After a while

I believe that I made a lot of promises in my last posts, to tell you more about Reconnect, the 50th anniversary, the trip to the beach... but, in the intervening weeks, a lot more stuff has happened. It always does, here, life just sliding along until, after a while, certain stories fade and others seem more important.

Like for example, the fact that in the past week, I've made brownies, not once, but twice. (No pictures, sorry, they got gobbled up too fast.) I also made homemade yogurt with the help of Pii Gai, a neighbor from our home-stay family's house, who mentioned once that she knew how to make it. On Saturday, we finally got around to doing it - a trip to the city to buy milk, yogurt (you know, like a sourdough starter, only it's a yogurt starter), and a few other items ended with us warming milk over a gas stove while Pii Gai confessed she'd only ever made yogurt once. I decided it wasn't worth it to be worried, so I just smiled and said, well, I've never made it. I transported a batch of yogurt stock about 3 km back in a plastic bag in my backpack, having a few stray thoughts about how terrible it would be if it burst (that smell would never come out!) and becoming moderately worried about what the outcome would be. As instructed, I left the concoction out for 8 hours (!) before putting it in the fridge and turning in to bed. On Sunday morning, the yogurt was edible. Delicious even, although it had a somewhat grainy texture. Nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little experimentation. So, there's gonna be a lot of yogurt in my future now. :)

Or how 'bout this: Yesterday, after eating the yogurt for breakfast and taking a trip to the internet (local health station across the street, where the employees are gracious enough to tell us to "tam sabai" - make ourselves at home - and use the internet and computers) I came home to see several neighbors cutting down banana leaves from the trees that stand in an empty lot next to our house. People use banana leaves for lots of things here, so it's not really that strange to see a 60-some-odd year old woman hacking them down with a scythe tied to a giant pole. It is weird that people turn around and give you a guilty look as they're doing it, though, so I took note of that as I walked back into the house. Josh was already cleaning up the kitchen in preparation for two bpas (aunts; older women) to come over and teach us to cook two of his favorite dishes: geeng nommai (bamboo curry) and pakana muu krop (crispy pork with chinese kale). I didn't say anything about the banana leaves. What is there to say when you have no idea what's going on?

When the bpas appeared, laden with baskets full of fresh produce and meat - lemongrass, kaffier limes, galangal, bamboo, coconuts, dried chiles, onions, garlic, pork - we sat on our front porch and watched and took notes while they unloaded everything and began turning it into delicious looking ingredients. One of the banana cutting neighbors came and sat down - then got up again to drag another large leaf off the tree from our side of the fence. "What have they done to those trees?" said Josh, looking up at the pretty mutilated forms. "I know," I said, telling him the story. Then the neighbor explained to the bpas (in Thai, so I only caught part of it, although Josh understood more) that they'd been cutting down the trees because they couldn't see our house from theirs, or from the road. Josh responded that we don't want to see the road! Or hear the cars! But that explained the guilty look. I guess now, if we're so inclined, we can spy on them too.

Or maybe bring them some yogurt, brownies, and geeng nommai.

green

To be, or not to be, me.

I didn't think this would happen to me, but it has: I just don't feel like myself anymore. Or my self, whichever you prefer. 

In the past, when pressed--think resumes, job interviews, bad icebreakers--I have consistently described myself with a few of the following words: smart, honest, irreverent, caring, silly, hardworking, articulate, detail-oriented, goal-driven, compassionate, empathetic, more or less patient.

Timeworn as these words are, they just don't all seem to apply anymore. Thailand has turned me into a high-strung, worried, inarticulate, frustrated person. Ironically, that's precisely because I'm still detail-oriented, goal-driven, and hardworking. Fortunately, I'm becoming more patient--with people, buses, weather, and dogs, if not myself.

During our PST, I got along pretty well. I felt comfortable in the schedule- and assignment-driven environment (even though I thought plenty of it was banal and annoying). It fit with my understanding of how things get done, and with those aspects of my personality. I could play by the rules of dress and conduct, give the right answers in the cultural sessions, and imagine that life was going to be pretty dandy because I'm just so damn culturally sensitive. 

Fast forward to site, and things aren't quite like that. The truth is, I like rules. So, I'm still dressing riap roi ("appropriate" i.e., long skirts, high collared shirts--things that don't show thighs or shoulders), smiling at everything whether I understand it or not, trying to bring gifts or food to people on a regular basis so they don't think I'm stingy (a word that translates as "sticky shit"), being the PDA police and not letting Josh hug me in public, and, well, you get the idea. I'm trying to be proper. All the time. Sorry, not enough emphasis. "Proper." ALL the time. 

Turns out that that pretty much sucks. In a lecture from Dr. Klaussner (a resident and expert on Thai culture) during our Reconnect (which Josh largely glossed over in the last blog - more stories forthcoming after I get this off my chest, I guess), we were told that no matter what, we will be judged by the Thais in our villages for how strictly and consistently we adhere to traditional Thai values. This even though Thai values are rapidly modernizing and changing, and also in spite of the fact that plenty of Thais engage in behavior that doesn't epitomize those supposed standards at all, anyway. Not so different from how immigrants in America are often the most gung-ho Americans you can imagine, we can't fit in, or even be accepted here unless we go super-Thai. 

Dr. Klaussner, who's been here something like 40+ years, seemed to think that there's a way to do this without losing yourself. As you might imagine, he said that you just have to remember that you're wearing a mask, you're acting, you're doing what you have to do in order to do the work you came here to do. I can dig that, in theory, I really can. But in practice, the image I've constructed of what it means to be "Thai"--the one I'm trying to wear, daily, is suffocating and burdensome. I have to breathe a little easier, or I won't get anything done here. 

There's a silver lining to this, however, and that lies in what's probably my greatest and most enduring personality trait: I'm really good at being wrong. In fact, sometimes, I love being wrong, because it's exciting and somewhat titillating to be forced into a new perspective, to try on new ways of thinking and being that might just be better.

And right now, I think that many of the rules I've learned and tried to internalize, the notions that I have about what it means to be Thai, what it means to act correctly and be appropriate in this cultural context, well, they might just be wrong. Maybe not entirely (don't expect to see me in booty shorts and midriff baring tanktops outside of the annual PCV 124 fashion show--more on that later), but wrong enough that it's time to start looking at things differently.

So today, I'm just happy to be wrong, even if I'm not sure what it means to be me. 

this could be a book but I ain;t got time

On July the 11th Erin and I left our home site in Sukhothai for Bangkok. We traveled the usual route by bus and arrived in the BKK around 7 PM. The purpose for our visit was a Peace Corps 50th Anniversary Ceremony with events held at the home of the US Ambassador to Thailand and other Thai government buildings. I had purchased my first tailored suit for the occasion which set me back a dazzling 7000 Thai baht. Purchasing this suit was for a long time a point of stress, embarrassment, and uncertainty because all the Thais in my village considered the price outrageous. We are now fairly used to getting what I call the "laka farang" or foreigner price. For most things we can talk the price down, but in this arena, I was completely unprepared for that. I have only purchased perhaps three suits in my life, and never a tailored one   but I imagined it would be hard to purchase such a thing in the states for less than 1500 dollars. When I finally received the suit, I was extremely happy with the quality and fit. It turns out that while you can purchase a tailored suit in Thailand for 3-5 thousand baht, a high quality Italian wool suit is probably gonna run you closer to 6-10. Although 7000 baht for me is just about one months pay, when we decked out in Bangkok, it was worth it. PCT 50th Anniversary events lasted 3 days during which current volunteers got to chat with those who came before, some in 1969, some in 72, some in 2004. We heard wonderful stories of a Thailand before cars and motorcycles, a Ko Samoi with no boat docks, and how some of the leaders of the Peace Corps Thailand organization were taught English by PC volunteers 40 years ago. There is a very clear difference between people who will work hard as farmers their whole lives and those who will leave the village to work in a city and learn about the bigger world. A big part of that difference today is learning to speak English.

Several volunteers were able to have words with Her Royal Highness, Princess Chakri Sirindhorn. Erin was part of a select group who was able to be photographed with her. From all accounts, this woman's greatness could be felt when speaking with her. I did not really believe in that stuff until I read some accounts of friends of Bill Clinton's, but sometimes you just feel it, I guess. Meeting the princess is a huge honor in the eyes of Thai people as they revere their royalty to an almost holy level. The princess who presided over our 50th Anniversary celebration is well know for being very progressive with project ideas that improve Thailand and Thai people's quality of life.

All said, we were in Bangkok for nearly a week. I had my first meeting with the Information Communications Technology GIG (Global Initiative Group). We painted the town most evenings and stayed in a very damp yet beautiful middle eastern decorum hotel. Bangkok is a welcome relief from site because one, they sell international food there, and two there is also everything else. Arguably our best evening was the night we went to the Jazz Saxophone jazz club recommended by one of our language instructors. This is a high class place where the price of the drinks more than makes up for the lack of a cover and the music more than makes up for the price of the drinks. A posse of about 10-15 of us rolled in there dressed to the nines after the final PC event, and bobbed our heads and tapped our feet to the best sounds to pass my ears in quite some time. A brass band played all variety of jazz from latin to Sinatra tunes, the Thai singer able to manipulate his voice and facial expressions perfectly for the song of the minute. This will be an evening to remain in memory for many years as will the taste of those Paulaner Dunkels lubricating the evening and the hardened forging of lifelong friendships with our fellow volunteers. Pictures to follow soon cause damn, we looked good.

Today is the second to last day of RECONNECT. This is a second training session held after 3 months at site. We all have new progress and problems and our Thai counterparts were invited down here for two days to talk about those and other things. The training is two weeks long, and we study Thai for 3.5. hours a day. The rest of the time is spent with various guest speakers who talk to us about various project ideas and the state of Thailand. I had lunch with a couple of Foreign Service member from the US Embassy following one session and learned a lot of about their work and what sorts of opportunities might be there for someone with interests like my own. Tomorrow, I will co-present a session on environmental topics with one of the PCT staff as well as 3 other volunteers. My focus will be waste management and pollution prevention. I am excited to begin projects in these areas at my site, now that I learned a little more about the Thai "landscape" for such things. Tomorrow night, extra-curricular class on Thai cooking.

After Friday, RECONNECT will be over and so will the good breakfasts and other fringe perks of this nice hotel we are calling home. Erin and I will head back to the Khothai and try to get back to work and being the only Americans for miles. When we return, we will have been gone for almost four weeks. This after living in our new home for only two, still not making a full shopping trip yet. 

The next time we will see our fellow volunteers in an official capacity will be for mid-service in another eight months. By then, group 123 will be packing their bags for home and the 125s will have been here for 3 months. The world turns.

Special note to my boy P-Dimas who is now finishing the second week of his mid career hiatus and touring the red crescent to the north, con diao (alone). Proud of you brother. And also my boy Deeds whose son just decided to show up to this clown show we call life. Congratulations and give Aldice a head sniff for me.

RED

Yu song con

One week in our new home, one 5 foot snake crossed the road, one palm sized arachnid on the wall and one very severe case of streptococcus. Today, which is July 4th in Thailand, is approximately one week before our 6 month anniversary here. Next week we will depart south to celebrate 50 years of Peace Corps presence in Thailand with a few American and Thai dignitaries as well as many volunteers presently serving and from years past. Following the anniversary ceremony, our group, 124 will be meeting in another suburb or the BKK for our second training session which will last another two weeks. All said and done we will be out of our site for close to the rest of July and have a chance to swap stories and talk about progress with the rest of these crazy people who think they belong out here. While we have made some very close relationships at site, and are even able to communicate a little more than where we are going or coming from now, it is always nice to see some fellow Uh-mericans and get an idea of who has been more effective than you out her so far :)


Since we last spoke...
We have gotten out of under the wing of our host family for better or worse. We are eating a lot less MSG. I am now weighing in at just 64 kg, which takes me back to sophomore year in high school statistics, I think. No bread, no cheese and very limited beer has got me in the slim trousers. Our new house is quaint, cute, and now has drinking water, rice, a bed, and a bunch of tables in it. For me seems like a pretty good set up but for Erin seems like it needs a lot more work. We spent a good chunk of our "readjustment allowance" on the purchase of a nice queen size bed which ran us about 7,000THB. Our host mothers response when she heard about this price was that she has never seen or heard of a bed that cost seven thousand baht. Most of the Thai's that we live with sleep on what we have heard referred to as Thai beds. These Thai beds are spring-less mattresses about four of five inches thick and were a cause of many poor nights of sleep for us before we bought our new "ti-noan" (bed). I know that for many who may be reading this the word: "princess" or question: "what about hardship" may be coming to mind right about now. You can save it. There are plenty of other things to make someone miserable when living between jungle and rice paddy at 17 degrees latitude. Last week I discovered one in the form of a Thai strep throat virus. It started with a migraine level headache that lasted approximately 8 hours and then declined into a sub-migraine level headache that accompanied a fever for another couple days until turning into a sore throat that prohibited sleep throughout the weekend. As any one who has lived close to me can attest, although I am a person who likes to imbibe on fine barley and malt beverage, I rarely take medication, even Advil. Well this fix had me begging the the doc for something stronger that 800 mg Ibuprofen I was eating like PEZ. It has been a very rough week.

So six months in and how else are things besides sick again? Things are good. We continue to find ourselves in situations of incredibility and every so often it looks like I might actually have some serious work to do. While Erin is chugging away at the schools, I am still working on building relationships with various members of the community. We are taught that we must first create trust with people before even beginning to understand the issues and help with the solutions. It feels like I'm getting there. The public health workers I am now spending a lot of time with, have many good ideas and even specific plans for programs pertaining to topics I was brought here to help with. As soon as we return from the south next month, I am scheduled to begin teaching a class to all of the district public health workers. The idea is that I will focus on interaction between health and environment with related English terminology. My pressing goal is to get a local Thai tutor to further my speaking and reading skills. In our first visit from Peace Corps personnel last month, the office I am working in agreed to provide funding for projects; now I just need to get to writing them up and pounding the pavement (dirt road) some more.

Happy Fourth of July everybody! Put another piece of cheese on that burger for me.
RED

Dental work and other things: This one's for Nicole

I have been told that in the United States, they don't let you take your teeth with you after they've been extracted. I've never had a tooth pulled in the U.S., so I don't know if that's true, but what with our general American germophobia and whatnot, I wouldn't be surprised. (Biohazard, schmiohazard.)

Anyway, as you know, over a month ago now, I was in Bangkok to have my wisdom teeth (2, not 4) extracted, and I joked about having a cloth put over my face while they were yanked out.

Okay, so I wasn't joking. I went to the dentist, whose office is in a hospital, and within ten minutes, she was ready to yank the teeth. And then, when she got all her instruments set up, she literally put a cloth over my face (with a hole for my mouth), and went to work poking me in the upper and lower gums with local anesthetic. After I indicated, by drooling onto said cloth when prompted, that I was numb, the dentist began dutifully wrestling with my mouth. If I winced, I received an exasperated-sounding, "What's wrong?" but exasperation and concern sound a lot alike when emerging from  behind a face mask in someone's second language, so maybe I was taking that a little personally. Then I'd receive another shot, drool to show my gratitude, and the jaw-wrangling would begin again. I actually did think about Gloria Anzaldua's "How to Tame a Wild Tongue" (google it) while staring up at the blue cloth over my face and wondering just how much of a workout the dentist was getting. Ten minutes later, one tooth was out. I heard it plunk down onto the cold metal tray that had previously held the instruments. The dentist rearranged her chair to get a better angle on the upper tooth. That one gave up easily, perhaps not having the same vigorous spirit as its lower-jaw counterpart. Maybe its roots were just a little more shallow.

At any rate, five minutes later, the dentist was threading a needle and sewing up the two open wounds. Then everything was packed with gauze and I was sitting up, again drooling to show my appreciation. Soon, though that turned to disappointment when I realized that the doctor was actually not prescribing any follow up pain medication. "You were already given antibiotics and ibuprofen, correct?" she asked. I nodded. "Okay, well come back next week to get the stitches out." It's hard to say, "WTF?" when you are chewing on soggy gauze. So instead, I asked if I could have the teeth. Call it a consolation prize.

And now, they're sitting on my dresser - testament to the efficacy of local anesthesia, competent medical care, and ibuprofen in maximal doses.

Oh, and the other things: well, you'll just have to tune in next time.

GREEN.

This one's for my mom

A while ago, my mom sent us a postcard (only the second piece of mail we’ve received from state-side thus far) and she asked that when I get the time, I send a few recipes and instructions for cooking aa-haan Thai. Actually she asked about Thai food, but I just translated that for you.

At any rate, a few days or weeks from now, she’ll receive a postcard back with a recipe for naam-prik (or, well, really the translation on this doesn’t make a lot of sense, it’s “chile water” and it’s just an all important condiment that goes with everything here). But in the meantime, I’ve been wanting to write a blog about the cooking here (and not my cooking, either; I haven’t been doing any). (This is also the blog I meant to write almost a month ago that I reported I didn’t have the pictures for, and then entertained you all, and garnered some emails by posting a screen shot of my empty Gmail inbox.)

Anyway….When we moved to site, our neighbors had just started building another house next door to their own – between our house and theirs, actually. Within a month, the house, all one room plus bathroom on top of poured concrete floor and under steel roof was complete. By Songkran, a family had moved in (the sister of our neighbor, who owns the shop next door, and her family). A week later, Pii Gai, the sister who had just moved in, and her husband, Pii Lan, had turned the front of their new house into an extension of the shop. Another day or so passed, and Pii Gai and her mother had turned the back porch into a commercial kitchen, and they were selling two meals a day from the front of the house. Pii Gai is an excellent cook. Within about six days, her curries and soups had almost entirely replaced our mee’s cooking at home. We have also had a new social center. It took me about two weeks to get up the courage to venture over there, which I do almost every day now, and to sit myself down and try to “help” with the cooking. Seriously, a two year old is more help than me most times. I mean this literally, not theoretically, because our paa and mee’s grandson is often over there too, and he at least understands when he’s told to get out of the way, or hand someone the onions.

One day, I brought my camera over and snapped a few pictures while the ladies cooked up geeng kiaow waan (sweet green curry) and geeng som sai nommaai (orange curry with bamboo). I’ll let the pictures tell the story.

Side note for thought: Letting pictures tell the story is a new one for me. I am freakishly uncomfortable with cameras. (Being in Thailand is teaching me many things about my fears and discomforts.) I am rarely comfortable having my picture taken, although life in the digital age has forced me to come to terms with the fact that yes, 90 percent of the time when someone wants to take a picture, I’ll look funny in one way or another (usually rather large) and I should just get over it. Taking pictures, on the other hand, would seem to be comfortable compared to the alternative, but in fact it’s far worse. I have discovered I have a deep discomfort with intruding on other people or doing things without their permission, and somehow taking pictures falls into this category. (Using your nice shampoo without asking while staying the night at your house, however, does not. Fair warning. Go figure.) While snapping these photos, I felt like an absolute sore thumb. Thinking about this, I’ve gained an entirely new type of respect for my friend Jakob, who also happened to snap a great deal of fantastic shots at Josh’s and my wedding reception – and didn’t feel awkward at all! The camera makes me self conscious and clumsy – and that’s probably why so far, our blog (at least my posts) have been mostly devoid of visual aids. And will continue to be, until I get over this photo phobia, so I hope you can all make do with my words.

Word Lists

Today, as I mentioned in the previous post, I am not teaching, because my co-teacher is not here. He is instead at a teacher training in the Amphur Muang Sukhothai (the capital city of our jangwat). Side note: originally, I wasn't going to go. Then, yesterday, I was invited to go and told that I could attend all three days of the teacher training. So today at 7a.m., I was picked up by my co-teacher, and we drove the 25 km to the hotel in Sukhothai where the training was being held. We arrived at about 7:55, and were greeted as we walked to the conference hall by one of the trainers, whom I now, in hindsight, think may have been the same woman whose rental house Josh and I looked at just the other day. She greeted me in English, then spoke rapidly in Thai to my co-teacher, the gist of which I understood to be: Farangs aren't welcome here. She seemed quite flustered that I was there, and I gathered from her Thai explanation that they hadn't wanted Farangs to come to the training because the Thai teachers would then feel embarrassed about speaking in English and practicing their teaching techniques. To me, in English, she explained that none of the Farang teachers from her school had come, and that Farangs already know how to teach, so I would be bored for the three days of training. I assured her that I understood what she had said in Thai, and then I think she realized that I understood what she had said to my co-teacher, and so he and I turned around and he drove me back. And then I came to school, and he went back to Sukhothai for the all-Thai English-teacher training. Sigh.

The kids are pretty disappointed I'm not teaching - four of them came to find me and seem a little confused as to why I'm not. I had to break a rule that I've been trying to keep up - not using Thai to talk to the kids - in order to explain it to them. Of course, the rule has been bent at least five or six times before this morning - sometimes, like yesterday when I found myself teaching PE to a bunch of really hyperactive 8 to 12 year old girls, in skirts, no less, it just seems easier to tell them to put on their shoes or walk in a line in the language they understand! (Duh.) But we'll see how that impacts my authority, or my masquerade that I don't understand Thai, in the classroom next week.

At any rate, this is the second week in the classrooms and there have been some positive developments. I was able to convince one teacher that the books she uses are too difficult for the students, and that she and I will be better teachers if we plan more and use the books less. I am working on convincing the second teacher of the same concept, but that will take a little bit more preparation. He teaches six out of six periods per day, whether it be other English classes, PE, or art, and obviously that has left us little time to plan what we're going to do. So, right now I'm blogging while taking a break from searching our extensive Peace Corps volunteer wiki and various other resources for ideas on how to start the semester, essentially, over again in the next couple of weeks.

Specifically, I'm alternating between researching word lists and classroom management techniques.  I do not know how to manage 30 8-year-olds. For those of you teachers and parents out there, laugh it up. (And currently listening to another teacher teach the class that I would have been teaching had my co-teacher been here. Of course, it's all in Thai....) This weekend, I hope that the two of us will be able to make some decent progress on a course plan and some lesson plans. I will also need to figure out how and where to procure materials to make teaching materials (posterboards, glue, books, tape, markers, etc.). I know that lots of the teachers here use their own funds to stock their classrooms - I'm hoping I don't have to do that, and that the materials I end up making are durable enough to be used for a few years to come, so that my teachers can stop doing that, too.

And now, back to those word lists and humane reward-punishment systems... (Uh-oh - I just heard my name, "Kruu Erin" coming from the class I'm not teaching downstairs. What is the substitute teacher saying about me?)This is me learning to jai-yen-yen.