We Hit Pai, and Pai Hit Back, AKA What Would We Have Done Without Ed and Wendy?

You can’t help but be taken in by the charm of Pai as soon as you drive in. Of course, some of it is simply relief from making it to the end of a three hour (north of Chiang Mai) endlessly winding uphill journey. Besides that, you can instantly see why so many expats make Pai their home, or at least get “stuck” there for a while. It’s beautiful, friendly, cheap ($2 dinners and $6 massages) and just seems to exude relaxation from its pores. The focus is definitely on living in the moment—generally not my long suit, but I am improving a bit every day. One expat (coincidentally from Connecticut) made the cynical if incredibly astute comment that they are all so busy living in the moment that no one actually does anything. Hence the town motto: “do nothing in Pai.” We stayed at a cute little bungalow resort with natural hot spring showers. The guy who ran the place was kind of an interesting fellow—the son of a patient of Ed’s. He was from Greenwich, CT and had left to live in Thailand 6 or 7 years ago.

We did our best to get into the spirit of Pai. For a new adventure, we rented motor bikes to tool around town (note to grandparents—we went slow, wore helmets and, no, the kids did not ride their own—OK I did wipe out once, but I was barely moving and just scraped my knee). Then, we decided to have an afternoon at the waterfall…

It all started out well. The kids tore off their clothes and jumped in as per normal. The adults had just settled in for a few minutes of peaceful conversation when we heard panicked screams from Emma and Jessica that Maya had fallen. Both girls are slightly prone toward histrionics and we had been through this drill with them before on many occasions, so we weren’t especially worried, but, in an abundance of caution, we ran to where Maya was. Not such a false alarm this time—Maya had slipped at the top of the waterfall and slid 20 or 30 feet down on her stomach before bumping her head as well as several other parts of her body and landed in the water at the bottom. Ed, thankfully a doctor, got down the slippery rocks to where Maya was first, did his best to calm her and assess her condition. Emma was hysterical—completely freaked that Maya was seriously hurt—so I stayed with her while Adam slid down to Ed to attend to Maya. There was a fairly large cut above her eye and Ed immediately determined she needed stitches. We quickly gathered our stuff, hopped back on the motorbikes and headed toward Pai Hospital which we had fortuitously passed on the way up (I actually recall making a mental note when we passed it that I hoped not to see the inside of it—oh well).

I was still so focused on calming everyone down and making sure Maya was OK, that I didn’t have time to freak out myself. I think the reality finally hit me when I was holding Maya’s hands as the seemingly competent (if completely devoid of any bedside manner) doctor was stitching her up (8 stitches). I had been feeling a bit under the weather that morning anyway and was suddenly drenched in sweat in the midst of a wave of nausea and light headedness. It must have been the combination of intense heat and stress—but I sat down and managed to keep it together while the doctor finished. Fortunately, Ed was there to talk us through it all—assuring Maya and I that the doctor was doing a great job and all the right things. The hospital was not nearly as bad as I had expected and I was particularly pleased when Ed noted that they were employing all of the appropriate sanitary and sterilizing procedures. I recall noting the nurse taking the suture kit out with tongs and gloves and being incredibly grateful that we were not in Africa. I had the opportunity to witness a procedure in the hospital in Tanzania in which no gloves were used and there was blood all over the floor and did not relish the thought of having to avail ourselves of their services.

Maya was understandably shaken up so we got her some Mexican food (her idea of comfort food) and had the kids relax and watch a movie. She spent the next few days in pain, looking like she had gone a few rounds with George Forman and discovering new scrapes bruises and aches on various parts of her body on almost and hourly basis. Despite that, she was in reasonably good spirits and had a healthy sense of humor about the whole thing once the original crisis was over.

The next day we all (except for Adam, who was making travel arrangement) went riding and swimming with the elephants. Maya had to refrain from swimming with the elephants (we both sat on ours and thoroughly enjoyed watching the others as they frolicked in the river with the enormous and playful pachyderms), but other than that, she has managed to continue with our adventures. She also had us eating out the palm of her hand for the first few days and has managed to procure soda at every meal since the accident and a foot massage (she kindly got her sister in on that deal as well).

All in all—it was a bit more excitement than we were planning for the trip, but it could have been a lot worse. Our plan was to leave Pai for a 7 hour car ride and then a 2 day, somewhat rugged boat trip down the Meekong River to Luang Prabang (Laos). Under the circumstances, we decided to skip the boat, head back to Chiang Mai to have another doctor give her a look and then fly to Luang Prabang. In retrospect, it was a good move as the boat would have been very uncomfortable for Maya and the medical system in Luang Prabang appears to be non existent. In fact, we are likely to have an Israeli medic who we met at the local Chabad Shabbat remove the stitches rather than brave the “hospital” here.

We are all exceedingly grateful to Ed and Wendy. They were unbelievably helpful and reassuring throughout. It feels like an odd stroke of luck (for us-not them) that it happened the day before they were leaving. They changed and cleaned the dressing for Maya, evaluated the medicine she was prescribed and got all of our questions answered—even when it required calling the states and various doctor friends and family at all hours. I am actually not sure what we would have done had they not been there (other than call them every 5 minutes with questions). I am sure they could have thought of a million other ways to spend their last days in Southeast Asia, but their deep care and concern for Maya was unreserved. Adam and I both felt that they were caring for Maya in no less the manner than they would have cared for their own children. On our return to Chiang Mai, we dropped Ed and Wendy, and their kids, off at the airport for the beginning of their return trip home. We were very sad to see them go, not only for their medical oversight of Maya, but also because we knew we would miss them greatly. Traveling with friends is a risky proposition (especially for five weeks), but, in this instance, it only served to further enhance an already close and important relationship. We look forward to many more adventures together—to places other than the ER.

Chiang Mai

Given the lackluster experience we had in Trang, we were not especially sad to leave and begin our next adventure. We had a week left with the Levines to explore Northern Thailand together and headed for Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai is the second biggest city in Thailand, with a laid back, yet somewhat cosmopolitan and sophisticated vibe. We found a charming little hotel with a pool, in walking distance to most of the action and settled in for a couple days of eating, shopping and relaxing. I am still torturing my children by limiting our purchases to nothing larger than a pack of gum since I can’t imagine adding anything else to our already overwhelming amount of luggage. I keep promising a shopping spree in Bangkok, right before we leave for Israel, so we mostly took notes while the Levines made their purchases.

We did the requisite visit to the exquisite Wat Phrarat Doi Suthep, where we climbed 300 hundred steps, rang the bells, viewed the spectacular architecture and received a blessing from a monk. We have had so many of these blessings that by now we have probably unwittingly converted to Buddhism. We can’t understand a word they say during the blessings, but I’ve got to assume they are positive and I am loath to turn down anyone willing to give me a blessing. Ed, assuming the “Jew light” had gone on when we walked into the Wat, had a more sinister interpretation of the monk’s words which caused me to giggle uncontrollably and inappropriately throughout. I just hope the monk was too focused on wishing us luck, happiness and prosperity to notice. Of course, in retrospect, Ed may have been correct, or perhaps he was offended by my giggling (see “Pai” blog entry).

My favorite Chiang Mai experience was the evening cooking school. We started by selecting our dishes and then shopping in the local market for the ingredients with an adorable Thai women who was passionate about her cooking and food. By the fifth hour, the kids (and Ed) had enough, but we all had blast cooking, eating and learning the secrets of Thai cuisine—all of which I can’t wait to bring home and share.

We all loved Chiang Mai and felt we could have stayed for much longer, but Pai was awaiting… so off we went. Little did we know we would be returning.

Conclusion of Thailand Volunteering

On March 22, we concluded the volunteering portion of our time in Thailand. It was a nice day. We brought in donuts for the kids. We have found that they like us more when we give them things. Go figure?! After an hour or so of English, each of the boys lined up and offered roses to Melissa and me. Each approached us individually and handed us a rose, gave us a short bow and said, in English (kind of), “thank you.” It was a touching gesture, even though it was clear that the boys were merely doing this at the request of the administration. This was followed by lunch with the Director of the facility. He barely speaks a word of English, so there were many awkward silences, but that too was a sweet gesture on his part. We then returned to do our final English class for the staff, and were then given a warm farewell. We seemed to spend hours taking photos with every possible combination of students and staff—many more than seemed warranted given we had spent a total of seven days with them. It was as though we were foreign dignitaries and they needed to document our visit for posterity.

Melissa and I ended up enjoying our placement at the juvenile detention center. Although, I think I enjoyed it more than Melissa. Melissa felt, with some justification, that teaching English to the juvies was not really a real value-add to the juvie’s lives and that they found the placement to make sure we had something to do. She may be right, but I see it a bit differently. I think they enjoyed their time with us and, while learning English is not (as it was in Tanzania) a true prerequisite to economic advancement, it certainly has some value and I also think that, at a minimum, we’re positive role models. If nothing else, they saw it as a fun break from an otherwise dull routine.

During the last few days of the placement, one of the staff members, who had been on vacation when we started volunteering, joined us as prime liaison between Melissa and me and the kids. This woman seemed absolutely psychotic to us. Indeed, she seemed to be possessed of the stalker personality. She would continually interrupt us, as we were teaching the kids to offer us food or to simply chat with us. It was very odd. She also fashioned herself as a competent English speaker. Now, in fairness to her, her English was better than our Thai, but that ain’t saying much. But even this was a source of irritation to us. As we were working with the kids, she would give them the answers to our various questions (she did the same when we taught the staff). It was very annoying and completely bizarre.

Also, the Thai people have a tendency to not want to admit when they don’t understand something, which is both funny and frustrating. This behavior seemed even more pronounced in our psychotic administrator. She would continually say “yes” to questions that she either did not understand at all or required a more nuanced response. For instance, at the class with the staff:

Melissa: Will you please ask the Assistant Director (one of our students) to describe her role here.
Psychotic Administrator: Yes (smiling widely).
Melissa: Great. [But the Psychotic Administrator did not say anything to the Assistant Director].
Melissa: So please tell the Assistant Director to describe her job duties.
Psychotic Administrator: Yes (still smiling) [again nothing happened].
Melissa (her patience beginning to fray): So you will ask the Assistant Director to describe her job duties, lplease?
Psychotic Administrator: Yes (still smiling) [Again nothing happened.]
Melissa then jumped across the table and slowly strangled the Psychotic Administrator, while I and the other staff smiled widely. Okay, that part did not happen, but that was my consistent fantasy.

While, I ended up somewhat enjoying our volunteer placement, our experience in Trang CCS paled by comparison to our experience in Tanzania. Melissa and I are still frustrated and extremely disappointed in CCS Thailand, particularly given how much we paid to volunteer. Besides having absolutely nothing for us to do for our first week (1/3 of our time there) we are now even more frustrated that CCS has not offered us anything other than platitudes for the failure of the organization to provide what was promised. Our kids continued to do their separate placements at two local pre-schools and they seemed fairly happy with the opportunity and enjoyed experiences with Thai children. However, somewhat like our own placements, it felt as if they were just thrown into an environment irrespective of actual need. Feeling unneeded can be demoralizing. While the needs in Thailand in general are clearly not as great as in Tanzania, it’s hard to imagine that our time (including the kids’) could not have been put to better use.

The experience at the CCS home base was also very different than the experience we enjoyed in Tanzania. I know that our friends, the Levines, are sick to death of hearing us drone on and on about Tanzania, but the fact is that, but for the Levines being there, the experience simply paled by comparison. Melissa and I have talked about this and have concluded that there are a number of reasons.

First, as we have already discussed, the failure to have a placement when we arrived was irksome. It was even worse having to experience the Levines lack of placement for much longer, and even once their placements were supposedly set, it was still very much day by day for them.

Second, the community that we had here in Thailand was simply not what it was in Tanzania. We really made some good friends in Tanzania, both Tanzanian and Western. There are many people that we will endeavor to keep in touch with, who we want to see again. They embraced us and our kids with warmth and generosity. Indeed, many of them are wonderful role models for our daughters. In my view there were three factors contributing to the lack of community in Thailand (the first two of which I think are the direct fault of CCS). First, the staff at Tanzania CCS worked extremely hard to establish community. It was clearly a priority. One simple example is that we had all of our meals at the same time. For instance, at 6:50 pm or so, people would start lining up and at 7:00 the bell rang and dinner began. As part of this, we also had the benefit of eating our meals with the staff and their children. In this way, not only were they fostering the community of volunteers, but were also fostering organic connections with Tanzanians. In contrast, the leadership at CCS Trang did nothing to cultivate friendship among the volunteers. Using the meal example again, at 6:00 pm or so, the staff at Trang would put dinner on the kitchen table and we could eat whenever we wanted. So people quickly siloed into their own groups and there was very little interaction. Moreover, we did not eat meals with the staff, so that we did not even get the benefit of that experience. We learned that one aspect of Thai society is that it is very hierarchical, which probably explains the CCS Thailand rule that staff and volunteers had to eat separately. CCS Trang’s idea of cultural exchange was, for instance, setting up a Thai cooking class or taking us to see a Thai boxing match. While such activities are fun and even interesting, it is hard to feel part of the community when you are acting as little more than an attendee at a lecture. I think that this is, in part, explained by the fact that the leader at Trang (who, incidentally, seems to have either quit or been fired before the conclusion of our time there and disappeared one day without saying a word to anyone, including the rest of the staff), was a tour operator. While, in stark contrast, the leaders in Tanzania spent many years working with the Peace Corps.

Second, the location of the homebase was not ideal. It was far outside of downtown Trang and there was very limited public transportation. Therefore, it was very difficult to just stop by a bar or a restaurant to hang out with local Thais. In Tanzania, the homebase was close to local artists and a bar, where we could go and hang out with locals, in a very casual, comfortable manner. The consistent evening activity in Trang was the ride to Tesco, which is essentially a Wal-Mart. Thrilling.

Third, the bulk of our fellow volunteers were, shall, I say, limited. I realize that I cannot blame CCS for this. Although, as noted above, their efforts to cultivate community were non-existent. While it may be impolitic to write about our fellow volunteers on a public blog, I feel no constraint with regard to our Trang compatriots. The likelihood that they would look at our blog is small and, if they did, they might even benefit from the forthcoming constructive criticism. Despite my inclination to give you their names, the lawyer in me knows that’s unwise. So the following are my assessments:

The Love Birds. These two post-high school kids are quite the couple. He is of average height, very thin and I don’t believe that he has yet sprouted facial hair. Neither Ed nor I have seen him shave (we all share a bathroom). Despite occasional attempts at conversation with him, in the three weeks, that we have been here, I believe that he has not said more than 50 words to us. No exaggeration. I can’t figure out if he’s actually unfriendly are merely extraordinarily shy or socially awkward (this coming from a person, who brings social awkwardness to new heights). Ed and I are convinced that were we never to say hi or good morning or whatever, he would simply never speak to us. I tested that theory before we left and sure enough he would walk right by me without saying a word. Keep in mind, that we lived in relatively close quarters. I actually kind of like his girlfriend. She’s clearly smart, interesting and is much more personable. However, I think she’s so consumed with their first love (I’m assuming here) that it seems to hinder her sociability. Perhaps I’m going out on a limb here, but I think they are of the view that they are intense and complicated people, who we, as old and uncool 40 year olds, simply cannot comprehend.

The Sorority Girl. Without intending this to be a full broadside attack at women who join sororities, there is no better description for her. She’s taking a brief break from a small East Coast liberal arts college to do this program. That I applaud. However, she seems extraordinarily preoccupied with perfecting her tan and limiting her volunteer obligations, to the greatest extent possible. Indeed, her failure to take her volunteering seriously is almost admirable in its sheer audacity. One weekend she and a few other volunteers went up to Bangkok. After missing the first two flights back for questionably legitimate reasons, she missed the third flight because she was out partying. Indeed, her traveling companion was quite concerned because that night the sorority girl left her saying that she would be right back and never returned, which also resulted in her traveling companion missing the third flight. At times, I wish I felt unconstrained by responsibility and obligation.

The High School Girl. This young woman came to Thailand for two weeks of volunteering during one of her school breaks from her senior year at boarding school. She’s seems fairly smart and reasonably well traveled. However, she is what I will refer to as aggressively granola. She has this judgmental manner, thoroughly consistent with the vast amount of experience and wisdom she has gained in her 18 years on the planet. As an example, we attended a Thai Boxing demonstration, which was both fun and interesting. We all got into the ring and were taught some basic moves. Melissa asked her whether she was going to join the demonstration, to which she haughtily responded “I don’t do violence.”

Now, off to Northern Thailand.

Tsunami Tourism—Off the Beaten Path

After two relatively uninspiring weeks in Trang, we decided we needed a little adventure and Wendy found an organization, called NATR (North Andeman Tsunami Relief) that is dedicated to helping tsunami ravaged communities rebuild, in part through non impact tourism (started and run by a Cal grad—Go Bears!). We arranged the five hour car ride to a town called Kuraburi where we stayed in a motel-like place before setting out in the morning for the small fishing village called Ban Tale Nok where we met our Muslim homestay family and began our short, but enlightening and thoroughly enjoyable adventure. I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive about a homestay, particularly given the language barrier (no real progress on Thai, even if they do act ecstatically when I manage to speak the five words I know) and what I expected to be reasonably primitive facilities. I quickly realized that my apprehension was unfounded. What it lacked in creature comforts, was more than made up for with the warmth and generosity of the people and the incredibly rich experience. I also was pleased to learn that I can happily survive two days with a squat toilet and a bucket of cold water in which to shower. The former is really not so bad once you get the hang of it and you bring your own TP. The latter I actually found quite refreshing, particularly given the heat.

Our trip was organized by a woman named Kelly, who works for NATR and speaks fluent Thai. Kelly is a British ex pat who has been in Thailand for several years and was working in Bangkok in the publishing business when the tsunami hit. She immediately went to the effected area to help in any way she could and quickly became indispensable in the unenviable task of helping locals identify the remains of their loved ones since she could communicate to the foreign doctors, aid workers as well as the local Thais. This was truly a gruesome task as the bodies were quickly decomposing in the Thai heat and humidity and for the first weeks, she lacked even the most basic protective equipment. I consider myself a fairly charitable person, but as I heard her describe the work she did without even a hint of hesitation, I just don’t think I could have done what she did. She returned to Bangkok but promptly determined that she needed more fulfilling work (she had been working for a Bangkok celebrity magazine) and moved to Kuraburi and joined NATR to continue her tsunami aid work. She is a remarkable woman and we were very fortunate to have gotten to know her, and have her serve as our translator and cultural advisor.

Despite all of the detailed news reports we saw of the devastation wreaked by the tsunami in December 2004, seeing it first hand and hearing the personal stories is entirely another matter. Ban Tale Nok is a small Muslim village with a current population of 180 after they lost 47 people, including 16 children in the tsunami. Half of the village homes were literally swept into the sea along with the children who were at school practicing their New Year’s dance. What little is left in that area is a stark daily reminder of the destructive power of nature. We heard that before the Tsunami hit, the tide had receded dramatically. Indeed, the vision was so dramatic, that it drew people to the beach to see this unprecedented site. This curiosity, sadly, contributed to the death toll.

Not surprisingly, the homes that were destroyed were rebuilt on much higher ground, beyond the line the tsunami reached, and few villagers ever venture to the beach any more for anything other than business (mostly fishing, the predominant source of income and sustenance for most villagers). We learned that after the tsunami, millions of dollars flowed into the area and was spent somewhat recklessly and with very little regard to the actual needs of the community or the boundaries of local cultural and religious practices. One particularly amusing example is the big shiny bakery that Coca Cola built in the middle of the village, without considering the fact that Thais neither bake nor eat baked goods. The other less amusing example is the tsunami warning tower that was built by some well meaning but misguided westerner. Despite its impressive stature, the signal and speaker systems are not loud enough to be heard by a large portion of the village, or even by those who might be on the beach. Needless to say, both structures sit vacant and unused--monuments to the genius of Western Civilization.

Since we were a group of nine (five adults and four kids), we were quite the spectacle in the village. We stayed with one family along with one of our fellow CCS volunteers (named Maia), and the Levines stayed in another. As has been our experience with most Thais, they love to eat almost as much as they love to feed you. Each meal consists of six or seven dishes, which they seem to throw together effortlessly. Just one dish would take me an hour to prepare, and that is with the help of modern appliances and pre-chopped vegetables. We mostly ate our meals on the floor, as they normally do, which was enjoyable if a bit hard on the knees. The family was remarkably gracious and eager to share their culture and learn about ours. Maya taught the father a card game, which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy. Kelly, when she walked in and saw the card playing, was a bit concerned that we might have caused an international incident, as many Muslims consider card playing a sin. However, the father reassured us that it’s only a sin when playing for money. After dinner, we all got out our photo albums and learned about each others’ families. I can only imagine what they thought of our lives, and I am sure the pictures only added to the mystery.

One of my favorite parts of the weekend was the afternoon aerobics session. Apparently, the King (who is much revered and beloved in Thailand) is encouraging physical exercise and the village women have decided to organize daily aerobics classes in their community center. I was somehow appointed guest instructor even though I have not been to an aerobics class since 1992 (right around the time the John Travolta and Jamie Lee Curtis movie came out). I did my best with the few steps I happened to recall, pathetically appealing to Wendy for step suggestions when I quickly exhausted my limited knowledge. The class got quite a turnout—from the middle age moms to the little girls, and we all managed to have a blast and work up a sweat. Of course, sweating is not much of a challenge in this weather.

Traveling is fun and exciting, but being tourists can be exhausting after a while. The two days in Ban Tale Nok went very quickly and we were all thrilled to have had the opportunity, albeit brief, to get to know the people, the village and learn about their lives in a reasonably authentic way.

English With Juvies

After an incredibly disappointing week with no volunteer placement and wasted time going from meeting to meeting while frustrated, if exceedingly kind, Thais tried to figure out how to put four reasonably well educated American adult volunteers to any use, Adam and I were finally assigned a placement on Sunday evening when as we returned from a relaxing island weekend. Our task-- to teach English to 14-18 year old boys in a juvenile detention facility. While it may sound intimidating, Adam and I were incredibly pleased to have a placement and intrigued by the different challenges we would be facing. My guess was less snot, dirt, cuddling and songs, more attitude, edge and apathy. We spent Sunday evening racking our brains for activities that might engage teenage criminals, a task that is perhaps even further out of my range of experience than teaching 50 preschool students. In general 16 year old boys are as much a mystery to me now as they were when I was a 16 year old girl. At least I have had kids in preschool and so far, and with continued good fortune, I have and will continue to avoid first hand parental experience in juvenile prisons.

Adam quickly zeroed in on the need to appeal to male adolescents’ attraction to competition and we have been devising games, with candy as rewards for the successful teams. Fortunately, the effects of the sugar high is someone else’s problem. We have taught them greetings, numbers, calendar words, fruits and vegetables, always in the context of some team competition. I came up with the idea of playing music from our ipods and have a competition to see how many words each team could identify. Choosing songs appropriate to this activity was a tall order. The songs had to appeal to 16 year old boys (my ipod was useless, but thankfully, we had Maya’s), be devoid of swear words and be clearly enunciated. Good luck. We settled on “Celebration” (they all got “Yahoo”) and “Respect” and “Cha Cha Slide.” It didn’t take long before I had all of the boys up and dancing to the simple and clearly communicated cues of the Cha Cha Slide (two hops this time..slide to the left…) These Thai juvies had no idea that we were unwittingly preparing them for the American bar mitzvah circuit. Fortunately for Maya and Emma, their placement is several kilometers away because they would have been mortified beyond belief. No worries, even though Adam was subtly averting his eyes and pretending to no avail not to know me, the students seemed to have a great time, as did I.

I have worked with adult prisoners and I was prepared for a somewhat similar experience. This is not at all what we got. If I had not been told that there kids were delinquents, or had failed to notice that we were surrounded by locked gates and barbed wire, I would have never known. These kids are polite, well-behaved, eager to learn and an absolute pleasure to teach. Most of them are covered in tattoos at least one of which is a swastika, but they just don’t seem remotely menacing. In the week we have been there, we witnessed one brief, if aggressive, fight. However, instead of the other boys joining in, they helped break it up and restore calm. Hard to imagine a similar scenario at juvenile hall in Los Angeles. But, again, I have never been, so what do I know.

I have noticed many things about these boys that distinguish them from their American counterparts. First, they appear extremely respectful to their minders, as well as each other. Perhaps it is the Thai custom that requires people to greet each other by bowing slightly with hand in prayer pose that sets the tone of mutual respect, but it seems genuine to me. The competitions with the language games are genuinely good spirited and they all help each other along—even if they have something to lose. Their meals together are another interesting sight. Before anyone sits down, they work together to carefully and neatly set a table that would put most American families’ dinner tables to shame. They then do a brief ritual which appears to be some combination of prayer and military chanting, and then eat quietly and clean up as just as efficiently. Adam and I were particularly amused that we were placed between the healthy kids and the two who were “quarantined” because they had a contagious disease. If we correctly interpreted the translation, they have chicken pox, so no real risk, but humorous nonetheless.

I also love observing how the boys touch each other. They hold hands, caress each others’ arms and faces and seem to really take care of each other. There is absolutely nothing sexual in these actions—if it was I am certain they would do it in a more clandestine fashion given the social climate here. It just seems to be genuine affection between friends without the burden of societal shame they would suffer in our culture for expressing it so openly and physically.

We finish teaching at 11:30, and then stay, have lunch with the boys, have a break for an hour and then teach the staff conversational English. As with most Thais, the staff members know much more English than they are willing to share because they are confounded by the pronunciation and embarrassed to make a mistake and sound silly. Of course, they could not possibly sound sillier than I do in Thai, as evidence by the fact that they break into uncontrollable giggles whenever I try to pronounce a word. Needless to say the “tonal” thing with the Thai language is completely lost on me. I consider myself a fairly musical person, but my brain just can’t seem to synthesize the fact that one word can have five different meanings depending on the tone. Adam is even more useless than me in this department, so at least I look good by comparison,

Overall, Adam and I are thoroughly enjoying the placement. We love the kids and they seem to genuinely appreciate the lessons as they ask each day if we are coming back. I love having a completely different experience than I did in Tanzania. Adam and my divergent pedagogical strengths seems to complement each other and we are thrilled to have the opportunity to work together, particularly because we are back to sharing a small room and bunkbeds with our children and appreciate the time together. We have to rack our brains each evening for activities that will keep them engaged for two hours, but so far, the time has passed relatively quickly with the kids remaining focused. We are not changing the world, but we are happy to participate in what seems like a mutually beneficial relationship.

Friends, Frustration, Folding Chairs and 44th Birthdays

I have not posted anything for a little while. Simply put, I have not been terribly inspired. After our experience in Tanzania, perhaps it was hard to avoid a bit of a let down. Certainly, Bangkok was fun and interesting, but being a tourist in a huge, relatively modern, and very frenetic metropolis was not wildly inspiring. That said, we were all looking forward to the next phase of our volunteering. With the same organization through which we had volunteered in Tanzania, Cross Cultural Solutions, we were going to volunteer in Trang, a town on the southwest coast of Thailand. Even more than the volunteering, we were looking forward to seeing our friends, Ed and Wendy Levine, and their kids Jessica and Corey. We and the Levines had been discussing doing some serious travel for quite some time now and they decided to join us for our 4 weeks in Thailand. Melissa and I were both looking forward to hanging out with our old friends from Connecticut. As great as it has been meeting wonderful and interesting people along the way, we were both hungry for the warmth and easy comradery that comes from old friends. Ed and Wendy are both doctors. So, as an aside, I have been able to indulge all of my hypochondriacal concerns. After two months, without an outlet for that particular bundle of neuroses (Melissa has no patience), it has been quite a relief to unload on Ed and Wendy. So we arrived in Trang on March 2, the Levine family arrived the next day and the reunion was terrific, as anticipated.

Starting that Saturday (March 3), we had orientation and learned a bit of Thai. We all have found Thai to be largely indecipherable. Not only is the language in a different alphabet, but it’s tonal, meaning that the same word can have multiple meanings depending on the tone. To the untrained ear, these tonal distinctions seem nebulous, at best. Melissa has for years, unfairly, claimed that I’m tone deaf. However, in this instance, I’m more than willing to rely on my alleged tone deafness as a defense to my inability to speak more than two words of Thai. On a positive note, as a male, essentially every Thai sentence needs to end with the word “krap.” Therefore, I finally have the justification that I have been long been seeking to end every sentence with “crap.”

Tuesday rolls around and we’re all scheduled to start our next phase of volunteering. We were all really looking forward to beginning and have seen these volunteer portions of our travels as the anchors for the trip. All I can say is that the first week was very frustrating. All eight of us (with the Levines) were put at the local Nursing College. The kids are volunteering at the day care center and are happy there. However, as wonderful as our kids are, it’s not clear that they’re absolutely necessary as the ratio of the child care providers to children is absurdly high and the facility would give Maya and Emma’s pre schools a run for their money. This is no Kigongoni pre-school. However, since the kids are reasonably happy, we're going to let it go. On the other hand, for the four adults, there was simply nothing for us to do. There was some thought that Melissa and I would be teaching English to Thai nursing students (a somewhat appealing thought to me, for a myriad of reasons (ok, maybe only one reason)) and Ed and Wendy we’re going to be doing something that would employ their medical backgrounds. However, the nurses all seem to be on vacation or about ready to graduate so there was simply nothing for any of us to do. This is all the more frustrating in that we paid a significant amount of money to CCS (yes, we paid to volunteer) to make all of these arrangements. While, we expect to face challenges in volunteering, we did not expect to face the challenge and boredom of nothing to do. Basically, the four of us spent hours checking email. It was quite maddening. We were promised that everything would be in order next week. We’ll see. While this was frustrating enough, that same week our PC died and my watch stopped.

As a side note, Thailand is much more advanced than we anticipated. Certainly, we expected Bangkok to be somewhat advanced, but we thought that as we left Bangkok, we would see greater need. While undoubtedly, there is significant poverty and problems in Thailand, relative to Tanzania, Thailand is a veritable super power. However, you would think that there would be many valuable things that volunteers can do here if the right opportunities are found.

In the Trang program you work longer hours but have Fridays off. So we decided to plan a weekend excursion. Trang, is a great starting off point for the many beautiful islands off the west coast of Thailand. This time we decided to go to Koh Ngai (aka Koh Hai), a relatively undeveloped (other than the various resorts) island about a 40 minute car ride and a 45 minute boat ride from our home base. The boat ride to the island was interesting. We decided to opt for the less expensive long boat to the island (as opposed to the bigger (and quicker) motor boats). We got in a charmingly simple boat (there were no chairs) and started on what looked to be a placid jaunt through the Andaman Sea. We were wrong. We had not been advised that we were leaving at the time of the roughest seas. The swells bounced us all over the place and we got soaking wet. We enjoyed the ride, in this kind of so-long-as-we-don’t-die-this-will-have-been-lots-of-fun way. I kept considering whether we were in swimming distance from one coast or the other.

However, when we arrived, the beach was beautiful. Our rooms were a bit smelly and bit far away from the beach, but were fine. We then proceeded to sit down in folding chairs on the beach prior to dinner. My buddy, Ed, sat down and his chair immediately collapsed with his pinkies (yes, both of them) stuck in the folds. Initially, Melissa and I did not realize what was going on and then Ed, politely and calmly asked, if I could help him remove his crushed fingers from the folds. If it were me, I would have been screaming like a stuck pig and then would have passed out. Indeed, when I saw his right pinky, it was gruesome, looking as if it had been amputated. It was really quite traumatizing for me. But, of course, Ed received all of the attention as my emotional injuries were given short shrift next to his “real” injuries. To Ed’s extraordinary credit and given the joint medical attentions of him and his wife, he treated and dressed his pinkies and was prepared to continue with the weekend activities. Again, I would have called Medi-Jet and had myself evacuated to Cedars Sinai.

The rest of the weekend was really quite nice. Saturday was Wendy’s 44th birthday and we had a great day. We went on this wonderful, if touristy, boat excursion, where we went through this water cave. All of us tourists, dressed in blue life vests, were in the water in a congo line of sorts, as we went through the cave, which at times, was pitch black. Very exciting. The cave then opened up to this beautiful beach surrounded on all sides by severe cliffs of vegetation. It was a magical place. It seemed like the kind of place where the Lord of the Flies may have been set. We then went snorkeling and saw some beautiful reefs. Finally, we ended the day with a great dinner. I think Wendy would say that she had a pretty special 44th birthday. I will note, for the record, that the Levines timed this trip so that it included both Wendy’s birthday and their anniversary. Need, I say more.

We returned to our homebase and learned that Melissa and my placements are now all set. However, Ed and Wendy’s are still up in the air. Melissa and I have been moved to a detention center, where we’ll be teaching English to 16 to 18 year old boys, who have had some scrapes with the law. Now. . .having hours to check our email doesn’t seem so bad.

That’s it for now.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous

I had yet to experience the culture shock that I was expecting while in Africa—until I hit the Dubai airport at 1 AM. We stepped off the plane in Dubai expecting a typical middle of the night airport scene—most things closed with a few tired concessions open—and instead found an upscale, high tech shopping mall teeming with 1000s of people shopping and eating at what seemed like a fevered pitch. I have truly never seen anything like it and the juxtaposition of the abject poverty in Africa to the pinnacle of conspicuous consumption in less than 5 hours was quite astonishing. We walked wearily around as we waited the three hours for our connecting flight to Bangkok—a bit overwhelmed by it all especially given where we had come from. We bought nothing except a Newsweek magazine, some drinks and a muffin. I’m pretty sure we are not their target market.

Arriving in Bangkok was similarly surprising. I suppose I was naïve to expect Bangkok to have the flavor of a city in a developing country. Indeed, that was Adam’s recollection of the city from his visit nearly 20 years ago. In fact, it feels more like New York—but with nice, Thai people. It’s incredibly sophisticated, clean and easy to get around with fancy brand new malls and multi screen cineplexes everywhere we go. I am usually not a big fan of bustling cities, but I am thoroughly enjoying it here. I think I am welcoming the change of pace after being in a small village for so long. We went to a supermarket the first day and I spent 30 minutes just wandering around with my mouth open, stunned and overwhelmed by the vast variety. Adam said he had never seen me so indecisive. Our plush accommodations are another plus to our Bangkok visit. Our friend Kevin heard we were coming on this trip and very kindly set us up with a friend of his who has an apartment here. We were feeling very lucky to even have a place to stay, and then we walked in to this beautiful two story penthouse (on the 33rd floor) apartment with 5 or 6 bedrooms (I haven’t counted them all yet) and a rooftop pool. Quite a departure from the 8 x 8 room with bunk beds in which we have resided over the past month or so. It’s so big, Emma actually gets lonely at night because she is not used to sleeping in a room by her self (the rest of us insisted). The owner’s sister, Sally, has 4 kids right around Maya and Emma’s ages, and lives in the same building (with 3 full time nannies and two drivers) so the kids have been endlessly entertained. Sally (who is Thai despite her American sounding name) and her husband also took us out to dinner and showed us parts of Bangkok we wouldn’t have seen on our own. Getting to know them has been a nice treat—even if the whole experience is a bit far a field from the intended purpose of the trip.

In addition to just exploring the city, we have been doing many of the usual, can’t miss tourist things—visiting the palace, temples and museums, boat rides along the river, etc… The boat ride was a bit touristy, but interesting because you see that along the canals (ostensibly beach front property), people leading quite modest existences.

The temples are as astonishingly beautiful as everyone says. I particularly loved the Emerald Buddha (actually made of Jade) whose clothes are ceremoniously changed by the King each season to ensure that he is appropriately dressed (for the weather I guess—though the long gold cape he was wearing wouldn’t be my choice for 98 degree weather with 90% humidity). With the intense heat, there is only so much touring we can do each day without all of us melting, but we are all enjoying ourselves immensely. We have been eating well, as usual. We have had delicious Thai food everywhere, bad Chinese food in Chinatown, and surprisingly delicious Mexican food at a big Western Hotel that caters to German tourists. Odd, I know. Adam and the girls had all been hankering for Mexican food, so it was a nice change of pace.

We are also taking advantage of some of the modern conveniences we lacked in Africa (such as high speed internet) to get some business done—make travel plans for the rest of Southeast Asia, pay bills and a few other miscellaneous things that simply could not happen during the previous leg of our journey. We also engaged in some indulgences-albeit cheap ones. Adam and I had two hour Thai massages today for which we paid $20 total ($10 each!). This is not your typical relaxing Swedish massage with muzak Indian music, aromatherapy and incense. These women knock you around pretty well and even seem a little angry (of course, I may have done something offensive—who knows). Painful, but really enjoyable and you leave feeling oddly rejuvenated. We even managed to sneak in a sappy American movie (Music and Lyrics) in one of the brand new fancy cineplexes that make the Bridge in LA seem positively downscale. The most interesting part of the movie was when everyone stood during the Thai national anthem (or King’s Anthem) during what was essentially a public service announcement for the universally revered Royal family. Fortunately, Adam had read about this practice in guidebook, so we complied and did not cause any cultural offense. We leave tomorrow for Trang to meet up with our friends Ed, Wendy, Jessica and Corey (who have been traveling in Cambodia and Vietnam) to start our next round of volunteering. We are looking forward to the next adventure.