We also went inside the packing building, where Pi Nongnut showed off the clean facilities and machines for sealing the bananas in plastic packaging.

Not only did we get to taste several of the delicious bananas fresh from the drying tables, but we were given ten boxes to take home with us! Our refrigerator is now very, very full.

Signs Again

2006-11-29T04:06:00.000-08:00

In a typical five day work week, our Peace Corps project has us working in 2 primary schools apiece, 2 days a week, for a total of four regular days in school per week. They may or may not be full days, for example, I usually don’t leave for my Monday-Thursday school until about 9:30am because we don’t teach English until 10:00. The fifth day of the week, Wednesdays in our case, is flexible. We might work at the school district office, or help judge an English competition, or do official paperwork or reports for Peace Corps, or visit a school that we don’t usually attend. Today we did a school visit.

It was a very delightful day. The school was located about 15 kilometers north of town in a small village. It was clear to us that this community takes a lot of pride in their school – the grounds were well cared-for and decorated, and teachers enjoyed showing us various student projects including agriculture, basket-making, and raising fish and pigs. In the morning, we did a 90-minute English lesson with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders, and in the afternoon with did the same with 4th, 5th, and 6th.

One of my favorite things about this school was the abundance of signs with interesting sayings nailed to the trees. This is a very Thai phenomena – I have seen it at other schools and temples. Usually they remind the reader to live in moderation or take time to reflect on their life. Some of the signs at this school, however, had some unexpected sayings... Take the time to enlarge the photos and see what you can read!

When we asked about the "villains" saying, we were given a long complicated explanation about people who grow up in poor villages, then suddenly become rich, and eventually forget who they are and where they came from. We weren’t sure about the English translation.

World Map #2

2006-11-28T05:56:00.000-08:00

It’s that time of year again. Last year I did a World Map project at my Tuesday-Friday school. This year we’re doing one at my Monday-Thursday school. It’s great fun! This year’s World Cup got kids particularly interested in knowing where different countries are, especially the ones with good soccer teams.

We do it the old-fashioned way. Using a guide from Peace Corps, I made color-coded guide sheets for each sector of the map. We drew a grid on the wall, and the kids used the grid and guide sheets to draw all the countries in pencil first. (I had to fix Europe and part of Africa, but on the whole they did a nice job.)

Now we are painting. So far we’ve done yellow, green, and red. Aside from a few paint-related issues (too much water added at first, not enough containers for leftover paint), it’s going well and starting to look nice. I do spend a lot of time patching up border areas, but I find it to be fulfilling work!

A Pocket of Nice on the Mekong

2006-11-26T01:58:00.000-08:00

Having just returned from a rather calamitous four-day weekend trip to Chiang Rai province, which perhaps I’ll describe another day, I’m trying to remember that it’s the little things in life that can bring us joy. Not every vacation will be fun, even when you’re using two of your precious Peace Corps vacation days. Not every "must see" in Thailand will be seen during our two years here, even if it is only 7 hours by three vehicles away. But even when a four-day weekend turns out to be just a lot of money spent to sit on buses for nothing, there are still a few small pleasures to be celebrated.

Although I’ve considered myself to be vegetarian for over ten years now, I did start to eat some fish in particular circumstances about five years ago. Being vegetarian in Thailand has saved me from many an unpleasant dining experience – I don’t have to worry about being served raw meat, processed fish shaped like mouse faces, or other such "delicacies." But I know that it has also meant that I’ve missed out on trying a lot of the local cuisine, which is very much meat-based.

On occasion, when far away from anyone who might recognize me, I do take the opportunity to try a little fish if it’s prepared in a special "local" way. In Laos, I tried some of Robert’s fish "laab" – minced fish salad with spices and herbs. Last April, I enjoyed grilled mackerel on the beach. And Friday night, one of the few parts of this weekend vacation that worked out, I enjoyed "fish steamed in bamboo", a local specialty of Chiang Saen town in Chiang Rai, while sitting at a little table overlooking the Mekong River after sunset. It was positively a delightful meal – also including sticky rice and spicy papaya salad – and despite the various disappointments of the weekend, I am still left feeling quite fond of the Mekong and its culinary offerings.

Vientiane -- A Relaxing Town

2006-11-21T00:00:00.000-08:00

This is the tenth and final chapter of our Laos journey.

To complete our time in Laos, we spent one day in the capital, Vientiane (pronounced "Wiang Chan"). A pleasant city situated on the Mekong River, we found Vientiane to fit with the understanding of Laos we had developed over the week: similar to Thailand in many ways, but calmer and more expensive.

We spent several hours at the Lao National Museum, focusing on the exhibits that included English labels but paying some attention to the Thai and French as well. Most fascinating was the emphasis on the "greatness" of Communism and the strong antipathy towards the "American imperialists." After reading label after label decrying the actions of the United States during the 1970s – most of the strong language probably deserved, though not what I’d expect to find in a historical museum – I began to feel a bit uneasy about my own presence in the country. It was a strange – not fearful, but maybe a little guilty – feeling. I’m very glad we got to see it, though, because I think it was an experience I couldn’t have had elsewhere.

We also visited Laos’s most important temple, Wat Pathat Luang. The gold lotus glinting in the sunlight was hot, but it was fun to see a different design style than we usually find in Thailand. Two major tourists sites were enough for us for one day, though, so we spent the remainder of our time strolling the parkway along the river, eating baguettes, reading, and enjoying one last Beer Lao. It was a true vacation.

A Day on a Laos Highway

2006-11-16T16:52:00.000-08:00

This is Chapter 9 of our Laos journey.

After two lovely full days in Luang Prabang, on Friday morning we boarded a "VIP" bus for the day-long journey to Vientianne, the current capital of Laos. Many people make this journey overnight, but I have to say they don’t know what they are missing. This bus ride – despite the occasional engine caught fire or delay at a police station – was one of the highlights of our trip, and as I sit at my computer several weeks later thinking back on Laos, it is those images we saw from windows of the bus that feature most prominently in my memories.

After leaving the city of Luang Prabang, the bus climbed high and then higher, and higher, and higher. Soon we were above the clouds – at least the low-level mountain clouds – and there we stayed, for five hours, winding our way very slowly and carefully along ridges. We’d look down into huge valleys, sometimes on either side, and marvel at the wildness of it.

Every five to ten kilometers, we would pass through a tiny village. Thatched-roof houses were built right along the sides of the cliffs. A community water pump stood in the center of each village, and there we would see women washing clothes or children splashing. Mats covered with drying rice or chilies lay in the sunshine. Men, women, and children walked along the road, sometimes steeply uphill, with large bundles on their backs. Even though we were watching it all through the windows of a bus, I felt like we were visitors in another world. Upon a later reading of our guidebook, we learned that this area was "the heart of Hmong country" and the site of many rebel attacks over past decades. If there was one place in Laos I would love to have the chance to go back and explore, this would be it.

About halfway along the trip, the bus was passing through a lowland Lao village and suddenly swerved and hit a wagon. This resulted in a 3-hour delay, during which the three bus employees negotiated with the wagon owners, the police, and other interested locals. The tourists, meanwhile, wandered about and drank sodas. Finally, some money exchanged hands and we were free to leave again. We finished with the high mountain roads but continued to wind along lovely valleys and past tiny villages.

Pulling into the city of Vientianne at night was almost a letdown. We might have been traveling the main highway between two of Laos’s major cities, but it felt like the wilds of Southeast Asia to us.

[Most photos were taken through the windows of the bus, so please forgive any reflections or blurriness.]

Thoughts on the People of Luang Prabang

2006-11-10T00:06:00.000-08:00

This is Chapter 6 of our Laos journey. There will be 8 chapters in all.

Our time in Laos was very short, and I don’t claim to be able to describe its peoples or cultures in any comprehensive way like I might about Thailand after being here nearly two years. However, we did make a number of interesting observations during our days in Luang Prabang.

Thailand, being 75% ethnic Thai (including Thai Lao) and 11% ethnic Chinese, has a relatively homogenous culture with some regional variation. National unity is strong, with few exceptions, and conformity is strongly valued. Other ethnic groups – particularly other southeast Asians – are often viewed with suspicion or even distaste.

In Laos, by contrast, only about 50% of the people are ethnic "Lao." The other half of the population is made up of more than 100 different ethnicities, including numerous Thai subgroups, hill tribes, Chinese, and Vietnamese. Although the groups are geographically separated, with the Lao primarily living in the flatter lowlands and other ethnic groups inhabiting the hills and mountains, society as a whole is much more mixed than in Thailand. During our short visit, we speculated that social conformity and unity are less important in Laos.

Economically, the people of Luang Prabang are at an interesting point. The city is geographically isolated – connected to other areas only by a small highway and the Mekong River. Tourism has brought about a recent boom, however, and entire streets and blocks are filled with guest houses and restaurants catering to foreigners. Although most of the city is still residential, it is obvious that tourism is rapidly increasing the living standards of a select group.

When we hiked up the hill in the middle of town, the path took us through a neighborhood of shabby houses and shacks. The people living there were clearly not wealthy, and their homes had few comforts. What nearly every house seemed to have, however, was a satellite dish. As we rose higher above the roofs of the neighborhood, we could see them poking up to the sky. What are they used for? As far as we could tell, to watch Thai TV. We saw many families watching Thai soap operas, commercials, and music shows. We even saw the Thai national anthem as it was played daily at 6pm.

We were struck by the high cost of living in Laos as compared to Thailand. A plate of noodles that would cost 50 cents here was at least 75 cents there. At first we thought it was because we tourists and visiting mostly tourist areas. It became clear, though, that even the residents of Luang Prabang were paying the higher prices. We weren’t sure whether this was because tourism has inflated the prices of basic necessities, or because the isolation of the city means that those necessities are more scarce to begin with, though we were inclined to lean towards the latter explanation. By contrast, however, the price of souvenirs – silk scarves, hill tribe handicrafts, etc – was far cheaper than in Thailand. We were excited to make a few purchases for our future home in America!

Overall, our visit to Laos left us with many questions about its society and culture. I only wish we had more time to travel back and find some answers.

[The photo of the watercress salad is included to show more of the remarkably delicious local food – Lao with French influence – we were able to eat in Laos.]

Tourists in Luang Prabang

2006-11-03T06:31:00.000-08:00

This is Chapter 5 of our Laos journey.

Luang Prabang, the former royal capital of Laos and a UNESCO World Heritage site, is set on the Mekong river and surrounded by wild mountains. French colonialism heavily influenced its architecture, and to our delight, its food as well. We had heard reports from other volunteers about its mellow avenues, riverside restaurants, tasty baguettes and strong coffee, and we had been looking forward to experiencing it all ourselves.

Our first evening, we dined on the river, enjoying a medley of local foods, sticky rice, and Beer Lao. A highlight of the meal was the "Salad Luang Prabang," made of watercress that grows along the river and a tangy dressing. We then retired to the Thavisouk Guest House, a pleasant place located in a residential area, away from the main tourist roads. We fell asleep feeling as though we were still floating along the brown waters of the Mekong.

Our two full days in Luang Prabang were spent strolling along its calm, clean, monk-filled streets and visiting a couple of temples. One site, That Chomsi, was situated high on a hill in the center of town. We walked up cool, shady paths, past old statues and stones, to find fantastic views from the top. The Royal Museum, with its gardens and art exhibits along with the usual treasures of an old kingdom, was another highlight. From time to time, we ran into fellow travelers from our two days on the boat, and one evening we dined with Ben & Young. Mostly, however, we just took our time . . . drinking fruit smoothies, writing postcards and journal entries, enjoying the feeling of not having to hurry anywhere or be "on duty" for anyone.

Aside from a few bumps, like Robert’s mild food poisoning that kept him from eating as many baguettes as I did over the course of the week and our realization that being tourists in Lampang was using more of our budget than expected, our days in Luang Prabang convinced us that travel as a twosome is something we ought to have more of in our future.

Never Boring

2006-11-02T05:32:00.000-08:00

My description of our Laos journey is not yet finished, but this evening’s events required a different blog entry for today. More Laos to come later.

I knew that something was out of the ordinary this morning when I left for school, because our neighbors across the street seemed to be making large structures out of colored paper – always the sign of loud festivities to come. But because Loy Kratong holiday is this weekend, I assumed their activities must be somehow related.

I was then only partially surprised to arrive home from school and market shortly before 5pm, ready to make dinner and spend the evening doing household chores, to find that a party was in full swing just five feet from our gate. There were the money trees, the tables covered with sticky rice containers and bottles of whiskey, the bowls of peanuts, the crowds of laughing people. There too were the neighborhood northern Thai musicians, practicing their drums and chimes.

Knowing I would eventually be joining in one way or another, and realizing that my plans for a relatively quiet evening were of no use, I ducked into the house to quickly change clothes and unpack bags of vegetables. When Robert arrived five minutes later, Pi La from across the street came over to tell us that there would be a parade to the temple shortly after 5pm, and we were invited to join in the fun.

We scrambled to eat some snacks, put together some money to donate to the tree, and lock up the house, shouting at each other over the noise. When the regular beat of the drums started, we joined in the crowd and started walking: up our lane, along the main road, passing by students and teachers and food vendors. The women walked in front, singing and dancing, while the men trailed behind, playing music or smoking cigarettes. Both men and women carried glasses of ice which were constantly refilled with beer and whiskey, so the revelry continued all the way to the temple.

Once inside the grounds, we circumnavigated the main hall three times – still singing and dancing – before taking off our shoes and entering. When we were finally seated in the back and waiting for the monks to begin chanting, we had a chance to ask the reason for the celebration. "Oh," said Pi See, who lives behind us. "Pi La won the lottery yesterday. More than 100,000 baht. Number 5-7-9." So all the merit-making, feasting, drinking, singing, and dancing, were to show thanks for the winning ticket. [Thai people are crazy about the lottery and very intense about the process of choosing their numbers. It’s typical to celebrate a win by hosting your friends or co-workers to a meal or party. Robert went out for lunch today with the teachers from his school because one of them had won big yesterday also, so she paid for everyone.]

Since it’s Thursday night and we have a busy weekend approaching, we were thankful that the monk chanting didn’t last too long. We were soon on our way home through the dark cool night in the back of a pickup truck. We’re in for the evening, but as I type there are still a few people across the street enjoying the remnants of the event.

[The photos are actually from two previous events, but show the same parade to the wat concept.]

Mekong Slow Boat -- Day 2

2006-10-31T00:21:00.000-08:00

This is Chapter 4 of our Laos journey.

We awoke early in Pak Beng after a fine night’s sleep to find that the river was literally underneath our window. We hadn’t noticed it the previous night in the dark. Fog was thick over the water and we watched as boat traffic started moving. After packing up, we walked outside and bought baguette sandwiches from stands along the road to last us through the day. Such luxury!

The second day on the slow boat passed much like the first, except that the scenery was even wilder and the seats more comfortable; due to engine trouble, we had been switched to another boat, much to our happiness. We spent many hours conversing with Young & Ben, a couple about our age who had been traveling through Southeast Asia for several months.

I continued to reflect on the small villages we passed on our way – their smallness, their evident poverty, and their isolation. I also began noticing the relatively large numbers of school-aged children present in the villages. It appeared that these kids were not attending classes of any sort. If they were dressed at all, it usually was not in a school uniform, and most of the villages looked too small to support a school anyway. In Thailand, the primary schools are often not much to speak of, but they do exist and most, if not all, kids attend. Seeing this different situation in Laos made me curious about other ways in which the two countries might differ, despite their physical closeness.

Shortly after 4pm, we turned a corner past some large cliffs and came to the town of Luang Prabang, the former capital of Laos. Although it had been a pleasant trip, we were glad to be off the boat at last and more than ready to settle in for a couple of days. We climbed into a tuk-tuk and headed off to our guest house.

Mekong Slow Boat to Pak Beng

2006-10-26T20:02:00.000-07:00

This is Chapter 3 of our Laos journey.

When Robert and I were planning our Laos vacation, we felt a bit guilty about sticking to "the beaten path." If you were to open the Lonely Planet Laos and read their suggested itinerary #1, you would find a nearly-exact description of our trip. Did this mean we would be missing out on the "real" Laos? Would we only see what had been specially tailored for tourists? Given our time and budget limits, though, it was the best choice for us. Besides, we rationalized, we’ve been living OFF the beaten path in Thailand for nearly two years now, so that must count for something. We were ready to be tourists for a change.

Nonetheless, we were taken aback as we watched our slow boat fill with North American and European backpackers. It got so full, in fact, that another boat had to be brought around, so that one could be filled too. Who were these people? Where did they get the time and money to sit on a boat in Laos for two days? (Were we not Peace Corps volunteers in Thailand, I’m quite sure we’d not have had the opportunity. There were, I should note, two other Peace Corps Thailand volunteers on the boat as well.) Had we come to Laos to see Laos, or to see Europe?

When you spend two days sitting on a small boat with the same group of people, though, you do get to know them some, and I will say that our fellow Mekong River travelers were a lively, yet friendly, bunch. They swapped travel plans and advice, looked at one another’s copies of the Lonely Planet, drank Beer Lao and saluted the fine scenery together. For our part, the daytime consumption of Beer Lao was out of our budget, but we did splurge on a package of Oreos when the boats pulled up to a tiny village and a family of vendors boarded with their baskets of goods. Yes, I ate Oreos on the Mekong River.

There were a few "real" Lao people on our boat, though, so occasionally we got the opportunity to dock at a village, usually a very small group of houses down close to the water, so they could get off. The houses themselves were a sight to see; made of rattan with a thatched roof, they were completely different from Thai houses. At each village, adults and children would hurry down to the water to look at the "farang" travelers and find out who was coming or going. There are no roads in this part of Laos, so the river traffic is their connection to the outside world.

Just as it was getting dark, we pulled into the town of Pak Beng for the night. We had been dreading Pak Beng, as I had read numerous blogs describing the bugs, rats, and drug pushers wandering its roads and guest houses. To our great surprise and delight, though, we immediately settled in at the Salika Guest House, which had screened windows, private bathrooms, and no rats anywhere, all for an affordable price. Amazed at our good fortune, we headed out to find food and ended up at Hasan Indian Restaurant, owned and operated by a nice young man from southern India. The food was good, and he spent a solid hour talking with us about what it was like being an Indian restaurant owner on the beaten path in Laos.

Feeling much pleased with ourselves for being such good travelers – surviving our first day on the wooden benches of the slow boat and the dark roads of Pak Beng – we retired to our room for a good night’s sleep.

Robert and Sid Ficious Toast Ian in Honor of his Birthday Month

2006-10-25T07:05:00.000-07:00

Huay Xai

2006-10-25T06:17:00.000-07:00

This is Chapter 2 of our Laos journey.

The small town of Huay Xai on the Mekong River was our introduction to Laos, and we were immediately enchanted. After buying our visas, we walked up the hill and through town to the Aramid Guest House (a fine place to stay). "This feels different from Thailand," said Robert. "This feels a lot like Thailand, but calmer," I replied. "Nobody is shouting at us."

At the recommendation of the enthusiastic owner of the Aramid, we walked down to the slow boat landing for dinner overlooking the water. Seated at a table above the river, we watched as boats loaded and unloaded. A group of tourists arrived and trudged up the hill with their backpacks. Families watched the activities. Women bathed on the front of the boats, wearing sarongs – some families use the boats as both home and workplace. Joined by Sid Ficious, we took our first taste of Beer Lao and became instant fans. Robert ordered fish laab, I ordered stir-fried vegetables, and we shared both dishes with sticky rice. The sun slowly set on our first evening in Laos.

We had heard many rumors about the presence of overwhelming numbers of French baguettes in Laos, due to its colonial legacy, and we were eagerly anticipating them in the weeks leading up to our trip. In the morning at the Aramid, we were not disappointed: the wife of the owner made us fantastic "omelette sandwiches," the likes of which we’ve never had in Thailand. Well-fortified, we hoisted our backpacks once again and walked back to the slow boat landing, sharing the road with hundreds of students walking and riding bicycles to school.

Morning on the Mekong is foggy; we couldn’t see across to Thailand when we arrived, but as we waited nearly four hours for our boat to leave, it became visible. We were entertained by watching the continuing loading of the boats, including the transfer of hundreds of crates of Beer Lao between land and water. We also bought several more baguettes for snacking during the day. In the ticket office, Robert snapped a photo of some flags showing our location.

When a horde of other "farang" backpackers arrived from Thailand around noon, we settled ourselves onto the boat and got ready to depart Huay Xai.

To the Mekong

2006-10-24T07:18:00.000-07:00

I’ve decided to write about our journey through Laos as a series of blog entries over the next ten days or so. There is so much to say, and so many photos to show. I’ll start first off, though, by saying that it was a fantastic trip – despite tiredness, upset stomachs, bus breakdowns (plural), and many hours long hours logged on various transport. I only wish we had had more time. I would gladly return, and recommend it to anyone who is considering making the trip.

Today I’ll give a brief summary of the first leg of our journey: from our house to Huay Xai, Laos. We left our house at the early hour of 8:45am and walked two blocks to a basketball court, where we boarded an ordinary, non-airconditioned bus that took us, over the course of many hours, all the way to Chiang Rai – the northernmost province in Thailand. The bus ride from our house north was a fantastic experience itself – we had never ridden in that direction before, and we got to see new places in our own district. Chiang Rai is beautiful – higher mountains, well-tended rice fields, cultivated hillsides. We spent one night in the city there and then took another scenic 3-hour bus ride to Chiang Khong the following day. Chiang Khong is one of the places where foreigners can cross the border – the Mekong River – from Thailand into Laos.

The Mekong impressed us at first sight. It was big, brown, and fast moving. We watched little boats fighting against the current as they made their way back and forth. Even the bigger boats seemed to have to work pretty hard. Laos, on the other side, looked green and lovely.

From Chiang Khong, we took a tiny river ferry across to Huay Xai, Laos. When I say tiny, I mean that it could only hold a few people, and we were just a couple of inches above the water! I spent the 10-minute journey shaking as I snapped a few photos and tried not to tip much to one side or the other.

We arrived in Huay Xai, paid what felt like an exorbitant fee for a visa (we’re Peace Corps volunteers, after all), and headed up the hill into town.

[The photos, mysteriously out of the order I tried to arrange, show the following: our bus to Chiang Mai, Robert standing on the Thai side of the river, a fish pal crossing on the little boat, and our arrival at Lao immigration.]

Hello from Laos

2006-10-17T21:41:00.000-07:00

Robert and I are sitting in an internet cafe in Luang Prabang, Laos. I wanted to have a post on my blog from Laos, because I think it's cool!

We are big fans of Laos. I'll give more details about why, and some photos, next week when we return to Thailand. In the meantime, imagine us visiting historic temples and eating lots of baguettes.

Kids and Instruments

2006-10-12T19:56:00.000-07:00

One thing many of the schools in our town are very good at, despite their other issues, is the teaching of traditional northern Thai music. Kids learn about the different instruments and how to play them, and they usually sound pretty good! It’s fun to hear.

This photo shows the music group at my Monday-Thursday school. There are 4th, 5th, and 6th graders. They are instructed by the principal and sometimes by high school students. My co-teacher, Ajaan Warangkana, is standing with them.

If you look closely at the photo you might notice the big blue milk cooler and the shoe rack, as well.

Boys and Milk

2006-10-11T21:44:00.000-07:00

About ten years ago, someone in Thailand looked at students from Europe and America and observed that they are, on the whole, taller than Thai students. This someone also observed that in Europe and America, many kids drink milk every day. So the connection was made: milk = tall, maybe.

As a result, the Thai government now provides daily milk for all students in the country. Every day kids line up at the big cooler for their bag, or carton, and drink up. My students all say that they like to drink it, which is notable considering that Thai adults can’t drink milk without getting stomach aches. I guess the new policy has changed Thai digestion. However, they do all agree that soymilk is more delicious. (A non-milk-drinker myself, I agree with the soymilk lovers.)

Regarding floods, our house is still dry. We haven’t had much rain in the last couple of days – I think most of it is falling further south – but I make no predictions about what happens next!

I thought we were done with this!

2006-10-09T06:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, in a fit of housekeeping that included washing windows and expelling dozens of spider webs from the ceiling (the spiders weren’t too happy), I decided to finally start unpacking the garbage bags we’ve had sitting around the house, filled with our stuff, for three months now. We hadn’t had much rain lately, and the river seemed quite normal. In the late afternoon, I happily curled up in the newly restored guest bedroom with a book, feeling like my flood troubles were over.

But I forgot that in Thailand, expectations and assumptions are generally worthless. So this morning when the phone rang shortly after 8:00am with a co-teacher warning us that the water was coming, I wondered why I had dared to be so optimistic. In fact, there is flooding in 43 of the 76 provinces of Thailand right now, so the only real surprise is that we actually are not yet underwater. Reports are that there is a bizarre convergence of heavy rains with high tides, so Thailand is being deluded from multiple directions, and will be so for another three days.

We spent today – our first official day off together this school break – doing myriad errands, chatting with other neighbors about flood worries, and checking the level of the river near our house every hour or so. (It did not actually reach our house today, though it came within a block or so.) It has gone down nearly two meters since it’s high level of the morning (shown in the photos), but who knows what tonight will bring? We plan to stay at our house to guard our things, unless there are any dramatic changes...

Parents, don’t worry, we have kind neighbors with 2-story houses.

Kids on Bikes

2006-10-03T07:08:00.000-07:00

Transportation in Thailand has fascinated me from the first day of our arrival here in January 2005. Before dinner at the training center that evening, Robert and I stood by the side of the highway and watched the parade of vehicles flying by – pickup trucks, motorcycles, songtaews, and strange three-wheeled contraptions we had never seen before.

Kids get to school by means no less interesting. Some arrive on songtaews or the backs of their parents motorcycles. A few ride buses more like ours in America. Some walk. And many, especially elementary school students, arrive with their siblings or friends on bicycles, just like in the photo. It’s a skill they learn from a remarkably young age. I think I did this as a child, when we had "banana seats," before helmets were widespread in America, but I’ve long since forgotten how and I think it always was a little scary anyway. But Thai kids hop on and off all the time, no problem!

Our weather is just a tiny bit cooler this week, at night. Low 70's. It makes a big difference when it’s time to go to sleep! Days are still plenty hot, though.

Satah Banah

2006-10-02T06:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning my Tuesday-Friday school had a "satah banah" ceremony. It was the anniversary of the school’s founding. I had been invited to attend, and since it was a Sunday morning I dressed casually only to show up and find out that most everyone else was quite well dressed. Oops!

The ceremony was much like others I have seen. There was a lot of chanting, lots of food was given for the monks to take back to the temple, and special string was tied around everything. One new thing I hadn’t seen before was a bonfire-shaped stand of banana tree branches, under which the principal sat for the duration of the chanting. My co-teacher said that this was to wish him a long life.

The photos show the head monk chanting next to a picture of the King; the principal sitting under the banana leaves; people putting food into the black monk bowls; a selection of food for the monks (sticky rice grains and packaged treats); and the head monk sprinkling the audience with holy water and blessings.

One Year Ago

2006-09-28T05:34:00.000-07:00

In honor of the one-year anniversary of our big flood, I am posting a photo of our house as it was seen that day from our neighbors’ upstairs window, where we had temporarily evacuated. Yikes! And, there’s also a photo from several months later, for comparison.

Weather has improved dramatically lately – the river has been down at normal levels for five days now. We heard reports today of a typhoon over the Philippines that might travel this far, but I have my doubts. In the meantime, things are looking good.

There was much grumbling over the past few days over the new uniform requirement. No one likes having to do so much laundry!

Unexpected Gathering

2006-09-27T06:55:00.000-07:00

Last Friday evening, a remarkable coincidence occurred at our house. For the first time ever, we were asked by some Thai neighbors to translate a legal document from German. And also for the first time ever, we happened to have a native German speaker on the premises.

Late afternoon, while Robert was riding his bicycle home from school and stopping to pick up dinner on the way, I heard a car pull up outside and a friendly, "Hello?" at the gate. I hurried to the door and met Lena, the German exchange student living a bit north of town for the year. A week earlier, Robert had met her host mother, Mor Chatra ("Dr. Chatra"), the local dentist who runs the primary school toothbrushing programs. Mor Chatra had assured Robert she would bring Lena over soon.

The three of us sat on the porch chatting, and when Robert arrived he joined us as well. At about 5:30pm, Mor Chatra and Lena started to go to their car, as in walked our neighbor from across the street with an elderly couple. "Robert," she asked, "could you help us read this document?" Robert took one look and ran outside. "Lena, could we trouble you for some German help?" he called.

Lena was happy to help, and thus began a lengthy, stressful discussion about the nature of the documents. The elderly couple’s daughter had married a man in Switzerland, and then died, and the documents were the only information her parents had received. The 16-year-old Lena did her best to understand the German legalese (not being a lawyer, this tested even her native German skills) and soon determined that we were looking at a will. She would then translate into either English or Thai, at which point Robert or I would try to clarify the Thai for the older people. The whole process was made more difficult by the fact that they were hoping to get different information from the documents than what was actually there, and they couldn’t understand why their desired information wasn’t available.

Immediately after the neighbors left, Mor Chatra’s daughter and nephew arrived at the house and a fantastic downpour started. Since no one could leave in the rain (Thais hate getting wet in rain), Robert brought out banana chips and we spent more time chatting on the porch. It was an unexpected end to an unusual week in Thailand.

[The photo shows the above mentioned houseguests, as well as Milk, our neighbor across the street who attends school with Mor Chatra’s daughter.]

And Just Like That ---

2006-09-26T07:02:00.000-07:00

Thai people love uniforms like no one I’ve ever seen. Status is important here, and clothing is a way of showing where you fit into the hierarchy. Farmers wear oversized long-sleeved plaid flannel shirts and thick head coverings. Nurses wear white outfits with little white hats. Students of all ages – from Anuban 1 (pre-school) to university – wear different uniforms depending on the theme of the school day. And teachers, yes, even teachers have uniforms in Thailand. Teachers are "ka ratchagan" – civil servants – and they must dress to show it.

During our first year in Thailand, the teachers’ outfits were more or less on a regular schedule, possibly depending on the particular school or the region of the country. For example, at my Monday-Thursday school, teachers dressed as follows: Monday – "ka ratchagan" uniforms (khaki, very official with rank bars and medals); Tuesday – sports clothes (school colors shirt and long black exercise pants); Wednesday – Scouts; Thursday – school uniform (dark blue suit with the school seal embroidered); and Friday – northern Thai.

This school year, because of the 60th anniversary of the King, there were some changes. In May, the order came down from above that all "ka ratchagan" were to wear yellow shirts on Mondays. Yellow polos with the King’s seal replaced the light brown uniforms. In June, Tuesdays were added to the yellow shirt schedule. Casual yellow shirts replaced the sports clothes. Suddenly, female teachers were wearing pants two days a week, and they enjoyed it. Some even started substituting black pants for their navy blue skirts on Thursdays!

Yesterday, however, a new order came from above. The difference is that, this week, "above" means the leaders of the coup. The new order requires that all "ka ratchagan" throughout the country wear the khaki "ka ratchagan" uniforms EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK. Starting tomorrow. No more yellow shirts on Mondays, no more northern Thai on Fridays, and no more pants for the women. All "ka ratchagan," all the time.

Reaction at our schools has ranged from irritation to resignation. Those teachers who only own one or two "ka ratchagan" uniforms – a majority – are trying to figure out how they will find the time to wash and dry them every day of the week. The stated reason for the new policy is because it will help soldiers to distinguish between real "ka ratchagan" and imposters, but it’s hard to tell if the teachers are buying this or not. In any case, it’s a fascinating example of what life can be like in a country where following the orders of your superiors – even when they are army generals who have overthrown the elected government and annulled the Constitution – is the only acceptable response.

[The photo, taken 18 months ago at my practice school during training, shows a teacher wearing the "ka ratchagan" uniform.]

City Escape

2006-09-24T06:30:00.000-07:00

On the spur of the moment after yet another downpour on Friday night, we decided to use this weekend to make a temporary escape from the blood-pressure-raising flood watch. Merissa, a volunteer who lives in a nearby province, and Bryn, another volunteer who lives in our provincial capital just an hour away, invited us to spend Saturday night with them at Bryn’s house. Hey, we thought, it’s been months since we spent time with other volunteers, we need a bit of social life! So we re-secured our possessions into the black garbage bags, re-packed those items that had been slowly spilling out over recent weeks, and re-hung the tea bags, spices, and toiletries on the window nails. Finally, mid-day Saturday we locked the gate and headed out of town.

Our nights on the town in the capital usually include dinner at a rambly wooden riverside restaurant that makes great pizza, and last night was no different. What was unusual, though, was that the tables where we usually sit were covered in muddy water. The lower level of the restaurant was flooded! We sat on the upper level and watched as servers walked across planks down below, between the kitchen and the staircase. A trip to the restroom at the end of the meal meant that I, too, got to walk the plank. (My beverage consumption over dinner did not make this feat any easier.) Only in Thailand would a restaurant continue business as usual while partially submerged in floodwater!

After dinner, Bryn led us further upriver to a night market that Robert and I had never seen. We met up with several of her Thai friends, one of whom sells handicrafts in the street outside her house. They were kind enough to serve us beer and popcorn while we chatted and watched the shoppers wander by.

And then... about a hundred feet away, we heard the thumping beat of Thai hip-hop music. Carrying our beer glasses, we moved towards the sound and discovered a group of teenage boys spinning and grooving on a mat. Breakdancing! They were really very talented – lots of fancy, flexible moves. We watched for at least 20 minutes before finally moving away.

At some point I looked around at the crowd, the market stalls, the lively chatting, and realized that back in our sleepy river valley town, our neighbors were all inside for the night. The only sounds would be crickets, roosters, and occasional mumbles of television or drunken men conversing. What a difference a city can make. We’re glad to live where we do, but it sure was nice to have a Saturday escape.

[The photo, taken over a year ago, shows Bryn on the left and Merissa on the right. These days, Bryn has long hair and Merissa’s is short.]

No Bus for Us

2006-09-21T05:51:00.000-07:00

A flood? A coup? A flood? A coup? A flood?

It’s hard to decide what to be more excited/concerned/nervous about – the daily rise and fall of our river or the military takeover of the government. Even just within today, my attention has bounced back and forth between the two situations numerous times. I’d say it’s exhausting, except that thanks to the coup we’ve been granted what feels like a free and unexpected weekend.

The "Standfast" for Peace Corps Volunteers in Thailand was lifted this morning, so we can leave our sites again, but we are not allowed to travel to Bangkok or Chiang Mai. We had originally been scheduled to go on a trip this weekend – starting one hour ago – with teachers from one of Robert’s schools. The primary destination? Bangkok. The hotel on the 2nd night? Currently flanked with tanks, as it’s in the heart of the government center.

The Peace Corps was, to put it mildly, a little shocked when Robert called today to tell them that the trip was still on, and to ask whether we should be packing our bags to join them or not. "They’re still going?" asked our Program Director incredulously. "But the place is full of soldiers!" said our Safety and Security Officer. "So we don’t have to go then?" Robert asked hopefully.

We were nervous about the trip anyway, since it involved two overnight bus rides during what has felt like the worst of the rainy season, and we were even less interested in going once the capital was taken over by the army. So I was relieved when Robert called me at school to confirm that indeed, no, the Peace Corps was not going to bend the rules for this one.

Many people did run home from school or work during the day to take care of their flooding houses, but that’s the OTHER river, on the OTHER side of town, not our river. So now we’re snug in our still-dry house, not on an overnight bus, and OUR river is back down to four steps below the road.

The Rain Still Falls (But More Lightly Now)

2006-09-20T17:37:00.000-07:00

Since media is being censored, I’ll be cautious about giving too many descriptive details here, but I wanted to share a bit about what our first day of living under martial law was like.

For the most part, the average visitor would not have noticed any big differences in our town before and after the coup. Life seemed to be proceeding as normal, despite the post office, banks, and government buildings being closed. In fact, you might not even known that the school district office was closed. When we arrived late morning, it was full of people. A big meeting for area teachers that had been previously scheduled was still going on, and other employees who hadn’t wanted to sit at home on the surprise day off were milling about. On the whole, I might just say that things were quieter than usual yesterday. We didn’t even have our nightly serenade of Thai pop music blasting from the house next door.

A fellow Peace Corps Volunteer wrote a blog about the easily changing allegiances of Thais during the World Cup in June. Describing the atmosphere of watching a game with a bunch of Thai friends, he noted that they took the side of whoever was winning! Robert and I wondered if, at least publicly, that was also happening with respect to this coup. We live in the rural north, where support of the ousted prime minister has been traditionally high. But yesterday you wouldn’t have known that anyone here ever liked him. At one point, in a conversation with some employees at the school district office, Robert referred to what happened Tuesday night as a "coup." (To be fair, he used the Thai word for a regular coup, as opposed to a bloodless coup, which has a different word, we learned later.) The three women present looked shocked, and hurried to correct him that it had not, absolutely not, been a coup, it had been POLITICAL REFORM.

Right... Political reform. With tanks.

Yes, a Coup

2006-09-19T19:05:00.000-07:00

We're just starting to learn a little now, but here's what I can tell you. The military has taken over the government here, and Bangkok has a lot of tanks and soldiers. It's "bloodless", so that's good. That's about all I know.

We did also hear that people in Bangkok were taking their photos next to the tanks, so that sounds like Thailand can't have changed too much overnight!

We first heard of it at about 11:30pm last night, when text message arrived simultaneously on both our cell phones. Peace Corps Thailand is currently under a "standfast", meaning that volunteers are not allowed to leave their sites or travel. We don't know how long this will be the case.

Perhaps the more pressing concern for us today is the level of the river. We had another night of torrential rain... Wish us luck.

Field Trip

2006-09-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

During my first school year in Thailand, I used to get annoyed when unexpected field trips popped into the schedule. I thought it took too much time away from English teaching. But in my second year, I’ve adjusted my expectations and understandings of Thai schools, mellowed out a bit, and come to see field trips as enjoyable. So Sunday afternoon, when I got the message that we’d be visiting a Thai cloth factory yesterday, I was excited.

We left school at 9:30 – students walking in line, teachers in assorted motorized vehicles – and went up the hill to the house of a former county commissioner. He owns a cloth weaving operation with about 8 looms. He gave a talk to the kids and then showed them how the cotton is made into thread, and the thread into cloth. I was impressed by how difficult and intricate of a job it appears to be! He also talked about how the dyes for the thread are made from different local ingredients – leaves, fruits, etc. Now I know, when I buy cotton products in Thailand, how authentic they really are!

After the cloth factory, the teachers got back into vehicles and the kids walked down to the village wat (temple) for some prayers, meditation, and a speech by a monk on why you should obey your parents. Although my back got stiff from sitting in proper position for so long, it was still pleasant to sit and think and look at the paintings on the walls.

After lunch back at school, the 3rd-6th grades climbed into the backs of 3 pickups and we headed off to another nearby wat that they had never visited because it’s in a different village. There, we also did the requisite sitting and meditating, but the monk’s speech was hard to decipher because he spoke Pali (the official language of Buddhism, from India) instead of Thai. The kids were interested in the decorations and the history of the wat, though, so they still had a good time.

Although it was an enjoyable day, it was made slightly more difficult by temperatures near 100. Then a big storm came through last night, and the river is high once again. We’ll be extra cautious over the next few days now... It’s always something here.

Mine or Yours?

2006-09-15T00:27:00.000-07:00

As I was washing laundry after school on Tuesday, I witnessed an unusual event that has since caused some internal reflection.

When I first heard the moaning, I thought it was the cat that has been hunting lizards in our yard lately. I quickly realized, though, that one of the women who lives across the road from us was making the unusual noise, rocking and moaning in front of her house. The moaning turned to howling, and occasional wild laughter, and a group of watching neighbors began to grow around the house. When a strange man pulled up on a motorcycle and began giving the woman a drink that made her vomit multiple times, I was sure that what I was seeing was a case of "pii kow," or possession by a ghost.

On my own, I would not have come to such a conclusion. I might have assumed that the woman was having a seizure or some other psychiatric experience. But because Robert saw this same woman have a similar episode last January, and had been filled in by another neighbor as to its presumed cause, I was pre-informed.

When Robert saw the "pii kow," it was cured by a monk who came and chanted over our neighbor. The strange man who performed the cure that I saw is called, I was told by my co-teacher yesterday, a "ghost doctor." Both times, the "cure" seemed to have the desired effects: the woman returned to her normal self.

My reflection over the days since the incident has concerned the questions: Whose explanation is correct? And, to what extent does it matter anyway? Some years ago I read The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, by Anne Fadiman, describing the true story of a Hmong girl with epilepsy whose parents and doctors could not accept one another’s assessments and treatments of her condition. The parents’ belief was that her illness was of a spiritual nature, while the doctors approached it scientifically. I wonder whether this week’s incident demonstrated a similar conflict between traditional and modern medicine. Whose interpretation is accurate? Was she possessed by a ghost, or is there a mis-wiring in her brain somewhere?

My co-teacher, who I discussed it with yesterday, told me that most educated Thai’s no longer believe in possession by ghosts (though they may still believe in ghosts in general). They accept the scientific explanation. It’s the rural areas where these beliefs still hold. I, myself, coming from the background I do, tend to believe more in the scientific explanations as well. However, in both incidents that Robert and I witnessed, the cure was not scientific but spiritual. I suppose it’s a question that cannot be answered easily, if at all.

The photo shows the area where it all took place.

Typical Tuesday

2006-09-10T18:03:00.000-07:00

Last week’s "Typical Monday" was, interestingly enough, followed by what I might consider a "Typical Tuesday." I teach at 2 different schools. One, my Monday-Thursday school, is pretty well-run and the teachers, in my opinion, care a lot about the students. The other, my Tuesday-Friday school, is somewhat of a dysfunctional mess for many reasons I won’t go into just now. In any case, this past week illustrated some of the differences between the two schools.

On my "Typical Monday," as described, I taught several classes and helped with English club. By contrast, on my "Typical Tuesday," there was no teaching. All day. None.

When I arrived at school just after 8:30 (no morning run, but still oatmeal for breakfast), my co-teacher, Waewnapa, was a bit stressed. "Oh," she said, "a group is coming to look at the library today so I have to make many boards." In addition to being the 6th grade teacher and the English teacher for all grades, Waewnapa is also the librarian, and the principal has made a big push to develop the library over the past year or so since our flood. This past week, several school libraries in the district were being evaluated in some sort of contest to see who had the best one. Our principal really wanted to win.

So, our morning was spent making "boards," an activity in which I have minimal skill, not being artistically inclined or motivated. Boards are display pieces, kind of like what American elementary school students might use as in their science projects. They generally have lots of photos, descriptive text, and decorations. When I arrived on Tuesday, most of the work had already been done, so my role consisted of helping to select which paper flower went on which board, and what color (pink or white?) should be the paper used for listing the names of library donors. It made for a slow morning.

In the afternoon, the evaluators arrived, and I helped by standing nearby, smiling and occasionally agreeing that I could speak Thai. The principal also excitedly pointed out that I had helped with some of the decorations. The evaluators seemed mildly impressed by this information. I also assisted by taking photographs of the evaluators doing important things, like standing and reading the boards or sitting at tables in the library.

When I finally left school shortly before 4:00pm, I could think of little that I had truly accomplished during the day. Oh well. We had a fine evening, anyway, complete with yellow curry and aerobics class at the town hall.

[Note: The photo of Waewnapa making a board was actually taken last February, during another board-making flurry, hence her warm clothing! This week’s board-making took place during a severe hot spell.]

Typical Monday

2006-09-04T17:26:00.000-07:00

As I was jogging along the rice fields this morning, getting some exercise to start off my week, I decided that I ought to write a blog about what a "typical" school day for me might be like. Of course, in reality there is no such thing as a "typical" day in Thailand, because nothing is predictable or consistent here, but today came pretty close. So here it is!

At 6:50am the alarm went off – a bit later than usual for a Monday, because we haven’t been sleeping enough lately and wanted to try to add a few more minutes. Robert got into the shower; I headed out for my run to a nearby temple on top of a small hill. Traffic was busy – lots of high school students on motorcycles, parents dropping kids off at school, women on their way to the market. I also encountered the usual wandering dogs (we know each other by now) and barefoot monks in orange robes out collecting their daily food from the townspeople.

After stretching, ironing, sending Robert off to school, showering, eating oatmeal, and checking email, I headed out on my bicycle just before 9:30am. It was incredibly hot – over 90 already – and very sunny, so I was sweaty by the time I arrived at school. My co-teacher, Warangkana, turned on her desk fan for me and I sat trying to cool off for several minutes.

Shortly before 10, two guys from Isaan (northeastern Thailand) showed up selling beautiful cloth to be made into "suits". Waranakana and the 5th grade teacher went a little crazy buying some, and I ended up buying some myself. We’ll see how my suit turns out!

From 10 until noon, we taught the 5th grade English class ("sweet," "sour," "salty," "spicy," and menu-making). (Photo) They were relatively well-behaved today despite the heat! We walked the kids across the athletic field to lunch and I visited with them in English about today’s meal. "What do you have for lunch today?" "Noodles!" "Watermelon!" "Pig blood!" My vegetarian lunch was stir-fried sprouts.

Just before 1pm, the kids brushed their teeth and had meditation. Then we taught the 6th grade for an hour. The first two-thirds of class were a continuation of "family" words from last week (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) and the last third was my presentation of how to make oatmeal. Yes, we made oatmeal. They had been begging to see it ever since the day we learned "breakfast," "lunch," and "dinner," when I stated that I eat oatmeal for breakfast every day. To my surprise, many of them liked it and came back for seconds.

Normally at 2pm we would head off to teach the 4th grade, but today they were busy, so I got to observe 6th grade music class instead. They watched a video about how to practice the different movements in classical Thai dance, and we all tried to follow along. My wrists and shoulders were sore after the first 20 minutes, so after that I just sat back and watched.

In English Club – the one hour per week we spend with the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grades combined – we practiced numbers 11-20 with a song and game. Then the day was over, at last, and I was more than ready to head home for my shower.

After putting on cooler clothes I went out on my bicycle once more to pick up some sticky rice and papaya salad to have along with dinner. Back at the house again, I did a load of laundry by hand, cleaned the ants out of the kitchen sink and dish drain, and prepared dinner. Robert arrived home just after 6pm, and we shared the details of our respective school days while eating at our teak table. For the remainder of the evening, we’ll be doing more ironing, email, and getting ready for tomorrow.

So there it is: a more or less "typical" Monday for this Peace Corps Thailand volunteer!

Sunshine

2006-09-02T02:28:00.000-07:00

It hasn’t rained for 26 hours, and the sun has been shining most of the day, so our river has gone about halfway back to its normal levels. I am now expecting a calmer weekend. Hooray!

Of course, while sunshine is welcome today if it keeps the floods away, it still does make it awfully hot. It’s currently 93°F in the shade. Ah, well.

Expertise We'd Rather Not Have Had

2006-09-01T00:26:00.000-07:00

After last year’s flash flood, I lamented many of our lost items – letters from friends, photographs, teaching materials, books, and clothing – and plotted how I might try to attempt to save them if the occasion happened again. Before we left for the USA a few weeks ago, we put most of our irreplaceable items into large plastic garbage bags, hoisted the bags on top of beds and tables, and hung smaller bags from curtain hooks. When we returned to our town, we unpacked a few of the bags in an attempt to have a more normal-looking household.

Yesterday, everything went back into the bags, and we ourselves went off to spend the night on higher ground in hopes of sleep and safety. As of this writing on Friday afternoon, our house is still dry, but I expect a very interesting weekend! Here is how the last 44 hours have passed:

Wednesday, 5:10pm: I board a songtaew in the city after sending my mother and stepfather to the airport at the end of their visit. I notice dark clouds in the sky, but it’s not raining. By 5:30pm, though, the rain has started to fall.

Wednesday, 6:10pm: Still raining. I check the level of our river as the songtaew enters town. It isn’t too high – still about 8 or 9 steps below the road. (There are intermittent staircases along our side of the river bank – used by fisherman, washerwoman, and young swimmers when they want to enter the water.) Over dinner, Robert and I decide that if the water rises to within 2 steps of the road, we will move to higher ground.

Wednesday night: Rain continues to fall all night, though Robert says he heard it stop once or twice.

Thursday 9:20am: It’s still raining as I ride my bicycle to school. Crossing the bridge, I notice that the river has risen dramatically over the night. It’s now only 3 steps below the road at the point nearest our house, and it is moving very fast. After I arrive at school, I call Robert, who is still at the house, and tell him to pack up the computer and passports in a safe place.

Thursday day: It continues raining throughout the day, sometimes harder, sometimes just drizzling. My co-teacher, Ajaan Warangkana, says that in the event of a flood we can stay with her in a second-story room. I check in with Peace Corps, who says we can stay in a hotel in the city if needed.

Thursday, 3:15pm: As the teachers are gathering for a meeting, one gets a call on her cell phone reporting flooding in the district north of ours, upstream. A few minutes later, Robert calls to say that his school is closing early and sending all of the students home.

Thursday, 3:30pm: Parents begin showing up at school, asking to take their kids home because the town loudspeakers are warning of floods. When 30+ children hear the word "flood," they begin hollering and running around. The teachers dismiss them. I ride my bicycle home along with the students. On my way back over the bridge, I see that the water has risen just a few inches since morning, but is still moving quickly.

Thursday, late afternoon: Robert and I pack our backpacks and the house. I take the computer across the street to a neighbor’s second-story room. Robert listens to frequent announcements from our nearest loudspeaker, reporting more villages upstream that are being flooded. I check the river once and see that it has risen above the second step. Despite our earlier plan, we are reluctant to leave our house.

Thursday, 5:30pm: Robert and I go to look at the level of the river. It has risen above the first step and after a few more inches will be spilling over the brick pathway. (See photos!) Houses across the river, on lower ground, are beginning to get water. As Robert and I go to buy noodles for dinner, we discuss our options. Finally, we decide that leaving the house overnight would be more responsible. We compromise by planning to take care of our showers, toothbrushing, etc, before leaving, so that all we need to do at our safehouse is sleep!

Thursday evening: We eat dinner, finish packing, and get ready for bed. Plans are made for us to sleep at the house of Ajaan Lamduan, a teacher at one of Robert’s schools who lives less than a kilometer away but on significantly higher ground. She lives alone and has lots of space.

Thursday, 8:00pm: We say goodbye to our neighbors, put on our backpacks, and walk to Ajaan Lamduan’s house. We set up in her daughter’s room (she’s away at school). By 10:00 we’ve gone to sleep.

Friday, 2:00am: After a trip to the bathroom, I lie in bed listening to distant roosters and wondering about the state of the river. Suddenly the loudspeakers on the street are blaring. I poke Robert awake. The only words I catch are "water is here," "help each other," "safe already," and the name of our village. We aren’t sure what this means. About 15 minutes later, we hear the speakers again, but the ones nearest us aren’t turned on this time, so we can’t make out anything. Finally, after another half hour, a much more clear announcement comes. "Village 9, pick up your things. Move your refrigerators. Help each other. The water is flowing. If it reaches the road it will enter Village 9." It repeats a few times and then is quiet again. We lie awake until nearly 4:00am, wondering if the water has crossed the road and entered our neighborhood.

Friday, 6:00am: We wake up and get dressed. Ajaan Lamduan has brought us some desserts for breakfast, and she tells us that the water did not reach the road. 45 minutes later we head back to our house. It is indeed dry and the neighborhood has not yet been flooded. We get dressed and go to school.

Friday, 8:30am: On my way to school, I look at the river again. It has spilled over the banks and is covering the red brick pathway and the road alongside it. I can’t tell how high it reached in the night, or whether it is rising or falling.

Friday day: Although the morning was turning sunny and optimistic, rain has been falling on and off and now the sky is definitely cloudy. My teaching for the day is finished and I’ve retrieved the computer for the time being. I think there’s no way of knowing now if the water will rise again or not – it will depend on tonight’s weather! In any case, we’re ready to leave the house in a hurry again if need be. Ajaan Lamduan will welcome us at her house for as many nights as necessary. And that’s where we’re at!

PS: If you try to call us on our cell phones and can’t get through, try adding an "8" before the rest of the number. (after the country code) It might be a new policy thing going into effect today, but it’s not clear yet.

Signs 2

2006-08-30T05:47:00.000-07:00

One of our frustrations with life as Peace Corps Volunteers in Thailand has been observing the spending choices made by school directors at our local schools. When the kids need teachers, desks, fans, and interesting library books, money is instead spent on teacher field trips, digital cameras, and signs. Almost every school we see has a large, fancy sign out front, usually black with gold lettering, attempting to symbolize that this, indeed, is a wonderful school.

It’s not just the schools in Thailand that go in for big fancy signs, though. Many of the local villages have their own signs, and some, like the one in the photo, are very big and ornate! When we were out biking a year ago we came across this sign, signifying the entrance to Bahn Sa Pae Village about 8 kilometers south of our house. You can see that it is no ordinary sign. The village itself, of course, is quite ordinary.