Thailand Tales 4

Cool new experiences:

1. Cheap good food.  Unfashtandish.  We went out to eat at a lovely restaurant yesterday, with two other families.  Lovely, airy white building, air conditioning, pretty tablecloths, the works.

Here's Steven and a few new friends.


Well, the cat on the seat wasn't so fancy. But I am fascinated with foreign cats so that was fine.

 

Most of the meals were 40 or 50 baht which is less than two dollars.

I had the cashew chicken which was close-your-eyes-in-rapture delicious and was less than $3.

There's a Thai lady who does the cooking for the school.  Today she made a delectable dish with chicken, hot peppers, chopped green beans, hot peppers, and a green spinachy leaf.

Thai food is like Chinese except more so.


2. Shopping, and observations during such.  I didn't do a lot of research before I came, and somehow I was expecting the grinding poverty of Africa or Mexico or Yemen.  Wrong wrong.  

 I guess out in the remote areas people are a lot poorer, but here in the city they seem quite comfortable.  Cell phones but not the latest Droids; scooters but not necessarily cars; nice clothes but not the latest brand names; and public taxis called song-tows, where you climb in the back of a shiny yellow pickup and push the green button to stop when you get to your destination, and then pay about 30 cents.

Paul and I took a song-tow about a mile down the road to a big shopping center .  We got a dishpan and the cutest flip-flops ever, since as always in hot climates my feet have been swelling like crazy, and a Dairy Queen cone apiece just for fun.

See?

The traffic was crazy when we wanted to come back, three lanes each way, and all the song-tows looked full, so we decided to walk back, maybe a mile or two.

It was still 90-some degrees but a nice breeze was blowing up the highway so it wasn't bad.

In that mile-plus we saw lots of vehicles of every sort, including a zillion mopeds and a lot of nice cars, but very few pedestrians, and few if any bikes.  And no beggars.  No lost-looking children.  No men just sitting and looking sad and out of work.  No twisted bodies moving painfully with homemade crutches.  No young men who made me grip my purse tighter.

Lots of mysterious little lanes went vining off the main highway.  Almost all of them looked paved and clean and well-maintained.

We saw two guys repairing cars and one fixing motorcycles.

And a few little shops and cafes, and several schools, and lots of houses, and a few car dealerships.

I could grow to like a place where people are polite and respectful and clean and well-fed and hard-working and educated, without the extremes of materialism, obesity, and individualism in America.

Which is not to ignore the underside of Thai life that I've heard about, such as a thriving sex trade and young people getting abducted into human slavery.

3. Cooling off.

Another mom who is here for three weeks, Theresa Weaver, and I decided to take our kids swimming at a pool up the road.

So at the hottest part of the day we slathered on the sunscreen, pushed through the oppressive heat in the 10-minute walk to the pool, paid 50 baht apiece, and had a lovely time plunging into the water.

Somehow it cooled me off down to the core as I hadn't been cooled off since I arrived.  Then I tied on a leso and we walked back in our wet things, and I decided that has to be the best way to cope with this heat.

4. Learning the culture.

We sat in on a Thai culture class today.  To greet someone, you put your hands together, prayer-style.  Fingertips should be level with your nose if the other person is an elder, lower down for someone younger, above your nose only for royalty or the equivalent.  If you're a woman, you say, slowly, "swah-di-KAAAH," and smile and bow your head just a bit.

5.  Appreciating rain.  A thunderstorm blew in, the temperature dropped to 77, a breeze blew through our apartment, and the rain fell.  It felt wonderful.

Thailand Tales 3

Monday--time to get down to business.

The students have a "day of solitude" today--surely an introvert came up with this brilliant idea--to think through all the successes and disappointments of the trips they just took, and to gear up for three weeks of heavy studying.

So Paul and I sat down with Steven and Jenny and made up a schedule.  Which classes are we going to sit in on, when are we going to go swimming, when will I help Steven with his research paper, and so on.  I divvied out daily duties like mopping these lovely parquet floors and washing dishes, and a certain male teenager was heard to mutter under his breath something that sounded like, "Wait.  I guess I'm still in Oregon.  Jobs.  Dishes. . ." but maybe that was just my imagination.

Pretty soon we go out for lunch with Lee and Joyce, the campus pastor and his wife, who go around taking care of everyone.  For example, I mentioned needing a mirror, and within hours one showed up in our apartment, accompanied by a bouquet of orchids, thanks to Joyce.

We are learning about Thai culture.  They have some rules that overlap with things we learned in Yemen, such as don't point the bottom of your foot toward anyone as it's an insult.  But the absolute #1 rule in Thailand is Honor the King.  His picture is everywhere, including on money and postage stamps.  So you handle money reverently, and if a coin rolls off you don't ever step on it to stop it.  You don't lick a stamp with the king's picture; you wet it with a damp cloth.  This rule is so important that if you do something stupid like deface a picture of the king, you can expect to be tossed in prison for a good while, even if you're an American citizen.

I finally found our kitchen sink.

As I mentioned, there are two little kitchens here, but actually they're just little fridges and microwaves on two floors, along with dishes on a shelf, and a small table.  I finally decided they must wash dishes in the bathroom sinks.

Then I was snooping around and opened the back door on the first floor, and there was a little kitchen sink, complete with dishes on a towel.

I think the custom is to cook in a little lean-to kitchen, probably for the heat, and there's also some spiritual significance to having lots of floors and everything on a different level.  You step down a few inches for the bathroom, for instance.  It has to do with keeping the number of spirits per floor to a minimum, something oppressive like that.

In the little kitchen you can look out to the shrine or spirit house in the alley.


Here's the view from the end of the alley.

 
And here's the view from inside the kitchen, through the wire over the windows.  Someone puts a lot of effort into keeping this setup clean and fresh.

Somehow it reminds me of Emily's elaborate Little People setups, back when she was four.  There are people figures inside and outside that house, and I'd like to find out what they signify.
 


It is hot, like 90 ish, according to Accuweather, which feels like 109 degrees, also according to Accuweather.  HOWEVER, also according to Accuweather, it was in the high 90s and 100s almost every day in April and May.  So I am trying to feel grateful.

People seem to acclimate to the heat, from what I observe.  Last night we sat in the sweltering heat of the chapel while different teams gave reports of their trips they just took, and some of the girls sat there in chic little sweaters or shirts over their dresses.  LAYERS in this climate?!  It made me feel claustrophobic just to look at them, but they seemed to be ok.

 
So you can pray that I would acclimate soon as well despite my hypersensitivity to temperature of any sort.

Thailand Tales 2

Beautiful, quiet, and hot--those are my first impressions of Thailand.

So far we haven't ventured out much but hope to do a lot more when we're recovered from jet lag and once I get in my head which way is north, which I am told is the mark of a Midwesterner in a foreign land.  Bill Bryson said that, I think--that if you're in London and you see a couple on the corner of a crooked side street, holding a map and arguing about which way is north, you can bet they're from Minnesota.
 
Yesterday about 2pm I succumbed to that terrible jet-lag sleep that is like being hit on the head with a 2 by 4.  At 5:00 I managed to rouse for supper but people had this odd thing they kept doing--talking to me and asking questions--and I was in such a fog I could hardly answer, so I flopped back in bed even though I knew I would surely wake up at 10 pm and be wide awake all night.


Oh well, there's not much you can do when you're knocked out by a 2 x 4.


I woke up a few times but always went back to sleep, and slept until almost 5 a.m., which computes to nearly 15 hours.

Not sure I've done that since I was a newborn.

It was wonderful.

Did I tell you about the flights over?  We flew Korean Air.  Wow.

They served hot meals with real stainless steel tableware.  The flight attendants had the prettiest uniforms ever.  And they took very good care of us, and smiled for 11 hours.



IGo is a Bible school/ outreach training center in a gated community in the city of Chiang Mai, Thailand.  Students come here, mostly from the eastern U.S., for up to two years.

I'm still piecing this together, but I think this is how it works: each semester consists of three terms.  Each term consists of three weeks of  classes followed by about ten days out in the real world.  So all the students here now have just returned from an intense trip.  I know some of them were in India but I don't know about the others.

Paul will be teaching History of Missions for the second term of this semester, and all the students take three other classes besides.  Then they all go off on trips for over a week.

I think there are about 25 students.

Meanwhile there are all kinds of other ministries spidering off of this one and also others that have loose connections with IGo but aren't under the same official umbrella.  There's a ministry to former prostitutes, and church planters, and a few others.

Oh, and there's also a language center that's under the IGo umbrella, where locals can come and learn English.

The building is like a long, white, rectangular 4-layer cake.  If you take one slice off the east end, that's the apartment where we're staying.  The first floor is like a store front, with plate glass windows and lots of shelves, so we don't hang out there.

The second floor has a little kitchen, that's all, because half of the first floor has a high lofty ceiling that takes up half of the second floor.

the third floor has a big bedroom for Paul and me, a little study area, a bathroom, and a washer.

The fourth floor has another big bedroom for Jenny plus an open area that serves as Steven's bedroom plus a small kitchen area.  And a bathroom.

So we have lots of space to ourselves.  And I hope that by the time we leave I will have very toned leg muscles from going up and down all those steps.

Now picture a pretty wide slice of the cake next to ours.  That's the dining area on the bottom, chapel on the next floor up, classrooms above that, girls' dorm above that.

Another narrow slice follows, and that is the English language institute, with its own storefront entrance, and a cool coffee bar on the second floor.

The guys' dorm is in there somewhere, so I might have misplaced a slice or two.

The end slice of the building is a dreary-looking internet cafe that has no connection with IGo.  I guess that's a pun.

Most of the staff families are scattered around this--I'm not sure what to call it--it's pronounced something like "pontoon" and is like a culdesac/gated community except much bigger.

Crime is not a huge issue here so while you don't want to flaunt your laptop, it isn't like Kenya where you had to constantly be on guard.

There's no AC here but there are fans everywhere you turn, so we survive.

Oh--how could I forget the Smucker moment at the Seoul airport?

We landed after 11 1/2 hours in the air and headed through that vast clean airport for our next gate.  As we started through a wide hallway lined with shops, we noticed this odd parade going on.  There were probably 30 or 40 people, all in bright satiny red or royal blue robes with full gathered skirts.  Some held these things like red silk Quaker Oats boxes at the end of a broomstick, and some had spears.  Their hats were black cylinders with spiky feathers or porcupine quills sticking out the top.

These 30-some people were all spread out over a pretty large area, with as much as 10 or 15 feet in between them.  There was a vague drumming coming from somewhere, and they would take a few steps, slowly, then stand still for a while, then march on, all with absolutely expressionless faces.

Well.

Paul is a Smucker, which means he knows where he wants to be and he charges full speed ahead until he gets there, and doesn't notice little hindrances in his way.

Like people in wild satin costumes, parading solemnly through the airport.

Jenny was sure he was going to go marching right through the middle of that parade and not even notice.

Such horror was not to be borne, and she was frantic.

Between her efforts and mine we got Paul stopped before he made some major cultural faux pas.

Whew.

This was the closest picture I could find:

Thailand Tales

I was going to post all about Thailand so far but I keep nodding off.

So, in short--

We got here fine.

It is very hot.

We have fans but not A/c.

We are all very jet-lagged, falling into deep sleep with bizarre dreams at odd times.

I still have remnants of my cold, most notably my cough, and my ears are all stopped up, which makes it hard to visit with all these nice people here at IGo.

Steven loves the hot weather.  It feels like Kenya.

Thailand and a False Start

Did I mention that we plan to leave for Thailand on Thursday?  Paul and I, Steven and Jenny.  There's a Mennonite Bible school in Chiang Mai, actually more like a mission training center, and Paul will teach History of Missions for three weeks.

We return on June 24th.


You can all stop by and keep Emily and Ben company while we're gone.  Or have them over for popcorn and conversation in the evening.

And we would all appreciate your prayers, not least because for the third time this winter/spring I got a sore throat that expanded down into my lungs and triggered the whole asthma/cough/achy/fatigue/feels-like -pneumonia routine.  I think I'm just worn out; that's the problem.

One thing I had to get done before we leave was my column for the paper.  As always I didn't have anything to write about and debated about sending my editor an email: "I QUIT."  Three times I started writing about something and then stalled at 400 words.

Then in digging through some old papers I found some notes on when we got all these new little trees, and I remembered how it felt like such a battle of wills, with my family ganged up against me, and I also recalled that after one of my last trips I inspected these little trees and they all survived, so voila a story for which we hope for the best.

Here's one of the false starts:

I don’t normally remember phrases from my second grade reader when I’m trying to pressure wash the porch.

But you never know.

A winter’s worth of dirt, mold, and whatever the cats dragged in had turned our nice wraparound porch to a grimy, dingy, unwelcoming sight.

My son Ben hauled the pressure washer over from the carport and attached the hose.  I plugged it in and pushed the little reset button.

A quiet hum came from the motor.

I pressed the nozzle.

It was supposed to burst into a shivering roar, and send a jet of water out the end that would peel the grime off the vinyl siding.

It didn’t.

There was only that quiet hum deep in the guts of the yellow machine.

And the phrase from 2^nd grade popped into my mind.

"It started, but it would not go."

I wonder how long I puzzled over that sentence, back in my old-fashioned desk with the hole for the inkwell, in that little Amish school.

I can still see the picture.  Mrs. Picnic, I'll call her, a cheerful white-haired woman with wire granny glasses, had driven her new car out into the country for a picnic.

The car was red, I remember that, and she had parked by a big flowering bush.

She had enjoyed her picnic and then got back in her car to go home, and there the problem arose.

It started but it would not go.

I found this utterly confusing.  Wasn't starting the same thing as going?  

Cars were a mystery to me.  I got the occasional ride from a Mennonite uncle or a driver we hired, but I didn’t begin to understand the process involved in getting it down the road.

In my world of horses and buggies and bare feet, to start was the same thing as to go.

I pictured Mrs. Picnic’s red car starting—that is, leaping forward with a happy jerk—so how could it not be going?

Odd, that it never occurred to me to ask someone what was going on.  I suppose I assumed that everyone else, equally Amish, would be as ignorant as I was.

I was an obsessive child, and I must have spent hours puzzling over that story.  My world was quite small and my chances for amusement quite limited once my schoolwork was done.

I do know the story had a happy ending and Mrs.Picnic eventually got home.

 A few years after that we upgraded to Amish 2.0 and got a car, so by the time I was 16 I had learned the complicated routine of key, brakes, shift, and so on.  I knew what it was to start the car, always difficult in a Minnesota winter, and I knew what it was to go, also risky in Minnesota winters.

There is starting, and then there is going, and to start is not always the same as to go.

In marriage, a new diet, reading a parenting book, writing a novel, and finally getting the flower beds to grow without me hovering and replanting.

[And here I felt I was overreaching for a Great Life Lesson from a memory out of second grade, so I quit.  I guess the column started, but it would not go.]

P.S. If you're wondering why little Amish students were reading about cars, it's because in those days we used castoff textbooks from the public schools.

Quote of the Day:
"Ben says if Dad ever becomes President, it'll be to have less stress in his life."
--Jenny

ISC update 7

The International Student Convention ended this morning with a long awards ceremony.  I got up at 5:30 to watch the live feed, which was fully worth it when Steven {my son} walked across the stage for his medal when he placed second in male trio, along with Isaiah and Cody, and fifth in Bible Bowl [with Spencer and Isaiah, I think] out of 63 teams [!!]

I'll try to remember who else placed, and where, although this might not be entirely accurate.

Spencer--woodworking--4th
Shane--800 meter--5th
Austin--archery--top 6--not sure which
guys--basketball--4th

The small ensemble placed 7th out of 43 but didn't get to go up front for an award because only the top 5 or six get to do that.

The group flew out of Pittsburgh and is landing in Portland about now.  I was supposed to take the van and go get them, but that meant missing out on a concert Ben was in this evening.

David Krabill saved the day and consented to fetch the weary crew.

Thank you, David, that was very kind of you!

And I got to stay to the end of the concert.  A number of choirs sang one after the other, and then they sang all together.  Goose-bumpy beautiful.

Ben is in the farthest row, by the left leg of the A.

And speaking of goose bumps, we note how many in the audience were bundled up like it was the middle of winter.  For good reason.

I am trying to find some good in this weather and all I can think of is, when we get to Thailand next week and it's 104 degrees with a similar humidity, Maybe I'll think longingly of 48 degrees and a wild driving rain.

Maybe.

[Yeah. Thailand.  Since we never get to travel, you know.  Paul was asked to teach a 3-week course at a Bible school/mission training center, and he and I plan to go, along with Steven and Jenny.  Every so often Paul turns to me and says, "Do you realize I will have only 1 hour in the day scheduled?  One hour."  And I say, "Do you realize I haven't been assigned any responsibilities?  None.  And I won't have to cook."  And Paul grins and says, "Maybe we'll actually have a vacation," and I say, "I can see myself just sleeping for three weeks."]

[Except I've heard the fabric shopping is great, so I'll wake up long enough to do that.]

ISC Update 6

The guys played two basketball games today and lost both, so they ended up in 4th place.

One Bible Bowl team was called back for a tie-breaker, which means they're in the top 15.

Austin's picture, Spencer's chest, and Shanea's scrapbook are all finalists.

Shane placed 5th in the 800.

Tomorrow morning the closing ceremonies begin at 8:25 Eastern time.  I'll be up watching the live feed if anyone wants to come join me.

Also, Kayla and I are scheduled to drive to Portland to pick up the whole crew when they come in around 10 pm tomorrow.  However, I'm looking for someone to drive the van up for me.  Ben has a concert and I'd really like to be there for all of it.

ISC Update 5

Oops!  The live feed on Thursday is at 8:25 a.m and not pm as I had posted.  Which certainly means setting your alarm clock if you live in Oregon.

Steven missed qualifying for the 200 meter dash by .13 second.

ISC Update 4

The basketball team won two more games and will play two more tomorrow, which means they will end up somewhere in first to fourth place.

They had qualifying heats for the running events, and the top 8 get to run in the final event tomorrow.  Shane qualified for the 800.  Steven decided to run in the 200 and not the 400, and had the best time in his group, but there were 5 groups, so he doesn't know yet if he was in the top 8.

Paul's sister Barb is there for the day.  She brought her friend Jennifer, who has a daughter at the convention.  She was there for Shanea and Alicia's duet and will also be there for Steven, Isaiah, and Cody's trio.

Paul is getting a sunburn.

ISC update 3

Trenton sprained his ankle playing basketball on Saturday.  As I understand, it was just a fun game with some local college guys, but the sprain was bad enough that no one knew if he could play any "real" games, and the nurse at the first aid booth thought he should see a doctor.

However, by this morning he was able to play, and they won their first game 41-14.

Paul is happy with how the small ensemble and group Bible speaking events went.  They're up against 12 other teams in group Bible speaking, and 27 in basketball.

 The track and field events are on Tuesday, with "field" (long jump, shot put etc) in the morning and "track" in the afternoon.  We'll see if Steven does as well in the 400 meter dash as he did at regionals, where he didn't train ahead of time and loped casually along far ahead of all the others.

The male trio sings at 4 pm Tuesday.

Basketball and table tennis continue.