Happy Halloween

Rockin' some fake 'staches with my
 co-workers, Boy and Wallie.

Halloween.  My favorite holiday in the States.  And now my favorite holiday in Thailand.  Today was a good day. 

In anticipation of the holiday, I asked if I could hold an American-style Halloween event at the schools for the kids.  No.  But instead, my Balat told me, we were going to celebrate Halloween at a local wat (temple).  I wasn't sure what to think of this at first.  Events at the wats aren't always my favorite since they usually involve kneeling on the ground for long periods of time in bendy positions this American body doesn't like, being publicly humiliated in some way, being bored out of my mind, or sometimes, all of the above. 

After some unproductive googling, I couldn't find any real information on Thai Halloween celebrations, and didn't know what to expect.  But I was pleasantly surprised today.  Tambon Korrum did it up right: with parades of devils and angels, balloons, food, karaoke, muay thai (thai boxing), Keng Rua (strong boat) races and, most importantly, Wai Phra - or in other words - making an offering to Buddha.

My co-worker Ant and me placing gold flakes on the statues.



A parade with offering dishes
accepting cash and food.

My counterpart, Tim making her offering,
and trying to see who is under the mask.  haha!

Focus with her offering for the monks. 
She's pretty much my favorite person in Thailand. 
Seriously.  I love this kid.

The monks collecting offerings.

Angels

Devils

Offering-accepting axe murderers

And boat races

Happy Halloween everyone!  Eat something yummy today and cherish it.  Because you never know when you'll move 10,000 miles away from everything you know and love and will no longer be able to eat your favorite foods. 

Love, Sarah.

When a word paints a thousand pictures

Recently, another volunteer shared with me the following advice she received on speaking Thai: "Speaking Thai can feel a lot like singing.  So if you're not singing, you're probably not speaking Thai."

It doesn't always sound like music to my ears, that's for sure. But what she was alluding to are the tones associated with each word in the Thai language.  Tones that are extremely important when speaking.  Tones that rise, fall, are high, low, or flat.  Tones, when executed incorrectly, can and will completely change the meaning of a word.  Completely. 

So, if you thought that would be tough, enter the sounds between sounds.  What I mean by this are words like dtambon. Dtambon is the word for village.  The DT sound falls somewhere, you guessed it, between a D and a T.  I haven't quite found out where just yet, but I'm working on it.  Same for G and K.  As well as B and P.  The word for fish is bplaa.  If you pronounce it with a hard B sound, no one will understand you.  If you pronounce it with a hard P sound, guess what?  No. One. Will. Understand. You.  You get my point. 

And that's what today's blog is about:  Misunderstandings and mispronunciations.  (Things are about to get slightly vulgar.  You've officially been warned.)

Lesson One:  Kuai vs. Gluai 

 

Gluai: pronounced with a sound between G and K and a rising tone.  Gluai means "Banana." 

 

Kuai: pronounced using a harder K sound and a flat tone.  Kuai is the vulgar word for "Penis."

 

Yep, you read that right.  Now, my village has a school called Banana Canal School or - in Thai - Rong Rien Klong Gluai.  It pains me to think just how many times I've pointed at one of my students and asked "You're from Penis Canal School, right?"  Not to mention that I'm terrified to tell anyone that I like to eat bananas.   

 

 

Lesson 2: Naam dtok vs. Naam dtot

 

Naam dtok:  Pronounced with a soft K at the end and a low tone.  Naam dtok means "Waterfall."

Naam dtot:  Pronounced with a soft T at the end and a low tone. Naam dtot translates to "Water Fart."

Villager:  "Salah!  Would you like to go see the waterfall this weekend?"

Sarah: "Oh yes!  I love water farts!"

No one has yet to take me to the waterfall. 

 

Lesson 3: Key vs. Key

Key: Pronounced with a hard K and a low tone.  Key means "to Ride."

Key: Pronounced with a hard K and a rising tone.  Key means "to Shit." 

How many times have I shit my bike all over the village?  How many times have I shit all over my bike?  I don't know.  But I bet my co-workers could tell you.  Between this and the water farts, it's no wonder everyone always thinks I have diarrhea. 

 

 

 

Books. Check 'em Out.

Yesterday I was feeling sorry for myself.  I'm lonely beyond any lonliness I've ever felt before.  I'm tired.  I'm hot.  I'm feeling useless.  My brain is fried from attempting to live in another language and culture.  I feel like my life is on hold and everyone else is moving forward.  And there is a good chance I'm coming down with some weird illness.  Again.

So if you talked to me yesterday, I apologize.  Because no one should be subject to such bitter depression, anger, and pleas of "WHY ME???." 

I let myself mope ALL DAY to anyone that would listen, then left work early to buy a salad at the market about 3k away (surprise, the Salad Lady wasn't there, only upsetting me even more).  On the way home, I decided to stop at a school and give away some books that Peace Corps mailed to all volunteers from an organization called Books for Thailand. 

To make a long story short, this visit resulted in a photo of me "giving" the books to the pricipal and scheduling a reading session the following morning for the kids.  I promised to read aloud in English if they, in turn, would read aloud to me in Thai.  Suddenly, my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day made me remember why I decided to leave my home to help others: to improve literacy rates, encourage reading, and impact the quality of education in developing nations.

And today, that's what I did.  I started to achieve the goal I set out to do, and hopefully, planted the seeds of reading in 63 Thai children's minds.  I read to the kids, the kids read to me, then to each other, and then we played some games.  All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good morning. 

One of my more eager students reading to the class. This guy
in the front loved the book so much he kept standing up to see
the pages. The other students were yelling at him to sit down.

The boys actually chose this book themselves.  It had English,
and Thai so they begged me to read it to them in English.
Proving once and for all that pink and princesses are a
result of nurture not nature.   :)
 

One of the students reading to the class.  It's a huge deal to get
students to participate like this.  So proud of her! 


 

If I had a million dollars

Today started and ended with dead or almost dead rats.  We've been having a bit of a rat problem at work, and I'm guessing poison was put out because the office smelled to high heaven when I walked in this morning and there were dead rats here and there.  So naturally, as one of my co-workers was flipping dead rat bodies in the dustpan like they were pancakes, I was more than relieved to be invited to accompany a co-worker to her new job and office.

In Thailand, from what I can gather from my and other PCV's experiences, it's common practice to accompany a government worker to their new job in their new village, even if it happens to be on the other side of the country.  Luckily, my co-worker, Nina, was only moving to the neighboring province. 

We all piled into pickup trucks and drove about an hour and a half to Nina's new village.  Her new office is much smaller and only had about 10 people to our 20.  We were served coffee and snacks while the mayor of her village gave his remarks.  Then everyone introduced themselves.  We all went to lunch - old office and new - and sat at different tables.  Then my co-worker paid for everyone's lunch, which was expensive.  I thought we would go back to the office after lunch, but instead, all of the women went back to my co-workers new apartment, sat on the bed and gossiped for a few hours. 

This might seem like an uneventful day to the naked eye, but in reality, I feel like I was allowed into a secret club.  When we left her apartment I felt very sad.  Nina was visibly upset, which is a very rare sight in Thailand, and my other co-workers were sad, too.  It made me wonder why she switched jobs.  I thought it had something to do with her recent marriage, but when I asked where her husband was living, they said he was still in our village. 

I've long since given up on completely understanding what's going on around me.  Even when and if I become fluent in the language, I have no doubt there will continue to be many cultural situations that will leave me scratching my head in wonder.  Like, for instance, why Thai people can sing karaoke for 24 hours straight and not get tired of it.  I will never understand it so I've stopped questioning it and started bringing ear plugs with me wherever I go.

But today was different.  Today, I truly felt part of the group dynamic. Today I felt like I got to be a part of something that few foreigners get to experience.  I'm thankful for that.  Even if it made me a little sad, it's good to know I'm starting to attach... a feeling which I know will come and go. 

When we arrived back at the office, it was business as normal. My balat was reading the newspaper and greeted me with a giant grin and a "Salah, Salah, Salah!  GOOD AFTER NOON" in English. There was a dying rat under his desk, which I pointed out, and as I anticipated, it caused a ruckus. 

But all of it started me thinking about what will happen when I leave.  I know it will be sad.  And I wonder if they will take me to the airport, or at least to Bangkok.  Or if they will just put me on a bus and wave as I drive away.  If I had a million dollars, I would fly everyone from my office here to America so they could accompany me to my new job, whatever it will be.  We'd have a gathering, drink Starbucks, and the leaders of each group would say their peace.  I'd buy everyone lunch of cheeseburgers and pizza and then put them on a plane back to Thailand. 





 

The Asian Food Pyramid

Yesterday, I decided I was bored with my current art project for the "healthy living" lessons.  After some brainstorming, I found theAsian Food Pyramid and set about incorporating it into my lesson plans.  I definitely got a kick out of the Asian idiosyncrasies, which include rice and noodles in the grains section, as well as bok choy in the vegetable section.  Check out the link if you have time.  Too cute.   

I had the kids break into groups according to school, draw the pyramid on a large piece of poster board, copy the Thai and English words, then take it back to their school and hang it in the cafeteria so it can be shared with all the students.  It was my attempt at sustainability as well as piquing interest among my kids and the other kids at their schools - or at the very least getting it on their radar.  Happily, they seemed to take it seriously and did a really good job with the project.  Let's just hope they actually hang it up at their schools.  Here are a couple of photos:

The little guy in the front with his pants pulled up to his chin is
one of my fave students.  He is just TOO CUTE!!

In other news, one of those spiders the size of my hand ran through the office today.  I stood on my chair holding up my backpack while everyone else either A) didn't care or B) talked about catching it and frying it up to eat.  I REALLY hope they were joking.  I should have told them it wasn't on the food pyramid and that I didn't recommend eating it.  :(

Confessions of Hong Thong victim

There are a lot of ridiculously funny and uncomfortable things that happen to me here.  Most of them involve a bathroom, insect, or language-based misunderstanding, but sometimes there are those gloriously awkward situational gems that just need to be blogged about.  Here's mine from this week:

Earlier this week, my village took the dreaded karaoke bus to the beach.  I've written about this joyous form of transportation before, so I'll spare you the details, not to mention there is no real way to describe the surreal event that is the karaoke bus.  But here is a picture of one of the buses to give you an idea of just how "magical" it is. 

I wasn't lucky enough to be on Santa Bus,
but don't fret! They all have some strange airbrushed art.

This time we left at 9 p.m. for an overnight journey to Koh Samet, an island in the Gulf of Thailand.  Twelve hours of Thai karaoke and two busted ear drums later, we made it to the beach, where we boarded a private boat for our 35 minute journey to the island which was, you guessed it, equipped with a KARAOKE machine!  Yay!!

If you've never been to Thailand, you've probably never had everyone point and yell "FARANG" at you, or refer to you as "the Farang" when you are sitting right across the table from them.  Side note: It also means "guava" so I like to make a funnies with my co-workers when I'm eating guava.  "Farang gin farang," I say.  This means "farang eats farang."  I think it's funny.  And so do they.

Mostly, I hate the word - and sometimes it literally makes my skin crawl when I hear it - but there are rare times when I find it funny: like when I'm the token farang with a group of Thais and I get to point at other farangs and yell "FARANG" and everyone just dies laughing. 

So this is what I spent most of the day at the beach doing.  Hanging with my Thai girlfriends talking about the sunbathing farangs.  And before I knew it, the day was over and we headed back to the boat. 

By this time, most of the men had polished off a few bottles of Hong Thong whiskey and were already enjoying the on-ship karaoke machine.  One of those men is someone I always see and usually talk to at community events.  He's about my age and I've noticed he watches out for me, ie: he protects me from the drunk people and the overzealous folks who might happen to get a little too excited about the resident farang.  And I'm very thankful for that.  He has always been nothing but kind and proper and still remains that way. 

However, on this particular day, he may have had a wee bit too much whiskey. 

When I got on the boat, he busy singing karaoke, but motioned for me to sit down in the front row of seats.  So, stupidly, I went ahead and sat down.  And when I did, he began to serenade me with a song about how I am 31 years old but still very beautiful and then professed his love for me.  In front of the entire boat.  Everyone I work with and many of the important community leaders were watching.  I didn't really know what to do, so I just sat there, smiled, and said thank you. 

And then he presented me with an Angry Birds flashlight wand thing.  Normally, I would have preferred flowers, but the flashlight wand was actually pretty cool. 

Coming Up for Air

A couple of years ago when I was rafting the Nile River, the guide, Roberto, instructed us on how to survive if we happened to be chucked into the rapids. 

"Tuck yourself into the fetal position and count to 10," Roberto said. "You'll rise to the surface and you can catch a breath of air.  If you try to fight the current, it will continue to pull you under and you'll drown." 

I was able to apply his little lesson later that day when our boat flipped in a class 5 rapid which was, if I remember correctly, about the size of Niagra Falls.  After churning under the water for what seemed like days, I finally stopped fighting the current and, not surprisingly, popped above the surface for a quick intake of air. 

I started thinking about this about a month ago, when I ran into a situation with my village that might have caused someone else to finally give up and go home. It was hurtful and it was shocking and I won't go into it, but it was the point when I finally stopped fighting and finally came up for air. 

And damn did it feel good to breathe again.

Up until then, I had been, in some way or another, fighting the current of Thailand.  I had been resistant to - and even afraid of - the culture, the language, attempts at friendships, and general integration since coming to Thailand in January.  There are a lot of things about coming here that have made me angry: missing friends and family, a failed relationship, the guilt of leaving people behind (specifically my dog - yes, I consider him a person, my favorite person actually), not being able to eat cheese, not being understood, being told what to do: when to shower, eat, and speak, and essentially not being treated like the independent 30-year-old woman I am who is quite used to traipsing across the globe alone or with very little supervision.  And true to my nature, I've gone down throwing as many punches as I've been able. 

I was drowning.  And it was exhausting. 

Along with opening my lungs, I re-opened my heart.  My friendships are better, my language is improving, and I'm actually starting to make an impact.  Little by little, I have stopped fighting and have started letting go.  Every time I do, it gets a little easier to be here.  And it makes knowing that I'll be here another 20 months feel a little less like drowning.  

So, Thailand, if you see me pause and tuck myself into the fetal position, don't be alarmed.  I'm just trying to catch my breath.