monk journals.

Monk journal update:

From Moei (second from the left), Thursday January 28th.

I have two are cat. they are friends with me. I give them food everyday. When I sad I have them play with me. They are pretty and they are help each other. They are play with people everyday.

When I watches news on the t.v. I saw earthquak in Haity. many people die. When I watches. I am feel sad and people poor in the Haity.

From my new student, Yeejun (not in the picture), Friday, January 29th.

I'm Yeejun. I have many friends. They are very good my friend. Sometime I have homwork they help me. Sometimes what they have I help they too. My friends are they live in Wat Pha Thak Mae Sai. I love they very much.

Pringles and Canadian idealism

I did it. I clicked the 'new post' button. :) I am so proud of myself!

I struggle; with a contradiction.
Mrs. Barth said that we're all equals.
No one is better or worse than anyone else,
Colouring the white face beside the black, beside the brown.
'Red and yellow, black and white, we are precious in his sight...'

My mind adamantly screams, 'we are equal!'
yet my friend Menut, tells me again how blessed her family was to have me in their house.
me!
That her Mom never believed they would actually have a foreigner in their house.

My mind stubbornly states, 'there is no different between me and you!'
and I can say that, because I'm richer than they are.
If they were to say that, it would be a joke. and they would laugh.
and we would hide the UDHR behind our backs, smile nervously, and back away.

Ach! I'm not trying to write to rise emotions. I just don't know how to deal with what I see here. I've decided I don't have culture shock, I culture fatigue. I'm tired from seeing so many kids not loved. From seeing so much in justice. As an educated Canadian, I'm exhausted from seeing so much inequality. Though, probably not as tired as my 'equals' here who work long hours building houses in flipflops, or who drag bags of recycling across the city with a baby on their hip to make the 10Baht or so from a bag of bottles, or even those who cook noodles all day to make a pittance.

It's just that... we all like to hear something that makes us feel good, but there's so dang much in the world that we just can't feel good about.

Did you know that there are 300 million people in China who make less than one dollar a day? Phew! That's ten times the amount of people IN Canada! I always said, 'well, that's not that bad, their currency is worth a lot less than ours.' But... even on the other side of the world you can barely keep from starving/freezing on one dollar day. And it gets really cold during the winter. To fight for the right to live is a little less than the full potential available for humanity.

So, as I walked home from Tesco Lotus on a depression-fueled shopping trip after I had visited an other NGO kid's shelter this morning, I devoured a 'convenienze-sized' packet of Pringles, and two cinnamon buns. I also bought TimTams and a little container of Yeast, so I can attempt to make bread in my little toaster oven. I walked past the school where two girls I know attend, who shouted out their classroom window, 'Phi Nicci!! bai nai?' (Older sister Nicci! Where are you going/whats up?). I also met the man down my street who always attempts to speak English to me and who actually kind of creeps me out a bit... he asked me where I had been, and that he thought I went back to 'America'... 'no, no, I haven't... I bike here every morning and every night, like usual... 'okay, see you later...' So, I walked on, him with a dejected look on his face like he had been waiting to talk to me for 3 weeks and I had just blown him off, and depressed me with my outrageously priced bag of potato chips feeling like I don't know how to do anything right. *sigh.

And that's where my head is at :).
I'm not usually sad. I'm usually quite happy. Tired, but happy.
But, sometimes reality hits me.
That we're all not living adventures, and when I go home in two months, they will still be here. Year after year. That they're not just playing parts in a play, and I just happened to get a sweet role. Hm.


These are my grade ones :).
When I get depressed about the inequality of life I like to go on my friend Katie's blog at http://kfar.blogspot.com/ . She lives in Budapest and she creates stuff. And it's refreshing.

I also bought a chocolate chip cookie mix today and am excited to see if I can make cookies in my toaster oven... :)

oh fun :)

Cycling back from dinner on my little blue one-speed with the passenger seat. Sarah sped ahead on her motorcy. I wrinkled my nose, and my muscles rose to the challenge; half way home Sarah had stayed the same distance ahead of me as when I had decided to race her... ‘Nicola, wouldn’t it would be nice to pedal home slowly and enjoy the evening?’. A grin stole across my face and a terribly embarrassing giggle erupted out of me (if anyone had been there to hear it), and I retorted to myself that I am fully enjoying the evening. My eyes on Sarah’s motorcy, I calculated every rise and fall of the road. I can pretend that I know exactly when to pedal and when not to in order to go as fast as I can. On my little too-small blue one-speed with the passenger seat. These tires stopped only seconds after Sarah’s. Collapsing with both fits of laughter and muscle aches in front of the gate... that was so fun. ‘I’m sorry... I didn’t know we were racing’. :) . Hehe... if you had, it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.

Last night I went to my Burmese friends’ house for dinner again. I adore them. Orang and I got to talk again over dishes... I’m so glad they let me help wash dishes. The best conversations start while washing or drying dishes I think. Or piling logs. Hm, anyway I asked all about his family, about his siblings, about what his Mom was like before she died last year (of Cancer I think). And then he let me listen to a CD he made when a visiting Australian came and recorded his songs for him. I can’t wait to have you listen to this music... I can’t describe it. I can’t carry on a conversation worth anything when he sings; we just sat there, drinking coffee and listening. He told me about each of his eight siblings, and what they do now. His oldest brother went to work in the fishing industry down South, and I asked if he had ever been to visit. He said that no, he had left when Orang was two and they had never heard of him since... that means he left when he was 10 or 11 years old. Trafficking for the fishing industry is huge here too; they take boys from the rural north and have them swim to untangle fishing nets... but most of the time the boys can’t swim (clearly, because they live on rural farms) and the death toll is huge. That’s just so crazy to me... how normal it is... for kids to not even remember their siblings names... I also found out that his name is actually ‘All Rain’, and is only pronounced ‘Orang’. He said his grandmother had been taught English by the colonists and when it was raining profusely on his birth, decided to call him, ‘All Rain’. Sweet name.

I received an e-mail after the earthquake in Haiti about the risks inherent to all the abandoned, orphaned, and unstable women and children there and how agents of trafficking have flocked there to take advantage of people in their dire need. Oh... *groan... please Lord, care for your people in Haiti... and press us to pray, more, more, more.

Still enamoured with my bright blue bicycle with a basket, and proudly the only one in town who wears a helmet while riding a bike (even after a Thai stopped me and told me it wasn't necessary),

Nicola.

just thoughts.

I had dinner at my Burmese friends' house tonight :). I also started teaching at the little Burmese migrant school today. I will teach Monday, Tuesday, and Thursdays from 12:30 until 3:15; grades 3 and 4. I also convinced the teachers at DEP to allow me to have the grade 2's and 5/6's every Wednesday afternoon so we can prepare a Peter Pan theatre production for the end of term.

It was so cute today... I don't know Burmese (only a few words) so I must only rely on charades, my drawing abilities, and their english to communicate with my students at the little Burmese school. One girl stood up and held her index finger to her lips, and motioned that she wanted to go out. I allowed, and a couple minutes she was at the door again with her finger to her lips. I couldn't understand what she wanted, and had to call an other teacher over-- in the end all she wanted was permission to come back in the classroom! Wow. Totally different culture. I don't understand anything all over again :S.

-- The picture is from the night of Burmese Carolling --

I sat with my Burmese 'Karin' friends Orang, Gaywaa, Menut, and Seng tonight after dinner in their little kitchen at the Bible College that they go to. There are... four students. Menut is the translator because Seng doesn't speak English very well. An other student lives in Tachilek (border town just across the river in Myanmar) most of his time because he is planting a Church in the dump there. It is a Bible College, but's its in like... a big house :). I think I'm fond of those kind of places ;). Anyway... I'm at a loss. I think I need to phone up my friend in Chiang Mai again- the one who's married to a Burmese 'Karin' woman. I just want to be friends... yet... we live such different lives. I am becoming more and more ashamed of my white face. I want to kiss their feet; declare that I don't know why I was born in Canada, that I don't know why they were born in Burma. Why I can travel the whole world with the money I made in two months, and they will never be able to leave Myanmar for more than six days. Why Menut only had one set of clothes until she was in high school, why I can speak the most influential language in the world without any effort or cost, why... *sigh.

I posted my message.
and then have come back and edited it. I deleted more than half of it I think.
Is that allowed?
Can I edit my thoughts to you?

I'm scared to appear dumb. Scared to admit that I'm falling in love with these people. Scared of my own cowardice by only commiting six months. Scared of going back to my own life in Canada and leaving people here, as an adventure, as 'real live Burmese people', as blog stories, as characters in a BA thesis... to have the freedom to come and go... it kind of makes me want to throw up. How can I leave these people and just go back to my life? I also deleted garble about how easy it is to love people when you know you have a time limit and how hard committed loyal relationships are. I am not worthy or experienced enough to represent either subject.

Just weak, just ordinary, just trying, just like you,
nicola

Today.

Today I saw grown men, maybe fifty years old, playing hackey-sack with a woven wicker ball better than any boys I've ever seen. They were giggling and laughing and teasing each other; men coming from all directions to play a hilltribe sport they all learned when they were young. I watched in fascination.

Today was Children's day: 'wan dek', in Thai. All the kids brought a present to school to exchange. Last night I bought a little red fish and fish food to wrap up for a present. I waited all day and was so excited that one of my students- a careful, patient little girl, picked my number and I could explain to her that she needed to feed it 6 pellets twice a day, and that I have one just like it and like it a lot. She cradled the little package in her arms, unwrapped except for a little window in the top, like she was carrying her most precious possession. :)

Today I taught my monks. Oh my, they make me laugh so much. I collected their journals tonight and have to share a couple exherbts...

from Moei's, about his family:
My family have five people. My father, my mother, my brother, my sister, and I. My father and my mother they are farmer. My brother and my sister they are painter. And I, I am a monk. But my family happy so much. I love my family so much.

From La's, after the only evening of my class he has ever missed:
Today I am waking up morning and breakfast with my friends. I went shopped with my friends and I went not to the school I am sorry teacher. I had a good day. How old are you?
(oh, when I read this I teared up; wow, La cracks me up so much!)

Today as I waited for them to finish an excercise... I just... oh. I can't imagine leaving them. I adore them. I've been realizing more and more that I am falling head over heals for my students. I care about them, about where they're going to go in the next couple years, about their thought processes, about their lives. La told me he wanted to be a police officer tonight. Thailand needs good police officers, but its very difficult to be a good one in Thailand... it seems the occupation is based on bribery and manipulation here. Today I went to my little group of food stalls again and Naun wasn't there... I asked and they said she left. *sigh. I asked the fruit lady (who gave me fresh fruit for a New Year's present! lovely) if she missed her, and she said that no, she left. Hmm. well I miss her. I get far too attached to people. I just... wish she said goodbye. I guess I'm getting to know how it must feel for people whom are visited by short-term aid workers like me. They get attached and then we leave, and it hurts. And then next time they have learned and they won't get so attached... That mustn't be very healthy.

I love people watching, the simplicity and utter dependence of pet fish, and my Monks :).

Creating story and accidentally eating dog, blech.

I finished the book that I had talked about (yet sheepishly not finished when I talked about it). I didn't know how good 'A Million Miles in a Thousand Years' by Don Miller was before I actually read it... haha, and am now thinking that I was completely unworthy of using his book as a basis for my blog/footnote on my trip to Thailand ;). He talks a lot about creating story, and the importance of a narrative/story in your life. He talks about writing a book, and if you never get your character to do anything or think anything, it won't be a very interesting book. So. I decided I would intentionally make myself do stuff to create story in my life :). Hehe, and I had such great adventures! I like story.

Last week was New Year's Break. I caught the first bus to Chiang Mai to see my friend Courtney before she left for Vietnam on the 27th. She was on a study abroad term and stayed with my host family for two months. As soon as I got to Chiang Mai I missed Mai Sai a lot. I had decided I would do at least one tourist thing before I went home, however. I wandered past a kayak/raft adventure tourism place, and decided I would check it out... I miss kayaking so much! It was actually the same people whom I had kayaked with the previous march. So, Wednesday I had an awesome day kayaking, took my nose ring out in order to wear a noseplug, couldn't get it back in afterwards, and now I am nakedly nose-ringless. My identity shall have to get over it until I'm back in Canada and Jonna can hold my hand again while they stick a needle through my nose. bah. I woke up early the next morning, thinking how much I love kayaking, and decided to wander past the store again... just to see if they had an extra spot. They had ONE spot left in the van so I went completely unprepared-- except for knowing I had left my wet clothes in the bathroom at the take out point by accident-- at least I had kayaking clothes to wear in hopes that they hadn't been stolen. The kayaking was awesome again, though I got stuck on a rock in the middle and had to pull my skirt... *sigh. so embarrassing. We kayaked by a elephant, all muddy and chilling eating leaves in the jungle, other elephants being driven across the river, a big water snake, and kids that splashed us as we went by. Mmm... one of my favourite parts about kayaking is the last slow stretch where you're glad you're still breathing air, your face is intact, and you're just so pumped on life. I popped my skirt, hung my legs out the side of the kayak and took my helmet off, splashing and laughing with the other rafters and kayakers. Life is good. By the end of the two days I had made pretty good friends with the kayak and raft guides (I think they were pretty impressed... my friend Nop said he had never seen a girl kayak before). These guys were all best friends that grew up in a hilltribe close to the one we were at. Jason Younkin, a guy from California that started the company found these guys and taught them to kayak so they could work for him. They are... some of the best kayakers I have seen. Effortless bow stalls and cartwheels... it's amazing. It was interesting actually, talking to them. They're all unmarried from 21 to 25ish; they said there's no one to marry: the girls in their village their age had left long ago. Mmm. Interesting to get a new perspective on the situation. They asked me where I was going for new years that night and then invited me to stay up at the bamboo raft lodge with them if I had nothing else to do. There was also an American couple there; a volunteer safety kayaker and his girlfriend that I had gotten a long well with, so I thought, 'hm. spend a night in crowd surrounded by drunk tourists in Chiang Mai or in the mountains with river people...' yes. We climbed up into the pile of rafts stacked three on top of each other on a farm truck and rode up the mountain again on washed out roads ducking low tree branches. I think I may actually like road rafting better than river rafting... ;). The hilltribe village the lodge was in was beautiful... connected over the river by a wood and cable suspension bridge that swung madly as soon as you stepped on it. I spent the evening between the guest house on the opposite side of the river and the raft lodge. I've been finding that New Year's is a bit like Christmas here. You say, 'Happy New Years!' instead of 'Merry Christmas!'. Because I only had about 4baht in my bag (I gave all my money I had in my bag to go kayaking for an other day, and I was still 600baht short... but they let me come anyway-yay!), the owner of the guest house gave me a beer because 'everyone has to have a beer on new years' :S. I spent new years eating fish that one of the guys had caught in the river and we had cooked over our little beach campfire. My friend Nop cooked a late night snack that he said was pork... but as I was eating it I was like, 'um. Nop, are you sure this is pork? I don't think it is. are you sure?' And sure enough, I turned over a piece of meat... and saw an unmistakable jaw of a dog. complete with the teeth. 'Nop. this is dog'. 'oh. haha. yeah it is.' wHHaaattt!!!??? I guess every person that goes overseas needs to try dog. oh man. You'll know if you try it. It doesn't taste like pork. The next day I was checking out dog teeth to make sure it was a match... aghh... yep. I totally ate dog. ew. (story. story. story... blech.)

The night before, I had made friends with a family over the river. They were going to deliver blankets and toys to a hilltribe village on New years day and invited Stephanie (the kayaker's girlfriend) and I to come along. Yes please! They gave a lovely fuzzy blanket to each family and gave loads of school stuff to the school and New Years presents to the kids. Hehe... I found a little boy at his house and he said he wanted a truck. So I went over to the box where they were giving out toys, found a sweet big hydraulic dump truck and came over to deliver it to him at his house. Ahaha! his eyes went so big and said thankyou about 5 times. Hm. I totally don't agree with materialism and just giving things to people to make them happy. BUT... yeah I don't have any excuses... ;). I also got to go bamboo rafting with them back down the raft lodge! We hiked in for about an hour to the river, and then bamboo rafted for about 2 hours... one of the kids in the family was an autistic boy... and I just LOVED watching how the family doted on him and enjoyed his presence and companionship. All I wanted to do was take pictures of his little brother making sure he was okay, his Mom holding his hand, or his Father giving him piggy-back rides. He and his family were more beautiful than the stunning mountains, jungle, and waterfalls around us, hands down.

I ended up getting back to Chiang Mai on Saturday afternoon because they didn't want me to hitch a ride with anyone else going back. I think they felt really protective over me... the son of the owner/chief of the village said I would only need about 2 more weeks on the river and I could be a volunteer safety kayaker! YES PLEASE. I love that place... it was so lovely to be in such a tranquil environment with no pressure... there was no internet and my cell battery was dead, even if there had been a network around to let me receive any calls. I rode in the back of a truck taking pictures with the photographer and the safety crew... hehe I watched as a mahout (elephant trainer man) pointed to things at a little convenience store while sitting on the back of an elephant.. it gave a whole new meaning to a drive in... hehe. Man. That was good for me :). I miss being dirty, bare-feet, water, and campfires... I think I wore the same t-shirt four days in a row :S.

I had a hilarious evening on Saturday night with my Mom and little brother in Chiang Mai- we went to see Sherlock Holmes together and ate expensive cakes. Wow. my little brother is so hilarious. I could joke around with him for hours. He was trying to carry me in the parking lot, and needless to say I ended up sprawled out on the cement, both of us in fits of laughter.

I am now back in Mae Sai, alone for the week as Sarah is in the South with her boyfriend who is visiting from America. I have suspicions she'll come back with a ring on her finger ;). There are 15 or so students from a University in Wisconsin here for the next two weeks running an arts and dance camp for the kids. It's so great to see what my kids are capable of! Even the boys are getting into like.. ballet-type dancing. wow. Surprises everywhere. I wish I was 15 people. I wish I had that kind of energy even after two months. But... I'm getting tired. Tired and kind of discouraged and out of ideas. But its so good to see people here loving the kids. I wish they could stay forever.

On Monday when my monks came to class they surprised me with a New Years Present! 'Happy New Year Teacher!'. Oh! I'm so emotional. Beautifully wrapped, a little glass figurine of two birds and a big box of TimTams--- delicious Australian chocolate cookies :). I went to my favourite group of food stalls afterwards and shared them with all my friends. A lot of things are changing around the food stalls. I cried a couple of nights ago because I didn't want anything to change there; they feel like family. The milkman (Asoe) got deported to Burma and he's never coming back. I never even got to say goodbye. And the lady who makes Khow Pat Gai and Patsee-ew hasn't been here for the last week because her Mom died. It hurts to think that their lives are so different then mine. Tonight at CLC I taught Moei, Dang, Arnone, La, two other younger monks that joined the class, and two Burmese women who also joined the class, the history of Christmas day, and why it's celebrated. I had written a simple version of the Christmas story, had them write it down, learned the vocabulary, and read the story. Hm. It was pretty cool :). It felt funny talking to Buddhist monks about Jesus... haha, I probably wasn't allowed... but oh well ;).

Alright. So. Creating story. It's a great motivator to get out of bed in the morning ;). I've been trying intentionally to convince myself, 'if I don't do it now, I just won't even do it. I'll just always make excuses.' So, when I go past a guy selling pets and think, 'I would like to buy a fish', I force myself to turn around a buy a fish. My fish is lovely :). It's name is fsh. Once someone told me a joke about a fish with no eye that was called 'fsh'. My fish has eyes... But I still think the joke is funny :). Anyway. Just trying to grasp opportunities and such.

I've also just began an online course on Peace and Conflict Studies through the University Of Waterloo. The lectures and texts seems really great so far :).

Blessings friends.
Nicola