The one where I made a kid cry

The phrase ‘good conversation’ has become a very relative one lately.  If I’m able to make it through any exchange in Thai, no matter what it’s about, I consider it a good conversation.  I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few very interesting people since I’ve been here and have learned a lot in several actually good conversations with them (these people can all speak English fairly well, which has been great not only for my sanity, but because I can talk about things in addition to what I’m doing here, where I’m from and what I like to eat).  I’ve learned bits and pieces of the history of Thailand and the history of my community and surrounding area (the province I’m living in was only established as its own province in 1993, and is the second newest province in Thailand).  I’ve learned about Thai people and my community from the people who have lived and grown up here; I’ve also learned about some of the many realistic challenges I’ll face in the next two years.  I’ve been careful not to ask too many probing questions - with all of the other personal challenges that are presented on a daily basis I don’t want to focus on the potential barriers and become disheartened about the things I’ve come here to do before I even get started on them. 

 Last week I went to stay with another family in a neighboring village in my area.  I was excited because this family had a little boy about 6 years old, and while I love kids in general, I love playing with Thai kids – they’re so much easier for me to talk to, likely because they’re more on my language level.  I spent most of my time with him, and when it ended up storming so bad later in the evening that the power went out, he clung to me like a monkey and wouldn’t leave my side.  I had a couple small flashlights in my bag, so I got them out and we took turns making scary faces at each other while his parents set up candles so we could eat dinner.  The thunderstorm was awesome and was accompanied by a lightning show that went on nonstop for hours.  It was pitch black outside and the doors and windows were open – there was an amazing breeze outside, which was especially refreshing considering it’s so incredibly hot every day.  Having never experienced a thunderstorm blackout in rural Thailand before, I kept nervously glancing toward the open doors, slightly terrified that I’d see a scary man standing in the doorway with a knife/machete/bamboo stick, waiting to attack every time the lightning struck.  This was also the same night I experienced my first ‘bucket bath’.  I had opted to wait until before bed to shower, and as I walked into the bathroom with my flashlight to provide a little bit of light so I could see what I was doing, I regretted my decision to wait.  It wasn’t as bad as I imagined it…it’s kind of like a bath…but without sitting in the actual water…kind of.  One of our days of training included demonstrations on how to take a bucket bath along with how to use a squat toilet, and I was happy to have successfully experienced both of these so early in my PC experience (though I’m happy to have a ‘normal’ shower on a regular basis).  Unfortunately I’ve somehow gotten into a bad habit of forgetting to bring my towel into the bathroom with me when I shower, so I either end up getting dressed while wet (which I absolutely hate doing), or drying off with the parts of my dirty clothes that aren’t drenched in sweat (I’m pretty much perpetually dirty here, so that doesn’t really gross me out much).  The next day I went to the Local Health Station to get an idea of what goes on there and help with some home visits.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the home visits turned out to be much more than I bargained for as we were visiting a few very elderly people in the area to treat their bed sores.  Let’s just say there’s a reason I never actually wanted to go through with my fleeting childhood aspirations to become a doctor.  I had to put considerable effort into keeping my face expressionless while trying to look anywhere else but at pockets of bone and skin.  We ended up back at the health station where I recovered with one of the aforementioned really good conversations (in English).  Lunch that day consisted of a whole lot of food (as always) and about 20 people on a floating dock/restaurant.  I let the little boy I had spent the previous day with play with my iphone since there was a game on there he had quickly become obsessed with….eventually I took it away and told him he could play with it later when we got back to the health station since it was getting dangerously close to going in the lake.  What eventually followed was an epic tantrum.  Having noticed that this kid seems to get whatever he wants no matter what, I was determined to stand my ground no matter how loud he screamed.  As we made our way back to the health station in a car with 5 adults and 1 screaming child, I wondered if this was the best time to be trying to teach a lesson to this kid that’s not mine (but I was still determined to not back down and give him his way).  I wasn’t sure what the other adults in the car thought of the situation, or if I was breaking some sort of cultural rules/norms or just being a stupid American that won’t share her toys (although sometimes I really just don’t like sharing – I blame middle child syndrome).  They took the kid home and that was the end of that – I wasn’t sure if I should feel successful since I didn’t back down or terrible because I made a kid cry.  He eventually forgave me, as the next time I saw him he was the same clinging monkey I met the first time. 

I wish I could write about all the amazing work I’m starting here, but I haven’t really done anything yet.  My days consist of riding my bike to work, playing on the internet for a while (if it’s working…such a treat since I don’t have it at home), getting escorted to meetings where I listen to a whole lot of stuff I don’t really understand and then give a brief introduction/speech in Thai, going with my coworkers for a 2 hour lunch/coffee break, maybe coming back to the office for a bit (the internet seems to not work as well in the afternoon so I pretend to study Thai or something), then biking to wherever the local market is to hang out with my host mom and eat some fruit/shop.  Most of the day is spent confused, wondering what’s really going on or where I’m being taken.  This past weekend I set out on yet another bike adventure (my go to activity right now when I don’t have anything to do).  I took a small road near my house into the fields to see where it would go.  Eventually the dirt road turned into a paved one and led to what has become my favorite spot in my community – open fields with hills and mountains and a pretty amazing view.  I eventually made my way back to where I came from, but chose to continue on the paved ‘road’ instead of taking the dirt one right back to my house.  I figured it had to lead somewhere, and when I eventually ended up in a nearby village that had a road leading back out to the highway that I live on, I felt like I had actually accomplished something.  For about five whole minutes my life here made sense, and it was awesome.