Where Everybody Knows Your Name... but they can't pronounce it.

Week one at site is over.  12 times I've ridden my bike to and from work and had people call out "SALAH!" the whole way.  I can't believe I've made it this far.  *pauses for applause*  So, before I get too behind in my blogging, let me cover the high points of day one...

A few weeks ago during my final review with Peace Corps (and when I was officially recommended to serve as a volunteer) they asked if I had any questions before they released into the wild.  Yes, actually, I did have a question.  One that seemed like it should have a very obvious answer, but one that was weighing heavily on my mind nonetheless: WHAT DO I DO WHEN I WAKE UP ON THE MORNING OF THE 22ND OF MARCH?!  This was to be my first day at site.  "Um.. go to work?" they said.  That was the obvious answer, I know.  But the underlying questions were much greater.   Do I go into the community yet?  How do I find my way around?  Where will I eat lunch?  Will I understand anything that is going on?  What do I work on?  The questions, to me at least, were endless.  They still are.  I have no idea what awaits me each morning when I wake up and I assume that this feeling will last for the next two years.  *Ahem* The next one year and 51 weeks. 

I had been forewarned that I was going to have to give a speech in Thai on the morning of the 22nd.  This is one of the first things my counterpart told me when we were reintroduced at the counterpart conference.  No pressure, right?  Nice to meet you, too.  If you know me, you know that I like to wing it.  And that's exactly what I did.  That morning I scrawled a few choice Thai words down in my notebook for reference (and just in case).  I believe it's always best to speak from the heart, even if you can't speak the language.  So, in front of all of the important village leaders, I did my best to introduce myself in a language I had only studied for two months.   Then, something beautiful happened. 

When I thought I was done, they put me in a chair in front of the crowd.  There was a floral arrangement on the table next to me and it was covered in strings.  (Below is a picture of it after the ceremony - picture it with strings all over each leaf.)

 
One by one, 53 members of the community took a string from the floral arrangement and approached me.  They swept the piece of string over my wrist both away from me (to brush away all bad luck and feelings) and toward me (to usher in good luck and happiness), said a blessing in Thai, then took my hand, said how glad they were I was here, and wish me much happiness and luck here in Phichai. 

This is one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me.  It is a rare experience to have one person, let alone 53, welcome you with open hearts to a new community and give you an individual blessing.  I took this as a good sign and so far it has proven to be just that.  This has been a rough journey for me, as you probably know from my various whining and homesick e-mails and skypes, but I feel like it is going to be a worthwhile journey, nonetheless.

Here I am in my bedroom that night with all my strings feeling very loved and welcomed.  Yep, that's my bed there behind me.  I sleep on some pillows on the floor.  But I like it.  So don't judge.

The rest of the week has gone fairly quickly.  My village has kept me very busy and when I expressed that this has been a particularly hard and sad week for me for a number of reasons especially since I'm kit tung baan, they drew me even closer, told me they loved me, are so glad I'm here, and bought me a pink t-shirt with a kitten on it that says "Please be happy."  So, I have been happy, because, well, what else am I gonna do?