Last week was rough. Blame it on what you will (I choose the precedence that cleaning took over everything combined with the lingering ickiness of being sick), but motivation was hard to come by. I found myself less and less prepared for my classes and less and less inclined to interact with everyone. I needed a slight mental break that did not involve me trying to tell my students to clean and required less Thai in general. And then, we had a visitor.
Piboon, the head of the ICT department speaks okay English. He himself has been learning since the charity that the two boys belong two has started coming here about 4 years ago. He's one of those active learners who is constantly trying out new words, not caring if he says "juice" ten times before we finally understand that the word is "judge." This English has come in handy as one of his sisters is married to an Englishman (who, for all his living here, has not picked up much of the language) and another is living in America, studying to be a nurse practitioner. The latter sister, Poonya, was in for a visit last week. She has been in Michigan for a while now, so her English is lovely. She came in in a flurry of American attitude--questioning anew things that we have mostly accepted.
"They don't give you a schedule in English? Really?"
"Sometimes your students just don't come?!"
"I can't believe they expect you to do ______! That's crazy!"
It's really odd how much general "eh" sort of acceptance I have managed to cultivate without fully realizing it. Quick example: our water has been going on and off for the past two weeks, effectively delaying laundry and dishwashing plans on several occasions. Yesterday afternoon, I returned home to find the whole contraption that supplies us (usually) with water had been moved. The giant tubs were elsewhere, a tree had been cut down, pieces of pipe were scattered between cement bags. I figured there would be no water. For a while. Check. Luckily, I had filled up an old water bottle or two with some tap water, enough to rinse toothpaste and wash my hands. But by some odd twist of luck, it rained last night. A good, solid amount of rain that sounds lovely on the tin overhang. Taking advantage of this fortunate coincidence, I took my shower outside, fully clothed, of course. Laundry and shower in one. Maybe I'll have water tonight. But maybe not. Things that struck Poonya as unacceptable but I have learned to just shrug my shoulders at. Which brings me back to the story--
Poonya came in, speaking English, and led the way for a bit. She cooked shepherd's pie (want to talk about "from scratch?" Try not only mashing your own potatoes, but also mincing your own meat.) and invited us to go camping with her , Piboon, and her friend in her parents' village. Lorcan and I readily accepted and on Friday afternoon, we headed to Ubon with the two siblings. After asking us what types of food we missed from home, Poonya decided that we should make jambalaya. A massive trip to the supermarket in Ubon to buy supplies for the weekend provided me with some semblance of the ingredients. Kind of. We went with Isaan sausage and some funky soybean mushroom flavorful sauce, got home and started cooking a jambalaya in a wok.
I was really excited about this, as was Poonya.
With no Tony's at hand (how did I not bring any to Thailand?) we ground up some chilies with the mortar and pestle and added that in.
Gave it a nice kick. It was alright. Granted, I'm biased because I LOVE my jambalaya…and this did not taste like my jambalaya. Rather, it tasted like a Thai jambalaya.
It reminded me of that time that I wanted a burger in Bangkok and managed to buy one from Burger King, only to find it drenched in sauce and other foreign tastes. What is a distinctly American food managed to taste distinctly… well, Thai.
By this time, a real cold had taken hold of me. I headed to bed early, sleeping at Piboon's third sister's house. The market was the early morning stop and soup was the breakfast. We, the girls of this camping trip, once again fell into the heavy gender roles and began preparing all the food for the trip. Two hours outside of Ubon, after a combination of dirt roads and paved ones, we found ourselves in Pibpoon's village. From what I understood, the village is named Heaven because of its beauty, nestled between a number of (smaller) mountains. The village is made up mainly of farmers and is quite small. Piboon and Poonya told us how they used to have to ride their bikes for an hour to get to their middle school.
The farm was beautiful. I think the crop was cassava; the closest we could come to a description was 'potato.' Their parents were lovely. Upon arrival, we met them at the fields, sat down either in hammocks or on the raised platform that serves as both table and seating. We then cooked some of the shish kabobs that we had prepared, along with leftover Isaan sausage and some octopus tentacles on a stick. All of these were prepared barbeque style, a word that has worked itself well enough into Thai vocabulary. Served with Poonya's homemade sauce, the kabobs were AMAZING. Grilled pineapple in sauce with some pork juice dripping over slice of onion…. Mmmm. Piboon's mother made some papaya salad and sticky rice and we went to town. After the meal, we headed into the village to gather up supplies, namely tents and blankets at his parents' house. We strapped everything to our bags and even filled a rolly suitcase with water. The father drove us out to the edge of the mountain and then we started our hike.
The climb wasn't bad…besides a ladder that creakily protested our usage of it, it was really pleasant.
I still find it hilarious that this suitcase was used as camping gear.
The weather was cool and the area was pretty. At one point, nearly two thirds of the way up, we saw the abode that used to house a monk. There's a good reason why hermitages are often found on mountains. The view is worth the alone time.
When I had been told that we would be hiking in, I was sure that it would be a hike measured in hours… turns out in less than an hour we had made it to our destination and were setting up camp. Three tents, and two fires (one for cooking, one for light and warmth) and we were good to go.
Thai people hold food in high esteem. Actually, they think of food a lot like we in Louisiana do--an absolute necessity for enjoying oneself. Naturally the first order of business was cooking. The sun went down, deliciousness ensued. We ate the rest of the kabobs and then some mama noodles, ending the night with grilled chicken.
We told stories, laughed quite a bit, and soon got the blankets out of their bags to ward off the increasingly cold air. It was only a matter of time till we were all lying on our backs, looking up, astounded by the sky.
Piboon's village, as I said, is a small farming village, sparing us the usual light pollution. A new moon contributed to the overall darkness and when lying at just the right angle, you couldn't even notice the embers of the fire. The expanse of stars that were visible to the naked eye was overwhelming. You could see them clustered in bands and could actually make out the reasons why constellations were made up in the first place. I not only saw Orion's belt, but his arm and, for the first time, his bow. I found out that one very bright star with seven stars clustered around is called a chicken star in Thailand. Through accents and translations we talked about how Piboon, head of the ICT department, prefers "the wild" andis not a huge fan of civilization. We even touched on the physics of it all, even calling "quarks" into account. Conversation petered off as we slowly gave into the cold and the beauty, made our way into our respective tents.
It would be nice for me to leave out a description of the night's rest I had (it can't even really be qualified as sleep), but, in a complete and total mood killer, I spent the night freezing after managing to get the thin blanket. Still sick from early, my body was not happy with my attempts t staying warm nor at trying to find a comfortable position on rock. Dawn came soon enough, and after a brief excursion for more firewood, we thawed our bones and made French toast and coffee over a campfire.
I received news of a Saints victory sitting on top of a mountain, watching the sunrise and eating campfire-cooked French toast. An okay replacement for not having seen the game… I guess.
A little bit of walking to see the already risen sun and a failed attempt at a group photo.
Again, please
We gathered our things and trudged back down. Piboon's father met us once again and drove us back to his house. Rounding one of the corners in his village, a group of what looked to be policemen stopped us. Their reasoning had nothing to do with laws and everything to do with seeing two foreigners in the back of a truck. In perfect small town mentality, they asked us to stop to meet us and, well, stare a little. The good natured encounter drove home the fact that some of these people have never seen a foreigner, that diversity is a concept practically nonexistent in Thailand. In a moment that felt similar to Rwanda, I watched their reactions to hearing their language come out of our mouths. Smiles.
We continued on back to the parents house where a delicious meal was waiting and several more people stopped in to see these curious white skinned people. We ate (again) and I lounged around in a hammock as the family visited in rapid Thai. As we were leaving, Piboon's mother put her arm around me, we exchanged our goodbyes in Thai and then she said "see you again." I can't wait to go back.
I came back on Monday a bit too pensive for my own good, but things have gotten better throughout the week. The camping break was needed… and it sounds as if we have an open invitation to return whenever Piboon returns. The next time, it should be awesome; I'm packing my own blankets.
As for now, I'm off to enjoy the cooler weather that this rain has brought with it and the joys of cycling under overcast skies.
95 °F
85 °F
