June 22nd part 3 – To add to the day of thought provocation, our last visit was to a brothel. When we arrived, there was only one friendly aspect: the ebullient girls. The brothel was housed in a U-shape with an open concrete courtyard. The individual rooms were cinder-block shells. When I took a moment to peak inside all I saw was a dirt-speckled bed without furnishings, unless you count a mosquito net.
The tone was especially somber. For me, it felt a bit like I was a Nazi-sympathizer meeting with a group of Holocaust survivors. Looking at the faces of the other males in the group, it looked like the shame expression of awkwardness and shame. We were the default enemy in a vicious battle of the sexes.
The prostitutes looked at ease and were giggling among themselves. They appeared to have built defense mechanisms long ago. To break some of the obvious tension felt by males and females alike, we played a game in a circle of throwing a tomato in the air from one person to the next. If dropped, we had to start from the beginning again. It was a good trust exercise and everyone laughed when I missed my catch. After playing the game again with an egg, the mood seemed more congenial. Nonetheless, group members lost no time in asking some very probing questions.
The first question asked was how old were the girls. It seems like an innocuous question, but it received some fairly reserved answers. Down the line answers from 19 to 24 appeared, most of which seemed plausible with a margin of error of 2 years. In the middle of the semicircle sat a very young girl. Her face seemed to lack the depression and sullenness that the other girls wore behind their false happiness. She smiled, looking to the other girls for an answer. At first it sounded like she tried to say 17, but changed her answer to 15. When we left the brothel, the general consensus was that she was closer to 12 or 13, no older than 14. Throughout the entire conversation, it was difficult to avoid staring into this young girl's face. It was captivatingly sad to imagine the life that forced these circumstances.
Around the table again, the girls answered that they were all doing this as a means to make money to send back home. When asked how much money they would need before leaving, they answered about 10,000 baht (300 USD), which would take four to five months to save. When asked how long they had been there already answers varied from one month to five. One fresh-faced girl, who was quite popular with clients, had been there only 15 days. When someone asked if the ones who had been there for several months would be heading home soon, the idea was not immediately jumped upon. “Yes,” a couple said reluctantly, perhaps based on the fear that the families they hadn't seen or spoken with would not accept them when they returned.
There were many more questions asked. Given that they went through two translations, English to Thai then Thai to Karen or Mon and back, it was about an hour and a half of questions. However, when the time came for the prostitutes to ask questions to us there was a void of interest. One of the older girls, who had acted as a spokeswoman for the group, asked if there were people in America who did what they did. Somewhat matter-of-fact we said “yes” without much explanation of contrast. Later the group would discuss how the statement we made was very dream crushing. There's was a question of hope; “Is there anywhere in the world where such unpleasant things do not exist?” Our answer reflected a harsh reality, “No, nowhere.”
Perhaps a lie would have been better. A lie to maintain hope.
As we ready to leave, the faces of the other guys in the group looked like mine: depressed from everything spoken and unspoken, weary from the general tone of distaste toward me, but overall relief from a place that was awkward and unsettling for us all to be around. However, before we could leave the women wanted to take pictures with all of us, pictures that kept dissolving into smaller groups and different permutations of people.
It added an additional layer of bizarreness to the entire day. None of the other migrant workers were interested in having much to do with us, but these women were very enthused about these pictures. I would like to think that they wanted us to take a part of them with us, away from this place.
The opposite side of the relief of walking out is the pain of empathy in knowing that none of the prostitutes get the same luxury. While we get to go back to comfortable beds and friendly surroundings to hash over all the days events, the women stay to see the few clients that gathered to lounge in the courtyard during our discussion.
There is a responsibility bestowed when you hear and see stories like the ones we hear. The challenge is knowing what to do with it.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Detemined to finish - June 22nd Part 2
I am writing from Cambodia. There are a number of stories to tell from my experience here. However, I am determine to finish writing about my volunteer experience in Thailand. The part I left off from is that my group is just leaving from the Elephant Festival and heading to Three Pagoda's Pass. So enjoy June 22nd - Part 2
June 22nd part two – It was probably quite beneficial that we proceeded to the next part of the schedule with elation. After a serpentine drive around parts of Burma, we arrived at Three Pagodas Pass. Three Pagodas Pass is the place where Burmese armies crossed into Thailand to sack the capital city of the day. Thailand followed suit years later to attack Burma. After many minor conflicts, both sides decided to construct a peace symbol on the border in the hope that no more wars would be fought.
The foundation we work with has an office in the border town to assist with language classes, disease prevention, and immigrant resources for individuals crossing from Burma to Thailand. The official border is very exact and ornate with signs and guards indicating their allegiance to their particular side. However, due to some recent flare-up, and in spite of food and construction aid for cyclone relief, the border has been closed since March. A few hundred meters away, an unofficial border exists with soldiers again as guards, but here collecting tolls from individuals passing to and from in the hope of temporary work and money to send back home. We were asked not to take pictures here, a request that was unheeded.
Our first visit was to a shoe factory. Here the workers were finished for the day, or the boss told them that they were finished for the day. Around the table sat about twenty individuals, mostly women, ranging from 17-24. However, a few looked more like 15 and one said that he was twelve. We asked questions about how much they make, where they come from, and how long they work for. For the most part, they come from a few days travel away and work a contract period of a few months, making about 5-6 dollars a day.
We continued asking questions around what they hope for, what they want to do in the future, and what they would like to change. The worker's boss stood over the table to monitor the answers of his employees. As a result, the answers were marked with brevity and conciliation. For example, a question about what kind of breaks workers receive resulted in the kind of standardized answer that would make someone from in charge of US labor standards smile.
Overall, the conversation lacked in verbal information, but told in non-verbal communication. Every worker's face expressed a tiredness and desperation at the situation. Questions about what they wanted to do in the future resulted in answers like go back home when they earned enough money. Perhaps most telling was when we asked if they had any questions for us they said no, except for one woman in the back who asked if any one of us would trade places with her. There was some awkward laughter from the workers and us, but looking at the faces around, it was obvious that no one wanted or could fully imagine trading places with this woman.
I left with the group with a profound sense of helplessness and shared responsibility. No matter how good the capitalist system seems, there are always immense trade-offs and inefficiencies. I was so shaken up that by the time we arrive at the second warehouse operation, I was trying to defend the migrant worker system. I was still trying to convince myself that these people wanted these jobs and the opportunities of money that Thailand provides, but their home country cannot.
But I couldn't excuse the things in front of my eyes of squalid, damp buildings packed with sewing machines. Here, low hanging curtains hide the beds along the walls where workers sleep after their shifts. Since the workers don't speak Thai, it may be reasonable to conclude that they never leave until they earn however much money they need for their families. As the workers focus on their machines, a few children pass a ball to each other as they pass the time. For them, there seems to be no school, just waiting. The hardest part of me is the realization that our demand for cheap goods manufactured under any conditions is what brings about these situations. Additionally difficult, is that there is no easy solution to the conundrum.
June 22nd part two – It was probably quite beneficial that we proceeded to the next part of the schedule with elation. After a serpentine drive around parts of Burma, we arrived at Three Pagodas Pass. Three Pagodas Pass is the place where Burmese armies crossed into Thailand to sack the capital city of the day. Thailand followed suit years later to attack Burma. After many minor conflicts, both sides decided to construct a peace symbol on the border in the hope that no more wars would be fought.
The foundation we work with has an office in the border town to assist with language classes, disease prevention, and immigrant resources for individuals crossing from Burma to Thailand. The official border is very exact and ornate with signs and guards indicating their allegiance to their particular side. However, due to some recent flare-up, and in spite of food and construction aid for cyclone relief, the border has been closed since March. A few hundred meters away, an unofficial border exists with soldiers again as guards, but here collecting tolls from individuals passing to and from in the hope of temporary work and money to send back home. We were asked not to take pictures here, a request that was unheeded.
Our first visit was to a shoe factory. Here the workers were finished for the day, or the boss told them that they were finished for the day. Around the table sat about twenty individuals, mostly women, ranging from 17-24. However, a few looked more like 15 and one said that he was twelve. We asked questions about how much they make, where they come from, and how long they work for. For the most part, they come from a few days travel away and work a contract period of a few months, making about 5-6 dollars a day.
We continued asking questions around what they hope for, what they want to do in the future, and what they would like to change. The worker's boss stood over the table to monitor the answers of his employees. As a result, the answers were marked with brevity and conciliation. For example, a question about what kind of breaks workers receive resulted in the kind of standardized answer that would make someone from in charge of US labor standards smile.
Overall, the conversation lacked in verbal information, but told in non-verbal communication. Every worker's face expressed a tiredness and desperation at the situation. Questions about what they wanted to do in the future resulted in answers like go back home when they earned enough money. Perhaps most telling was when we asked if they had any questions for us they said no, except for one woman in the back who asked if any one of us would trade places with her. There was some awkward laughter from the workers and us, but looking at the faces around, it was obvious that no one wanted or could fully imagine trading places with this woman.
I left with the group with a profound sense of helplessness and shared responsibility. No matter how good the capitalist system seems, there are always immense trade-offs and inefficiencies. I was so shaken up that by the time we arrive at the second warehouse operation, I was trying to defend the migrant worker system. I was still trying to convince myself that these people wanted these jobs and the opportunities of money that Thailand provides, but their home country cannot.
But I couldn't excuse the things in front of my eyes of squalid, damp buildings packed with sewing machines. Here, low hanging curtains hide the beds along the walls where workers sleep after their shifts. Since the workers don't speak Thai, it may be reasonable to conclude that they never leave until they earn however much money they need for their families. As the workers focus on their machines, a few children pass a ball to each other as they pass the time. For them, there seems to be no school, just waiting. The hardest part of me is the realization that our demand for cheap goods manufactured under any conditions is what brings about these situations. Additionally difficult, is that there is no easy solution to the conundrum.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Breaking (the) News
I am still not sure how many people read this particular. I haven't received any comments, so it is a bit like having a experimental sample without any variance in the responses. Nonetheless, this seems like as good as venue as any to inform people on future plans.
As some people may have known, I came to Thailand with the intention to volunteer in some meaningful capacity for an extended period of time. I also was waiting to hear from a volunteer application for a program in India lasting 10-months.
To my surprise, it has been difficult getting in contact with NGOs in Thailand and even more difficult to find ones that need Western volunteers. I suppose I added a layer of difficulty by searching for volunteer positions not involving teaching English. Still, I was able to get in contact with a few places of interest.
However, my most promising opportunity turned out to be an application for an internship in Cambodia. An application that I submitted at midnight the day before I left for Thailand. After a bit over a month of time in Thailand, I signed a 9-month contact for the internship in Cambodia.
I will be working for Shinta Mani, a boutique hotel, and Hotel de la Paix, a luxury hotel, both of which are in Siem Reap, the city outside of the temples of Angkor. My title is "Director of Community-Based Activities." Both hotels have extensive community outreach programs which allow guest of the hotels to donate to communities in the area.
There are number of things about the community outreach programs that are quite amazing.
First, the programs in place have a certain amount of built-in sustainability to them. Digging water wells with the condition that families plant vegetable gardens; providing loans of pigs provided that the family repays with piglets in the next cycle; buying a bicycle for a family on the condition that a child uses it to get to school. I am sure that these conditions are not followed by everyone, but the fact that they are in place is encouraging.
Secondly, the projects are funded solely by donors. This is a positive and negative in ways, but it means that a water well only gets dug if a donor requests it. This means a high level of personability to each project, with donors having the opportunity to visit the family that they have donated to. It also means that projects don't get half completed or stopped because additional funding is needed.
Lastly, the community-based activities are run under the for-profit organization of the hotels. Again, this is probably a plus and minus. However, it means that the programs are attempting to meet the demands of its consumers. Consumers who demand more than just spas and package tours of temples, but want to see positive impact from their tourism.
Although I am sure there are flaws in the system, I believe that businesses hold in an important role in make their community a better place (and hopefully having a net positive impact). I am very excited to be able to work with this group, learn from them, and add to the effectiveness of the program.
(Also, as of today, I didn't get accepted to the 10-month program in India, which is fitting.)
As some people may have known, I came to Thailand with the intention to volunteer in some meaningful capacity for an extended period of time. I also was waiting to hear from a volunteer application for a program in India lasting 10-months.
To my surprise, it has been difficult getting in contact with NGOs in Thailand and even more difficult to find ones that need Western volunteers. I suppose I added a layer of difficulty by searching for volunteer positions not involving teaching English. Still, I was able to get in contact with a few places of interest.
However, my most promising opportunity turned out to be an application for an internship in Cambodia. An application that I submitted at midnight the day before I left for Thailand. After a bit over a month of time in Thailand, I signed a 9-month contact for the internship in Cambodia.
I will be working for Shinta Mani, a boutique hotel, and Hotel de la Paix, a luxury hotel, both of which are in Siem Reap, the city outside of the temples of Angkor. My title is "Director of Community-Based Activities." Both hotels have extensive community outreach programs which allow guest of the hotels to donate to communities in the area.
There are number of things about the community outreach programs that are quite amazing.
First, the programs in place have a certain amount of built-in sustainability to them. Digging water wells with the condition that families plant vegetable gardens; providing loans of pigs provided that the family repays with piglets in the next cycle; buying a bicycle for a family on the condition that a child uses it to get to school. I am sure that these conditions are not followed by everyone, but the fact that they are in place is encouraging.
Secondly, the projects are funded solely by donors. This is a positive and negative in ways, but it means that a water well only gets dug if a donor requests it. This means a high level of personability to each project, with donors having the opportunity to visit the family that they have donated to. It also means that projects don't get half completed or stopped because additional funding is needed.
Lastly, the community-based activities are run under the for-profit organization of the hotels. Again, this is probably a plus and minus. However, it means that the programs are attempting to meet the demands of its consumers. Consumers who demand more than just spas and package tours of temples, but want to see positive impact from their tourism.
Although I am sure there are flaws in the system, I believe that businesses hold in an important role in make their community a better place (and hopefully having a net positive impact). I am very excited to be able to work with this group, learn from them, and add to the effectiveness of the program.
(Also, as of today, I didn't get accepted to the 10-month program in India, which is fitting.)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A break in continuity
It feels misplaced to make a post that breaks the chronology of the posts that I am trying to make about my volunteer experience in Thailand. Nonetheless, I just figured out how to use the internet connection in my hotel room, so I reasoned that I should use it to its full potential.
I should start by explaining that the reason that I am in a hotel room is that I am traveling in the Northeast of Thailand. The day before I was traveling in Laos. I needed to leave the country to renew my visa so that I could stay in Thailand for potentially another 30 days.
I found Laos to be a very beautiful country. Everything was a little different from Thailand, but similar. The food is close to the same. The language is similar enough that Thais and Laotians can understand each other. The biggest difference that separates the countries is money. Thailand, on the whole, has it and Laos does not.
I had the time to spend in Laos if I so chose, but I really had no idea what to do with myself. I spent most of my time wandering around the streets of Vientian. I ate a delicious meal at a Laos restaurant and explored the waterfront of the Mekong River. When I returned to my room, I decided that in order to have fun in this laid-back country I would need traveling companions.
I had meet some interesting people on the train and border crossing, but no one I felt the urge to spend many days with. I figured there was a lot of Northeast Thailand that I had yet to explore. So that is how I ended up at the border town of Nong Khai, in an air-conditioned room with a double bed, satellite TV and a computer. Tomorrow I will attempt to reach a somewhat un-touristy national park.
Three days from then, I need to be in Bangkok to follow-up on a job interview. Continuity continues.
I should start by explaining that the reason that I am in a hotel room is that I am traveling in the Northeast of Thailand. The day before I was traveling in Laos. I needed to leave the country to renew my visa so that I could stay in Thailand for potentially another 30 days.
I found Laos to be a very beautiful country. Everything was a little different from Thailand, but similar. The food is close to the same. The language is similar enough that Thais and Laotians can understand each other. The biggest difference that separates the countries is money. Thailand, on the whole, has it and Laos does not.
I had the time to spend in Laos if I so chose, but I really had no idea what to do with myself. I spent most of my time wandering around the streets of Vientian. I ate a delicious meal at a Laos restaurant and explored the waterfront of the Mekong River. When I returned to my room, I decided that in order to have fun in this laid-back country I would need traveling companions.
I had meet some interesting people on the train and border crossing, but no one I felt the urge to spend many days with. I figured there was a lot of Northeast Thailand that I had yet to explore. So that is how I ended up at the border town of Nong Khai, in an air-conditioned room with a double bed, satellite TV and a computer. Tomorrow I will attempt to reach a somewhat un-touristy national park.
Three days from then, I need to be in Bangkok to follow-up on a job interview. Continuity continues.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
June 22nd
June 22nd – The schedule for Sunday's activities is quite eclectic. There is an elephant festival to begin the day, followed by lunch, a visit to Three Pagoda Pass (the historical border crossing between Thailand and Burma), and a visit to the town Sangklaburi's main attractions, including Thailand's longest wooden bridge.
The elephant festival was quite a spectacular way to start the day. Unlike most participants of the trip, I had some context to place the experience. Thai festivals for the most part are a mix of fun and friendliness mixed with a dose of self-aggrandizement. As the largest contingency of Westerners there, we were somewhat of a spectacle ourselves. However, the best seats in the field were reserved for the chief of police, some key ministers, and the governor of the province. The school principal and the education director of all Thailand's Christian schools were also there, but they were relegated to the somewhat uncomfortable plastic chairs where we sat. The education director was especially pleased to learn that I might be interested in teaching in Thailand. He gave me his number and was insistent that I call him. It was comforting to know that the ease of getting a teaching could be so straightforward.
Soon it didn't matter who has the comfortable chairs, as everyone stood to watch the procession of elephants coming. In bright orange and pink covers, the elephants were led by a parade of drumming people to a gigantic cake awaiting them. When I say “cake” I really mean a tower of fruit and sugar cane and when I say “gigantic” I mean the size of an outdoor pool in area and slightly taller than, let's say, an elephant.Good fun was had posing by the elephants, saying prayers by the elephants, and subsequently watching the elephants gorge themselves on fruit. There was also free food for humans to gorge on, some of which was provided to all who came, and other food which was provided by the governor and ministers. Fortunately or unfortunately, the ministers decided to invite us to eat with them.
It is always conflicting to receive special treatment based solely on your country of origin, or skin color. After some insistence on their part, we did away with our home organizations rules about not accepting or extending any gifts.
With food in front of us, we enjoyed some traditional Thai music and dance, as well as a children's play. We left the event somewhat confused and overstimulated by the happenings, but nonetheless extremely elated and strong of heart.
June 21st
June 21st – Again, today is a Shabbat day. Despite not being a particularly enforced Shabbat (we can, for example, turn on lights and exercise to the point of sweating) there are rules in place forbid us from traveling any considerable distances.
So today is mostly a day of recovery and relaxation. Some people do yoga in the morning. Most of us sleep-in though. In total, I probably only slept for an half-an-hour past our normal wake-up time of six-forty-five. Down stairs a group of local children had gathered for a Saturday environmental learning session outside of their regular schooling. The outdoor class put on by the Foundation lacked desks and consisted more of songs and dance to keep the children entertained. Song and dance are fine, but it is difficult to sleep through.
Given that I was one of the few up eating breakfast, the teacher asked if I would teach a bit about global warming from my experience in the United States. The prospect was a little intimidating but seemed perfectly doable with the help of a translator. Soon I was joined by another participant and two group leaders. After introducing ourselves, I figured I would talk a bit about my own experiences in environmental activism, which had mostly to do with using renewable energy sources rather than dirty forms from coal and the such.
Part way into my story, it became clear that I wasn't being particularly clear. One of the leaders stopped the story to see if the children knew where electricity came from. After several creative answers (the air, the sky) someone finally said fuel. They had heard of coal and were familiar with petrol. However a follow-up question about how many children had electricity in their homes revealed that only four out of thirty did.
I found this quite fascinating for two reasons. First, it was amazing to imagine that only 15% of all the children here had electricity when every building we passed had access to electricity. Secondly, it was amazing that these children were studying about conserving the environment and global climate change, something that is almost entirely manufactured by industrialized CO2 emissions.
We decided to take a different tact and discuss the importance of trees in combating global climate change. This is a lesson that is crucial in an area where land owners level forests for the production of rubber from rubber trees. For many, especially the poorest, the forest provide a source of income and offer plants and animals for people to eat. For all, the forest is a natural sponge for heavy rainfall. Lacking a natural forest results in accelerated erosion and causes rivers to swell, flooding houses and crops.
Following some enjoyable dancing with the children, all the participants gathered for an afternoon hike. It turned out to be a good display of the morning's lesson. Walking along the main road, I could peer inside the wooden houses or small sundry shops and see old and young taking naps, watching a bit of television, or listening to music. A turn up the path led to a two-lane dirt road. Here, the electrical wires did not follow us.
At first we are greeted by rows of rubber trees. They are planted in rows, with cups at the bottom to catch their sap. There is an odd trick of the eye that from the side the grove looks like a homogeneous forest of scattered trees. As I walk forward, the lines slowly take shape revealing their meticulous depth into the landscape. And as I continue forward, the image dissolves again.
Along the way the sky opened with torrents of water. Everyone seemed to enjoy the rain, and some took to skipping in it. Meanwhile natives passed us with sharp looks from under their umbrellas. (As an illustration of how much Thai people don't like to get wet, the following day we passed a motorcyclist in the rain wearing a full poncho and holding an umbrella just above eye-level as he drove.)
Eventually, we reached the village where our guide resided and would lead us off the beaten path. He was a short, older man who had the habit of chewing betel nut leaves. The leaves taken with bicarbonate produces a mild drug effect similar to amphetamines. It also stains teeth a wicked brownish red, that gives the appearance that the person is bleeding from the gums or has just eaten an animal raw. He carried a machete and wore a sarong and flip-flops. In addition, he wore a t-shirt that clashed with everything else about him.
Without introduction, we followed him into the forest in search of a particular waterfall. Wet, decaying leaves made it difficult for people with hiking boots to make progress. Meanwhile, our guide in a dress and shoes without traction scaled a 60 degree slope without pause. We slowly and carefully followed up, while some group members without proper shoes fell a few times.
To add to the difficultly of the trek, our guide pointed out a particular type of bush that we were not to touch. The only problem is that to us everything in this forest looked foreign and equally untouchable.
Despite the machete, it was the middle of the rainy season and there was too much fallen debris to make it to the main waterfall. We satisfied ourselves with the peacefulness of a stream. In my mind, there was also something very tranquil about the knowledge that we were only a few kilometers from the village without electricity, a few more kilometers from the village with electricity, and only a few more kilometers to a full town of infrastructure and street lights. In cities, it is easy to forget the interconnection we play with nature. Out in this wilderness it is impossible to ignore.
Our guide led us out of the forest and took us to the farm where he works. The farm is run by the foundation and allows stateless people to work the land an profit from its proceeds. The farm grows not only rice, the main crop of the region, but also vegetables gardens and fish ponds for a sustainable source of nourishment. Here too, it is impossible to ignore the dynamics humans play with nature.
For me, the days events were a wonderful reflection. Although I am deeply passionate and concerned about the environment, I generally think of it as a dichotomy; I live in the city and nature exists outside. Being in this place makes it obvious that co-existence with nature, in one form or another, rather than division, is the only sustainable lifestyle.
So today is mostly a day of recovery and relaxation. Some people do yoga in the morning. Most of us sleep-in though. In total, I probably only slept for an half-an-hour past our normal wake-up time of six-forty-five. Down stairs a group of local children had gathered for a Saturday environmental learning session outside of their regular schooling. The outdoor class put on by the Foundation lacked desks and consisted more of songs and dance to keep the children entertained. Song and dance are fine, but it is difficult to sleep through.
Given that I was one of the few up eating breakfast, the teacher asked if I would teach a bit about global warming from my experience in the United States. The prospect was a little intimidating but seemed perfectly doable with the help of a translator. Soon I was joined by another participant and two group leaders. After introducing ourselves, I figured I would talk a bit about my own experiences in environmental activism, which had mostly to do with using renewable energy sources rather than dirty forms from coal and the such.
Part way into my story, it became clear that I wasn't being particularly clear. One of the leaders stopped the story to see if the children knew where electricity came from. After several creative answers (the air, the sky) someone finally said fuel. They had heard of coal and were familiar with petrol. However a follow-up question about how many children had electricity in their homes revealed that only four out of thirty did.
I found this quite fascinating for two reasons. First, it was amazing to imagine that only 15% of all the children here had electricity when every building we passed had access to electricity. Secondly, it was amazing that these children were studying about conserving the environment and global climate change, something that is almost entirely manufactured by industrialized CO2 emissions.
We decided to take a different tact and discuss the importance of trees in combating global climate change. This is a lesson that is crucial in an area where land owners level forests for the production of rubber from rubber trees. For many, especially the poorest, the forest provide a source of income and offer plants and animals for people to eat. For all, the forest is a natural sponge for heavy rainfall. Lacking a natural forest results in accelerated erosion and causes rivers to swell, flooding houses and crops.
Following some enjoyable dancing with the children, all the participants gathered for an afternoon hike. It turned out to be a good display of the morning's lesson. Walking along the main road, I could peer inside the wooden houses or small sundry shops and see old and young taking naps, watching a bit of television, or listening to music. A turn up the path led to a two-lane dirt road. Here, the electrical wires did not follow us.
At first we are greeted by rows of rubber trees. They are planted in rows, with cups at the bottom to catch their sap. There is an odd trick of the eye that from the side the grove looks like a homogeneous forest of scattered trees. As I walk forward, the lines slowly take shape revealing their meticulous depth into the landscape. And as I continue forward, the image dissolves again.
Along the way the sky opened with torrents of water. Everyone seemed to enjoy the rain, and some took to skipping in it. Meanwhile natives passed us with sharp looks from under their umbrellas. (As an illustration of how much Thai people don't like to get wet, the following day we passed a motorcyclist in the rain wearing a full poncho and holding an umbrella just above eye-level as he drove.)
Eventually, we reached the village where our guide resided and would lead us off the beaten path. He was a short, older man who had the habit of chewing betel nut leaves. The leaves taken with bicarbonate produces a mild drug effect similar to amphetamines. It also stains teeth a wicked brownish red, that gives the appearance that the person is bleeding from the gums or has just eaten an animal raw. He carried a machete and wore a sarong and flip-flops. In addition, he wore a t-shirt that clashed with everything else about him.
Without introduction, we followed him into the forest in search of a particular waterfall. Wet, decaying leaves made it difficult for people with hiking boots to make progress. Meanwhile, our guide in a dress and shoes without traction scaled a 60 degree slope without pause. We slowly and carefully followed up, while some group members without proper shoes fell a few times.
To add to the difficultly of the trek, our guide pointed out a particular type of bush that we were not to touch. The only problem is that to us everything in this forest looked foreign and equally untouchable.
Despite the machete, it was the middle of the rainy season and there was too much fallen debris to make it to the main waterfall. We satisfied ourselves with the peacefulness of a stream. In my mind, there was also something very tranquil about the knowledge that we were only a few kilometers from the village without electricity, a few more kilometers from the village with electricity, and only a few more kilometers to a full town of infrastructure and street lights. In cities, it is easy to forget the interconnection we play with nature. Out in this wilderness it is impossible to ignore.Our guide led us out of the forest and took us to the farm where he works. The farm is run by the foundation and allows stateless people to work the land an profit from its proceeds. The farm grows not only rice, the main crop of the region, but also vegetables gardens and fish ponds for a sustainable source of nourishment. Here too, it is impossible to ignore the dynamics humans play with nature.
For me, the days events were a wonderful reflection. Although I am deeply passionate and concerned about the environment, I generally think of it as a dichotomy; I live in the city and nature exists outside. Being in this place makes it obvious that co-existence with nature, in one form or another, rather than division, is the only sustainable lifestyle.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
June 20th – Today is Friday, the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath. As a result, our work day is shortened. We get to the work site ready to work, however, once again there is a delay in the cement process. For an hour, the principal asks us to pay the time flattening out the road with additional dirt. The process is highly haphazard without any guidance or tools.
The hour-long project is somewhat characteristic of or work, and perhaps of work projects in Thailand generally; bounded in the present, without thought about the long term. Adding more dirt to a dirt road that continually gets washed out or muddy is a solution that is unlikely to be the best solution.
Likewise, when we finally get the mixer working and running, there were general complaints about the process from the Americans, Coming from a country that is at the forefront in so many regards, Americans often presume that they have superior ideas and techniques to get things accomplished. Here, as with I think any work in another country, you have to take a step back, ask questions, and try to understand a situation before immediately applying your own solution. Despite some vocal dissatisfaction from a civil engineer in the group and a former construction-type worker, we took the passive view and followed the lead of our Thai workers.
The work seemed to progress fairly smoothly. I don't know how to compare it with another type of work I have done, but there seemed to be a general level of satisfaction.
As the day was shortened by Shabbat rules, we completed only a small portion of the total play court. We headed back to the Foundation center to shower and take some of the first free-time of the trip.
About half the group used this as an opportunity to check out the village. The other half had volunteered themselves for various Shabbat-related activities. The rabbi and two women were in charge of challah making. The civil engineer and the social justice coordinator of UW Hillel were constructing the oven to make the bread. And someone was called out to get candles, which comically were the saffron candles used by Thai Buddhist monks.
I had been invited by our Thai cook to assist her in making Pad Thai. With limited Thai I told her that Americans love Pad Thai and that I knew basically how to make it. I ended up being more of an observer and taster than anything else.
There were two neat things about the process. First, she fried large slices of garlic in the wok with a great deal of oil. She strained the garlic to top the dish later, then she used the garlic-infused oil for the rest of the dish. Second she cooked the noodles very quickly, after cooking the egg, by adding just enough water to the mix. The overall result was amazing. Perhaps the best Pad Thai I have had, especially since most Thais put small dried shrimp in their Pad Thai, which I don't enjoy.
While in the kitchen, I also got to watch the bread making process unfold. In the list of ingredients requested, the Thais shopping could not find yeast. So the three bread makers had to be creative in their process. Challah is a braided usually light, soft bread that is very absorbent in picking up soups or sauces. That kind of bread was not going to be possible. Instead the bakers concocted a sweet bread with bananas and peaches and a savory bread similar to foccacia, with garlic and basil. Both ended up looking quite good, but it would be up to the bread team to bake the stuff.
Thai people generally cook on woks fueled by hot propane. This makes for very quick food preperation. Things like bread and cookies are frequently sold at 7-11, but the average Thais shy away from such production. Given the hot climate, it is easy to see why most people are not keen to have a slow cooking, hot furnace inside or near their house. However, the oven team created a nice concrete block of insulation, under which they placed a charcoal crucible used for producing soups and stewed dishes.
Two or so hours passed. We gathered for a nice Friday evening service. In spite of having knowledgeable Hebrew speakers and a Rabbi, we lacked prayer books, so we opted for a service mostly of wordless songs and meditation on the week so far and the idea of rest. Everyone seemed to agree, even those without knowledge of Jewish practices, that the service was quite lovely.
Dinner together was quite wonderful. The Pad Thai had cooled considerably since I had first eaten it, and it was no longer the best Pad Thai I had ever tried. Miracle of miracles, the bread was delicious for both savory and sweet varieties. In fact, when I went back for a second tasting, there was none left over. We said the prayer of wine using Elephant Beer, in light of Thailand having no wine available.
After the meal, we had a study session about the cost of these short term trips and if resources could be better spent in other ways. There was the general feel that our skills as university-educated individuals were not being exploited and that we could be doing much more valuable tasks than working on a playground. My defense was that the point of the trip is not so much in the work accomplished, which given the time frame regardless of the type of work, is very minimal. The purpose is to be invigorated and enlightened. In a bizarre way, it is a form of tourism, but tourism with the intent to make things better, not some much in the short term of the trip, but in a larger context of giving purpose to future endeavors. For me that invigoration is directed at development work throughout the world, but I kow for others this trip may make them more compassionate accountants, or dentists, or actuaries.
The general consensus of the meeting was that a great deal of resources had been put into this trip and it was up to us the make the most of the personal connections along the way.
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