Post 19: Ebb and Flow

The quiet routine of my village life has not yet resumed since my training in Korat, which I finished a month ago. My first week back at school, the students and teachers were bouncing with excitement at my return. This made me feel good and like I was doing something right. I took the fact that my presence was missed a sign that I have truly become part of the community. However it was slightly demoralizing (and guilt inducing) that everyone I saw reminded me I had been gone for a long time. Still, it felt wonderful to be back and re-assume my life with its simple pleasures. I spent the next few days teaching, catching up with people, and putting my life back in order. In honor of my return, both Mr. John and my supervisor invited me over to eat mugata that weekend. Mugata is a version of Korean Barbeque, where you grill pieces of meat over hot coals and then eat it with boiled vegetables, noodles, and sauce. It is kind of like a special occasion meal.
Saturday night I headed to John and Film’s house, toting the s’more materials my dad sent me in the mail. After we ate our fill of mugata, I whipped out jumbo puff marshmallows, Hershey’s, and graham crackers, and we used the still hot coals to toast the marshmallows. Film went nuts over s’mores and ate at least three. Mr. John is not a fan of chocolate, but did dip his graham cracker in a bit of marshmallow goo, and before long all three of our faces were sticky with s’more residue. It was one of the best experiences I have had at site. I knew for sure s’mores were a hit when the next evening, while I was in the midst of a shower, Film and two friends showed up on my porch hunting for marshmallows.
Sunday, I ran out of ways to occupy myself. My whole village was quiet, as everyone went to the fields to harvest rice (I think). Glowing with the success of my s’more exchange and possessing half a bunch of old bananas, I decided to make banana nut bread in my rice cooker. I made a little project out of it, by purchasing each ingredient from different stores around town. Eggs from my neighbors, sugar and salt from a dried food store in town, milk from the market (the flour I had already bought in Phitsanulok, as you don’t find flour outside of cities). I was doubtful whether the banana bread would turn out well, as I didn’t follow a recipe so much as improvise, but a few hours later, I had baked a huge, beautiful, delicious-smelling, banana bread. I immediately put it on a plate and set off to find people to feed. I tried all my neighbors, many of whom are elderly. The old couple across the street said it would hurt their stomach, so took teeny bites, but their teacher daughter and her husband, who owns the store next door, both ate bigger pieces. I gave a chunk to my toothless yard caretaker, but she immediately put it in the dog’s bowl. I swung my Mr. John and Film’s house to give them a piece, and that night, brought a chunk to my supervisor’s house, where I was eating mugata again that night. All that was left I then brought to school the next day. It was a big hit with the teachers, and everyone seemed very impressed I could cook it all by myself, which I’ll be honest, I was too.
The following week was a short one, as on Wednesday I left site to go to Loei province. My friend Katelyn was holding an English/ life skills camp for 200 high school students and five volunteers went to help her out. Loei is just over the mountains from Phitsanulok, and Katelyn’s community is on the very Northern part, bordering the Mekong River and Laos. Her site is beautiful, in the mountains, and quite remote. Katelyen recently adopted a puppy named Mervin, so in the evenings when camp as over, we all hung out, played with her puppy, and played Apples to Apples. The actual camp was three days long, and supposed to be themed around the “body”. The sessions ended up being a hodge podge of HIV/AIDS awareness, yoga, nutrition, sound words, emotional health, directions, and for some reason, the Macarena. The students were teenagers all the way up to 18, and it was a fairly difficult age group to work with- the younger kids do not try to sneak off for cigarettes or mutter curse words in Thai under their breath. Despite the lack of cohesion and the fact that half of the volunteers were sick, the camp came off quite well. They did not learn much English, but I believe we imparted more valuable gifts, like health education and an opportunity for them to express themselves creatively as individuals. Saturday evening, we hopped on the two and a half hour song taio (like a pick-up truck with benches in the back) we headed into the small city of Loei for a night out, where we drank “essence of lion” and went to a club called Robot 2029-the club of the future.
We all slept on mats on the floor at Katelyn’s house, so it was inevitable illness would spread. Julia came into the camp sick, and by the end of the three days, both the boys (Victor and Dan) were sick too. It was just a matter of time before her germs spread to me. I felt fine through Sunday and Monday, but Tuesday morning, it hit me. I went to school, but halfway through my class I knew I needed to go home. The teachers were all extremely worried and gave me three bags of noodle soup to take home. My illness lasted for a full week. Some days I woke up feeling better than others, and went to school on time every morning. Still, without fail, by 10 or 11 o’clock am, I would start to fade and head home to bed. The first two days, I had a fever and a headache, which then transitioned into a cold and sinus pain. I felt weak and had absolutely no appetite, so I did not eat much, which perpetuated feeling weak. I spent a lot of time in bed, napping, reading, and watching episodes of 24 that Katelyn lent me. While this may sound relaxing, I started to go stir crazy. I usually felt ok at night, and as a result did an array of art projects. Oddly enough, it was a very productive time creatively. But far and away, the most difficult part was the emotional toll being sick had on me. I rarely get sick and hate being bored, as a result I do not handle being sick very well.
It is hard being sick, all alone, in a foreign country. I felt profoundly homesick and lonely for the first time since being here. Even the times when physically I was doing fine, I felt anxious, restless and disassociated. With so much time to myself, to think, read, and write, I went slightly nuts. It was almost like I had been keeping myself so busy with teaching, life at site, and personal projects, that when I was finally forced to slow down and let the flying dust in my brain settle, all these thoughts and large questions crept into my mind. It probably did not help that I am reading War and Peace, a novel that deals with existential questions and the meaning of life, but for a couple days I felt incredibly confused and consumed by…I’m not sure what exactly. I was freaking out a little.
Ultimately, the crazy passed with the actual illness, and I am back to normal. All the opportunity for reflection helped me realize important things about myself, and forced me to seriously consider my life here, my motivation for doing this, and what I want to get out of it, rather than just letting the experience carry me. It was a painful week, but I think I came out of it with a clearer vision of who I am and why I am here. My house also looks nicer now, with all the art projects adorning the walls.