I cant help but feel that every decision I have made lately is part of an unconscious effort to rid myself of my attachments to material things.
I paid my fee to Mahidol in order to secure my student status at the university. Officially I will be taking the next two semesters off. Who knows what I will do in the meantime, and if I will ever return, I certainly am not making any promises. I know that I am really enjoying school, but if life takes me in a nother direction than so be it.
Although I made my decision a while ago, I have been doubting it these last few days. While walking to school this morning I tried to pinpoint these doubts, to see if they were valid. Turns out I was worried that I wouldnt get the house I am living in now back once I come back here. What??!! That is a reason? I dont think so. To be so attached to something like a house is a bit obscure, yet I find myself making these attachments left and right. I also find myself breaking free of these attachments, hopefully as rapidly as I make them, so maybe it all balances out.
There will always be another house, another classroom, another uniform, etc…
It was interesting, my last health class was about mental health. The lecturer tried his best to outline the basic principles of Happiness. He mentioned something that I have always thought is true: We spend all of our time doing things we dont want to do, we crowd our lives with tasks that drain us and make us unhappy. Then we complain about not having time to do things that do make us happy, we never make the time to do these things. Its strange that we have dug ourselves into this kind of lifestyle.
Its really easy to become comfortable surrounded by material things. To feed that insatiable desire for money, power, etc… Whats difficult is to dig down under all that Stuff and find out what makes us happy. If you always want more then whats the point of holding on to anything? If you dont feel satisfied with what you have than how can more of that make you more satisfied?
I like Hegel’s theory of Dialectics: Everything in the universe happens with a thesis (the original situation), then an anti-thesis(the proposed solution), then a synthesis (the combination of the two)….the synthesis then turns into the thesis, and the whole process continues in a circle. If you look at anything in life it follows this general pattern.
So why fight this pattern? If something is not working, try the antithesis, and guaranteed you will end up with some sort of synthesis….so on and so on…
I was on the bus on my way to Baan dada the other day, the sun was going down and the moon and venus were bright. The road was winding up and down and around mountains, and I kept having to strain my neck to catch sight of the moon. Every time I saw it and venus I was kind of overwhelmed with the feeling that I was in space. I dont mean me personally, but the Earth. For some reason at that time more than other times in my life I could feel the reality of space, and Earth’s position in the universe. I realized that I am still trying to get over the idea that the Earth is not flat. Its something I have known my whole life, but I am still trying to convince myself that its true. I mean I have never seen the Earth from afar, and the earth that I travel on seems flat as I travel. Its such a simple concept…but not really because we only know it through experience. Looking at the moon I guess I experienced something to convince me. It also made me feel tiny and Huge all at once. Tiny because as more stars appeared I could feel the distance and the vastness surrounding Earth. Huge because I felt like I was an extension of Earth.
I just wish I could feel the earth spinning. Now that would be a trip.
On Thursday I was late for the bus to Baan Dada. I ran down the bus terminal, my uniform sliding all over the place so that when I finally made it on the bus my skirt was backwards and my shirt was all untucked. I made it though, which was sweat. And sweaty.
Dada picked me up from town. He told me that he was taking sixteen kids to Kanchanaburi the next day (Friday) to do a dance performance. I asked who was going with him, and he said “D…and You.”
Damn. I was looking forward to spending some quality jungle time before my final exams.
So Friday morning we packed the truck up, and all the kids got in the back. True to Baan Dada style we weren’t actually driving away until about 4 hours later, once we had found and lost and found the car key several times.
Its about a 3 hour drive from Sangklaburi to Kanchanaburi. D, Dada and I, along with four kids sat in the truck, and the remaining 12 kids sat in the back. Dada had to keep rolling down his window and yelling back to the kids to move inwards so they didnt fall out the back when they fell asleep. There are three check points along the road. These check points are set up to catch people without thai papers trying to leave the Sangklaburi area. Because the area has so many refugees from Burma, the Thai government has set up these to stop people getting to Kanchanaburi, Bangkok, or anywhere else in Thailand. We were lucky that we reached the major checkpoint right after lunch, and the guards seemed to be to lazy to come out and check us. Dada was so relieved when we made it through that he promptly pulled over at a seven-11 and bought all the kids celebratory icecream.
The kids performed at a guest house called the Jolly Frog. The owner, Christa, was nice enough to put us all up in three rooms, as well as feed the kids after their performance. One guy donated 10,000 Baht! The kids were so funny, at first no one wanted to go around and collect money after the performance. D and I sucked it up and went, but as soon as the kids saw how much money people were putting in the buckets they took over and wandered around the restaurant with them. Some of the money earned was split evenly between the kids, and the rest will go to pay the school fees (including uniforms, tuition, school supplies..etc..)
Dada had told the kids that after the performance we would be going to Erawan waterfalls. Instead he surprised them with a trip to Bangkok. We stayed at my house and went to Dusit Zoo and Suan Siam Waterpark. It was so much fun, and absolutely Hilarious to see the kids gallavanting around bangkok. It was nice to have them all at my house as well. They were like a tornado, but unlike most kids these ones clean up after them selves. Every evening the house would look like someone had shaken it upside down, and every morning it looked cleaner than when I moved in. One of the nights the kids started trying on shoes that were on a shoe rack. Most of these were high-heels, and even the boys had them on, prancing around and laughing their heads off. This morning before they left one of the girls arranged the shoe rack. Its funny because before the shoes were not arranged properly, just thrown on the rack, now they are lined up perfectly. You would expect a house to be a disaster after 16 kids are set loose in it, but these kids left my house even more organized.
I woke up this morning with a face full of snot, and my glands all swollen. I have had a fever on and off all day, and I feel like crap. It doesnt feel like the regular flu, and I am pretty sure its the H1N1 virus. All I can do is wait it out though, because I cant miss any more classes. I am pretty sure I caught it yesterday while at Suan Siam Water Park. Its a giant amusement park, with a “lagoon” area for swimming and waterslides, as well as roller coasters and rides. I went on my first roller coaster ever, along with D, Dada and about 7 kids. It was terrifying. At some points I thought I was actually going to fall out of the thing and die. Not exactly my idea of fun, but I am glad I went. The waterpark was really fun, it had this giant water slide. The kids were so funny going down it, all cautious at first then going crazy after a while.
While traveling around Bangkok, on buses and in taxis with the kids D and I had to laugh at all the weird looks we were given. On the bus one woman looked at us as though we were stealing the children from somewhere, and she kept glancing at the kids and back at us. Another woman stared with gaping eyes at my while I held Notobas head up while she slept on the way home. I am not sure what people thought we were doing with 16 children.
ugh…I am too sick to make this interesting.
What cures sickness? Rest? Water? Jungle? I will take the latter. What I should be doing now is finishing my health ed. research paper…or studying for my math quiz tomorrow…but I am scared if I do either of those things I will spill snot all over my papers…so maybe I will just make some lemon tea, and bunk in for the night.
Everything I have ever decided to do has turned into something different. I cant count as high as the number of plans I have made and changed, the number of things I have gone out to do and ended up doing something else. I guess this is going to be one of those things.
Dada has been planning on starting a Technical school in Huay Malai (the village that Baan Dada Children’s Home is in) for a long time. Now, the time is right and he has begun planning. The school will offer courses like Electricity, Automotive Mechanic, Textiles, ect…
There is a great need for the school because currently there are no higher learning centres there. The nearest one is in Kanchanaburi, (about 3.5 hours away) Most of the students in the area can not travel to Kanchanaburi due to their status (they have no Thai papers, so are not allowed to leave Sangklaburi) or due to financial problems (their families could not support them traveling and staying in Kanchanaburi) so they end up finishing highschool and having no opportunities to continue their studies. This technical school aims to provide them with this, as well as providing jobs for people in the community, boosting the economy as a whole.
Now, I am faced with something weird. Currently I am in school to study and get a degree so that in the future I can do projects like this one. That seems a little backwards doesnt it? I have the opportunity to be part of a project, and I am sitting in a classroom learning how to start projects like this. Even though I have pretended like the decision was a hard one, I think my mind was made up as soon as Dada first spoke about the project.
I will take 2 semesters off and work with dada on this. I think I will learn more from this experience than I ever could sitting in a classroom. I would love to say that I could do both, stay in school and travel and work with dada. But I dont want to put a half effort into either, and that would be inevitable if I was to try to do both. So, I will take a leave of absence from Mahidol, travel back to the Jungle and see where it gets me.
Next September I will enroll again, and start my second semester. Speaking with my mom on the phone today I was encouraged by her thoughts on the matter: “You are young, this is your life and you should do as much as you can with it.” She is right. When asking one of the volunteers at the home whether he thought it was a good idea he said “Yeah, because Bee, this is real life.”
I am not sure if I am writing this to further convince myself, or to just sort it all out in my head. Probably a little bit of both. I know if I dont take this opportunity I will regret it, especially while sitting in an over-air-conditioned classroom discussing Development.
There are a million reasons for me to go back and work with dada on this, my sanity being one of them. I would love to hear all of your opinions on this. If you have time email me and tell me what you think. 
Today I woke up earlier than usual, rather abrubtly (I had set my alarm, but turned it off in my sleep and then woke up a little later than I had intended, so I had one of those panicked, quick wake ups)
It was so early that the air had yet to turn into hot thick soup. The smog was almost pretty as the first orange tints of the sun hinted out from behind it. I got onto the next bus that arrived, and was thankful the aircon was turned down. The ride took longer than usual because the traffic is crazy in this city so early. It seems everyone tries to go a million hours early so to “beat the traffic” but it seems that idea spread faster than the swine flu, because nearly every person with a vehicle (may I remind you that I live in a city where a car, truck, bus, motorbike, waterbuffalo, bicycle, crate strapped to two wheels with a motor, and two motorbikes strapped together all represent some form of a vehicle.
The reason I got up early this morning was to meet Dada 2, we presented a slideshow about Baan Dada to about 250 children at St. Andrew’s International School. They are going to donate gifts and raise money for us for Christmas.
After the presentation Dada and I went to China town. It took us ages to find it, and once we found it we were both at a kind of a loss at what to do there. Finally we found a meal (mmm hurrah for-all veggie punjabi food). Once over stuffed with Naan bread and curried chickpeas we were able to find our ground and I managed to get some sweet cheap jars (to put the peanut butter I have been making like a mad-man in. Goodbye cravings haha) as well as an second hand backpack from a street vendor. Some how we were there for about five hours.
In between being really thirsty and having to pee while on my way home (my way consisted of one MRT ride (subway), two Sky Train rides, and one extra long bus ride) I started thinking about groups. Actually I didnt think about anything on the bus ride, because I fell asleep, but still.
Western culture teaches us at a young age to examine our individuality and highlight it so that everyone is aware you have it and use it. We are programmed to reject “conformity” (which usually results in a mass rejection of the same thing, which in its own way is conformity) and go out of our way to act differently, dress differently, find obscure hobbies, etc… As a girl I was always taught to do everything for myself, be a leader, be and Individual…blah blah blah.
All this stuff is great in theory. I think we have pulled away from the original idea a little. I mean, it is good to be able to fend for yourself (heck, I think its one of the most important characteristics) but there is a difference between being able to make your own dinner or do your own laundry, and rejecting help from other people.
Being in Thailand has made me think about why we push so hard to be alone, because in asian culture the importance of the “group” is magnified. Every aspect of life here revolves around being part of something else.
I guess there must be a balance of the two…being able to take care of yourself, as well as being able to take part in a group. I have learnt a lot about being part of a group from the children. They have taught me that it is easier to get things done when everyone does a little (duh, I know, its common sense in theory, but just try to work with a large group on something and see how different theory is from practice) I went from loving to sleep alone, in my own room, surrounded by my own stuff, to loving to sleep on a cold hard floor, with 20 plus other people, sharing everything I have. It was a major shift in thinking for me. At least a step in the direction of creating some kind of balance.
I think for the next (insert a random number here) years I will be shifting some things around in my head. Being immersed in a culture other than my own as shed light to some of the grey areas I other wise had left unlit.
The longer I stay here the more I realize that some things I thought were true aren’t, some things I thought werent true are, some things I thought were Nature are Nurture, and some things I thought were Nurture are Nature.
Whoops, I lost my train of thought. I guess that entries over. Oh yeah, and for those of you who know of the stupid plantors wort on my foot….I have started to burn it off slowly with acid (again) I will spare you all photos (although can provide them on request)
The beauty of cooking your own food. Oh how I love it. And I may sound sarcastic right now, but seriously I am eating the best mushroom/seaweed/been noodle soup that I have tasted ever…and there is absolutely no way I could have bought this from a restaurant. (probably because no one usually mixes those particular ingredients) I am now in my new house, where I have something I can cook food with, not to mention a wayyyyy sweeter room equipped with a deck. Oh yes. Sweet.
Now I am tired, because I walked around a weekend market for six hours since this morning. It was bloody hot, but I managed to get some sweet finds…such as: an old map of thailand, an old map of asia, a big world map, some peppermint soap that is so nastolgic for me, some cumin and corriander seeds, and some giant thick paper to paint on.
Now instead of writing I am going to eat. mmmm soup.
Oh yeah, and I added some more pictures from last week that the kids took…(no no no I didnt skip school…okay I skipped, but it was completely necessary.)
Oh yeah, this week while at the home we celebrated some of the kids birthdays (about every two months we do a group celebration, this time it was for the kids with birthdays from september to october)
Dada asked that we make cake and pizza. Now, with an oven in Canada these tasks are simple. But with the oven at Baan dada (yes this is the same oven that a dog buried into and gave birth in last year) the task is a little daunting. Also the village is pretty isolated (by pretty I mean really really really in the middle of the jungle) and ingredients that usually make cake and pizza easy are hard to come by. Some how (still not sure how) I managed to make enough cake and pizza from scratch to go around. I have never made my own pizza dough, and the process went something like this :
Hmmm how to make dough..well I know there is yeast..okay and flour…water…salt…okay mix it together…knead it, yes I remember kneading being important…okay now stick it in a bowl and hope it rises.
Somehow it worked, although it was more like bread with pizza toppings, but still. The cake turned out okay, except I burnt one pretty badly. All in all there were Four Cakes and Six Pizzas. It took from early morning to about 7:30pm. It took so long because I kept running out of coal, and the heat was escaping through all the holes, and the door doesnt seal. By the time I was finished I was covered in black soot from head to toe, and my used-to-be-white shirt was a weird brownish colour from the dough and cocoa.
Dada 2 told me that an oven is only 8000 baht. Man that would be a good investment for the home. I was thinking about getting one for them for christmas. Anyone want to go in on one with me? I can pay about 4000 baht, so if any one wants to chip in towards the remaining 4000 baht let me know! Email me and we can arrange it all…beedoteffdot@gmail.com
Heres some pictures to give you an idea…
My uniform is no longer uncomfortable. Now I am not sure exactly what this means, but I think it is probably some kind of pivotal time in my life or whatever. Last Thursday I was in too much of a rush on my way to the home that I didnt get a chance to change out of my uniform. I traveled all the way to baan dada in it, and about half way there I realized I was perfectly comfortable. It was an interesting trip, as when I arrived at the minibus station there was no seats left in the last van. Luckily I live in Thailand, and the women offered me a small plastic green stool. I placed it in the isle, and that was my perch all the way to Baan Dada. Considering my alternative (staying in Kanchanaburi for the night at a guest house) I was happy.
When I arrived at the home all the kids were inside watching a movie. I stepped over them to get to the office and had to laugh at their reaction to my uniform. Some of them just stared, some laughed, some made funny noises and a few looked at me like they had never seen me before. I think some of the younger kids never really realized that I was a student, and you could see them mulling it over in their heads. The next morning many of them asked me about Bangkok and University.
I stayed a couple of extra days at the home this weekend due to a Rabies scare. One of the dogs died of rabies, so we had to organize to get all the children vaccinated. It was amazing how many replies we received from people offering to help pay for the vaccinations. I will also need to get the vaccine, as anyone in contact with the dog is in danger. That is if they have an open wound (of which I have many) and if the dog licks them (which it did many times) Also, I sleep with the kids in the office, where the dogs all love to sleep as well. Long story short we had to send the dogs head in a box in the minivan to Kanchanaburi, and when it came back that for sure the dog had rabies we now have to get vaccinated.
I gave my camera away to a few of the kids this weekend to go around and take pictures. I made a separate link if you want to see the pictures that they took. Its sweet because everything is from their perspective and more natural. I got the idea from an organization in Nepal, called Photographichange. They give children camera and then sell the pictures as post cards or large prints to raise money for the schools in the area. I made a website for them last year www.photographichange.org. Check it out, its really interesting.
I also uploaded some photos from the “Mini Olympics” that the current volunteers put on for the kids this weekend. The pictures are hilarious, I wish I got more, but my camera battery died.
I had my first mid-term today. It felt like a little bit of a joke as it was extremely easy. I didnt even study a lot, and the whole time I was writing it I was waiting for the question I couldnt answer. It never came and I finished the entire thing in about 25 minutes.
I have been wondering what I am doing here. I mean I am spending so much money on something I could learn off the internet. Its weird, because I feel like I am already working on a project with an NGO (my goal for after school) but here I am studying so that I can get some kind of degree and then work on the same project some more. I have always regarded University as a sort of Joke, and the longer I stay here the more I believe that. I feel like its just a way to pass the time, a place to make wrong decisions and be able to not really suffer any consequences in real life. Its like a magnified version of Highschool. It is interesting, learning things this way, but slightly boring and I cant help but feel like I am wasting time and money. Well actually not time, because I am learning, but definitely money.
I am only back in Bangkok for today, and tomorrow I leave again right after my class.
I was thinking about all this traveling back and forth, and the home and school and everything in general. I am so happy that I found this life. Its sweet, and as much as I complain about math and classes and stupid pre-made schedules I actually enjoy it a lot. Who knows if I will still be going to school next year, where I will be, or what I will be doing, but at least right now I am happy.
I stopped believing in luck a long time ago. Well not that long, but right around the time when I started traveling, and people started telling me how “lucky” I was to get to go here or there or do whatever. It frusterated me a little to hear this because I worked for everything that I have. Its not like I won this life, not like I picked it out of a hat one day, I just decided this is what I wanted, then worked a little bit in some freezing-cold-people shouldnt be living in- conditions, saved up some money and hopped on a plane. Or a series of planes, whatever. The point is luck was not a factor at any point in time along this or any other journey I have taken. Looking back on the rest of my life I can see that luck actually never played a role. It was always a series of choices and the outcome of those choices which shaped my “path” so to speak.
I also dont believe in a pre-destined path. If everything was prearranged then what would be the point in trying? I think you can change what you want to do, change what kind of person you are, change anything. You just actually have to want to do what ever it is you think you want to do. Its easy to plan and plan and plan, but its even easier to just get up and do it. Less stress in the long run I think.
What got me thinking about luck, or more the man-madeness of the concept of Luck, is this weekend. Actually the past few weekends. I have had impecible timing when it comes to traveling. On thursday our proffessor let us out a little early, but not early enough for me to have made the last bus to Sangklaburi. I was dreading the thought of spending the night in Kanchanabur, and I got a call from Dada right as I was leaving. He was in Bangkok, and was going to get on a bus to Kanchanaburi. Where was I? On my way to the bus station, I told him. When I arrived there we got on the bus together. He had driven the truck as far as Kanchanaburi, so I was able to get a ride with him and some of the kids all the way to the home that night.
When I got home from Baan dada on sunday night, I was having tea with my neighbour from Afganistan. He said I looked really happy, so my trip must have gone well.
I couldnt help feeling happy after three nights of getting squashed by children while sleeping (the last night I got punched in the ear by a sleeping child) having one child use my hair as a pillow; I felt rejuvinated after four days of laughing so hard my stomach hurt; painting in the sun; talking to Dada2 about the future of the kids, ways of communication; getting to attend a meeting of NGO’s from Burma; teaching english; mending some childrens wounds; and everything else that goes along with Baan dada.
Now, sitting in the “information retreval room” I am covered in bug bites, there are bruises on my legs from who knows what, and one burn on my shin from a motorbike. Although my uniform is still as uncomfortable as ever, my mind is at ease because I know on thursday I will be rushing to get out of this city and back to my home in the jungle.
Last weekend I stayed here because I had to go on friday to extend my visa (I officially have a one year student visa, woot woot) and decided to take a trip into bangkok to get an adapter for my camera battery. I left on saturday morning after a quick trip to the school library so I was still wearing my school uniform, and hopped on a bus to wander the dirty polluted congested streets of Krun Tep (Bangkok). It didnt take me long to find an adapter, and I left the large Pirate building which is Pentip plaza and headed towards a weekend market. Once in the market I got a call from Dada1.
“B, we are in Bangkok now, can you meet us?” Dada had brought five kids with him, two for eye check ups, one for an art show, and two for the ride. Naturally I hopped on the next skytrain, mumbled my way onto a bus I guessed was going in the right direction, and met them at a central plaza at the other side of the city. I was so happy at the fact that although this was the one weekend I had not been able to travel to the home, bits of the home had traveled to me instead.
I ended up spending the night in downtown Bangkok so I could help dada take care of the kids. It was hectic, crazy, sweaty, and fun…although it would have been a little better if I hadnt been in my school uniform the whole time. I thought sitting around in my uniform was uncomfortable, but its like a bathrobe when compared to sleeping in the stupid thing.
We took the kids to the zoo, and wandered the streets. Sunday late afternoon I got on a city bus and went home, crumbled and tired and a little sunburnt.
Now I am awaiting swimming class once again. Last class wasnt so bad, but I have a feeling it will onlly get harder as the classes go on.
All my other classes are going well. Except math. I feel like I used to know this stuff, and now when I am trying to relearn it I am not being taught all the basics so I cant grasp it anymore. What I am really supposed to be doing right now is searching the internet for some kind of magic math site that will suddenly open my eyes to all the obvious concepts involved with radicals, exponents, and my worst enemy: the Fraction.
Also, I have been having tea every night with the person who lives in the room next to me and helping them with their english. They are from Afganistan and they have some crazy stories on what brought them here to thailand….maybe I will share that in the next entry…
Its not everyday that one is casually strolling around their university campus and has to dodge an alligator. Or something closely resembling an alligator. Okay actually maybe closer to a kamodo dragon..but still it was a giant lizard and I had to dodge it. And by dodge it I mean I was walking on a raised cement bridge and it was on the river bank. But it was HUGE. Okay..maybe just big. Well it was about 1.5 metres. Is that huge for a lizard? I think so.
I traveled to baan dada again this weekend. On the way there I tried to study my history text book. Didn’t retain one single word out of the 3 chapters I read.
It was crazy. I was let out of class a little early so I ran home and grabbed my bag, then ran to the public bus stop, just made it on the bus (the bus was pulling away and I had to jump on…the bus driver grumbling to himself in the process) then I ran from the bus stop across the street to the bus station, up the painfully slow escalator thingy that was crowded with people and if you have ever tried to push past a crowd in an asian country you will sympathize, then bought my ticket and ran down, climbed on the bus, and we pulled away. I sat in my seat, not yet relaxed because I didnt know if this bus would connect to the last one leaving for the village, sticky with perspiration and red from the sun. When we arrived in Kanchanaburi I ran to the minivan station and the bus driver happened to have gone to the bathroom, delaying the departure of the last minivan about 1 minute…just enough time for me to arrive and make it. How do you spell that sound you make when you are really relieved? Phewf? thats how I felt. Sweet: making the last van and not having to spend the night in Kanchanaburi. Even more sweet: being able to sprawl out on a straw matt in the middle of the jungle with a couple of lice-ridden jungle instead of a stuffy hotel room.
It never feels like enough time, and before I knew it I was back on the bus to come back here. I did have time to do some unfinished office work, teach two really good english classes, lay around with children watching cheesy thai dramas, talk about other worlds and philosophy with Dada 2, discuss vaccination and other projects futures with Dada 1, eat some really good cooked food and lots of banana, and meet the new volunteers. All around good trip, although it would be sweeter if I was still there.
On my bus ride home I was able to retain almost every word out of the many chapters I read….I guess I was more relaxed on my way back here than I was on my way there on thursday.
Now I am waiting for my last class of the day “health education” this will be the first class because last week the teacher never showed up. Hmm…good first impression.
Planning on going to the Immigration office in Bangkok on friday…have to renew my visa so that it can last one year. man this stuff is complicated. My political Science class is interesting and starting to get my brain thinking about the three things that confuse me most : money; borders; time.
Oh yeah…and my swimming class is taught in Thai. Now I am learning slowly this confusing language..but have never thought to learn the vocabulary sourrounding swimming lessons…quite confusing. All I got out of last class was that during our exam we were required to jump into the water from 10 metres, and swim 100 laps of the pool. Now I really hope that those numbers were translated wrong, but I dont think so. I guess I will start going to the pool and practicing.
So far my studying skills have been less than great. I have to shake this procrastination tendancy. I might as well try hard since I am here and paying for it. It is only my second week of school after …how long has it been since highschool?…after a long amount of time. Oh yeah, and I bought the wrong math text book today…man what a waste of money. Now I have to find the other one somewhere and have two giant text books.
Its only 1:00 now, and I have until 4 for my class. What to do in a country where at this time you will melt if you go outside? I guess following my last paragrah I should be saying …
okay folks thats all for now because I am going to go study my history notes from last class….
ha..okay..sure…common its only my second week.
One of the children in the home died last week. (please, if you are familiar with the home do not email dada right now, the last thing he needs is a bunch of emails he has to reply to. Just wait until he tells you himself, please.) When dada called me and told me I was in shock. I didnt cry, I just layed there in my bed and waited for something to happen. Nothing happened and I kept lying there. I tried to call my mom, maybe she would know what I was supposed to do. Because I live in the future this proved difficult. I tried to contact my best friend, but again..no connection. I just lay there.
The next day I went to orientation for my school. I did get ahold of my best friend, and had a confusing conversation, I didnt know what to feel. All of the sudden everything seemed a blur and not entirely important. As soon as everything was finished I rushed home and to a bus to go back. Dada met me in ThongPaPum (a town about 2 hours from the home), and we drove back. When I arrived it still did not seem real. There was no way a child could die, not one that I knew and loved and hugged and kissed and bugged and was annoyed by and slept next to and cuddled and got drooled on by and fed and was fed by and everything in between. There was just no way.
I walked into the office and put my bag down. Still nothing. I sat down next to some of the kids watching tv. Still nothing. Then finally I went into the multi-purpose hall (surely this is not a purpose it was built for) and sat down behind dada, who was sitting in front of the coffin.
Then I cried. I cried for a long time, and then looked at the picture next the the coffin. It must have been taken over a year ago, because he looks younger than in my memory. I cried harder when I looked at the picture. Then I looked over and saw his sisters sleeping beneath the mosquito net nearby. Then I cried even more.
We had a ceremony in the house for him, and then another at the buddhist temple near by, where we cremated the body. What a strange thing to look at the body of a child, lying there with no life. He looked so swollen and…well, dead. Seeing the body kind of shocked me, and I didnt cry for a while, until writing on the coffin.
After all the ceremonies you could feel a kind of closeness in the home, brought on by the shock of everything. I dont think it will sink in for me ever, I will always be looking around for him to bug or tickle or pick up and kiss all over.
I will miss you so much ali-ba.
