Various Vignettes and Moments Captured

Thailand . . . the land of "A" smile . . .

Thailand touts itself as being the “land of smiles.” Vegas sized billboards, boarding passes, menus, T-shirts, shop windows, busses, business cards, school posters, and all manner of advertisement ubiquitously announce that this particular plot of soil is where the seed for a smile was originally planted and where it most abundantly flourishes. I would argue that Thailand is the land of “A” smile.

Thai people, after all, are just people like the rest of us and have in no way been genetically modified to have a particular propensity for curling the corners of their lips up towards the heavens in kindness and welcome. People here, like everywhere, are individual and difficult to pack tightly into a single mold. There are those who scowl and glare in truculent animosity, and there are those who have no other facial expression, but a smile, rendering it mundane and meaningless. There are old people, young people, rich people, poor people, people who make their money illegally, and those who would rather give a meal away for free than accept corrupted currency. There are people who are magnanimous, kind, honest, and devoted to caring for their family and friends, and there are people who selfishly hoard their earnings and have no problem slighting someone else for their own gain. These traits are not endemic to any particular people or place in the world; they are simply what make up the fabric of a community . . . any community . . . globally.

But this country, this place, this plot of land is singular in that it is home to “A” smile – a hybridized version of the gesture that is shared all across the globe and universe, for all we know. Not everyone possess it’s magic and even fewer are able to deliver it with ease and proficiency . . . many never attempt it and most don’t even know it exists. But live here for a month, 6 months, a year and it becomes apparent that there is “A” smile and when someone wields its power, it is the warmest, most encouraging, and open embrace a person can receive.

I don’t think that Thai people smile more than the rest of the world’s population and for the most part they don’t do it better, but there is a small portion of the populace that have smiles so deep in their hearts that they have perfected wearing them on their faces and it’s a treasure to be given such a gift. It’s an experience that eludes my vocabulary and leaves me searching for a worthy description. But one knows when they’ve been the beneficiary of such a deed, because minutes later, long after the exchange, a smile still marks their face and lights their eyes; they feel lighter, like someone saw their soul, all that makes them pure and true and all that they have done to tarnish themselves – and still they rendered them worthy of “A” smile . . . a clean slate . . . a fresh start and the first step of that new beginning is placed on a foundation of love, understanding, forgiveness, and encouragement. This smile is an art that there is no perfecting, because it is organic and comes naturally to its possessor.

Thailand is the land of “A” smile and it is a smile like no other.



Naam Jai . . .

I took a linguistics class in college and we spent weeks discussing the phenomena of language. We talked about and studied all of the different theories regarding the way in which language came about, how it’s learned, what it is about the innocent plasticity of a child’s mind that makes acquiring language easier than it is for adults, and on and on and on. I remember asking everyone I knew what they thought about it and getting into deep conversations and sometimes heated debates. As an English teacher of native speakers it was merely interesting, because by the time my students got to me the language was already ingrained in them, it came naturally. As an English teacher of Thai nationals it once again becomes not only fascinating, but important to deciphering what it is that makes a person cognitively understand language.

It was with this train of thought that I was struck by how much of a language cannot be directly translated or even understood in any manner, but contextually. A friend asked me the other day what the word for “naam jai” is in English and I fumbled for an explanation because we don’t have an English equivalent. So, I explained that directly translated it means “water heart,” but that an English speaking person wouldn’t know what that was referring to, or what it meant.

During my first three months of training my language teacher encouraged, begged, and pleaded that we attempt to break ourselves of the habit of directly translating, because while there are hundreds and thousands of words that have an equal counterpart, there are also hundreds and hundreds of them that are ideas, customs, and expressions which simply do not live within our American culture. I could not wrap my mind around the notion that there are aspects of this new and challenging language that absolutely have no correlation to English. We are all humans, our physiology is identical, our basic needs consist of the same things, we laugh, cry, bleed, and sweat the same and yet there is a limit to our ability to communicate.

I live in a country which parallels the west in few ways and yet I exist upon the western foundation of my 24 years. I study the language every day, I converse with my neighbors, friends, counterparts, and students in their native tongue; I participate in the culture and customs and slowly I begin to live the language in a way translations never allow. Small pieces of my American framework are extracted, like a risky game of Jumanji, but it never topples over because the vulnerable portions are quickly filled with a Thai concept, one which I never realized I had made my own until I understood that I lived the idea, accepted the idea, appreciated and approved of the idea, without ever giving it a western definition – I simply experienced it day after day after day until Naam Jai became a part of my makeup, one which cannot be defined.

I am still grappling with the idea that language is more conceptual than academic in most regards, and often find it hard to turn my Thai to English dictionary of brain off and just experience the language as I live it. “Naam Jai” means “water heart.” This means that our generosity, love, trust, support, strengths, and achievements should be fluid, easily washing back and forth from one life to the next. It’s a trading of favors, goods, and kindnesses from one family to another, from one neighbor to another, from one friend to another, from one heart to another. It’s the idea that nothing in this life is completely mine until everyone else possesses it as well. It’s the thought that taking care of others needs should always come before taking care of our own. And in this vein it becomes apparent that “water heart” just doesn’t cut it and that unless you witness the occurrence of “naam jai” everyday words are not significant enough to encompass a true and complete definition.



Wonderland of English Camp . . .

I know what you must be thinking, “wonderland of English camp??? What kind of title is that???” It’s equally disturbing and embarrassing to me, but let it illustrate something about Thai people. English Camps are supposed to be planned in equal proportions by the volunteer and counterpart; however this is rarely the case. The first thing that must be concurred is giving an English Camp a name. My ideas were things that reflected the theme, had lots of alliteration, or were straight forward and to the point . . . in all honesty is was about the last thing on earth I was willing to deem important when planning this thing. But, to a Thai person it’s the MOST important. Camps get called things like, beautiful English camp, lovely English camp, English is fun camp, happy English camp, amazing English camp, enjoy English camp – feel free to look up any of the adjectives provided for a more extensive list of potential English Camp titles. So, we come up with “wonderland of English camp” and I don’t argue because there are real things that need to be dealt with, and that is where the help ends. My counterpart got what she wanted and washed her hands of the rest of the planning. This is something that I am used to and really I am better at feeling like I am in complete control, so didn’t mind being left to it . . . and believe me when I say that the rest of the camp was a lot less cheesy.

It was a big enough camp that I was able to ask two additional volunteers to come and help out. My good friends, Bethany and Noelle wanted to see my site, get out of theirs, and were excited about putting on a good camp. Generally these camps are really frustrating because they take a lot of time and preparation for very little outcome . . . in other words, kids can’t learn a year’s worth of material in two days. So, instead of coming up with all new topics and trying to make the thing meaningful we had two days of games, snacks, lunches, and review. Each station, like at all camps, was in charge of teaching a specific topic and each topic was one we had covered throughout the year and I knew they would see on their final tests.

The whole thing was fabulous! We were on time or early, which is unheard of, the food was delicious, which is a rare treasure, the students were enthusiastic and excited, and the games were fun and completely entertaining time wasters. Usually I walk away from a weekend like this feeling like I need about a month of hibernation before a complete recovery, but it was fun and really rewarding and left me feeling ready for a third day.

The students too, were hoping for an extension at the close of the camp on Saturday, but I’m pretty sure that had nothing to do with their dedication to learning the English language and everything to do with the stickers! As a reward system each teacher had a pile of stickers with them at their station; when a student answered a particularly hard question, participated extra enthusiastically, or did something above and beyond they received a sticker. We were going to get prizes for the team that earned the most stickers and the three individual students earning the most, but they were so excited just to be getting them that we decided we didn’t need to.

It was hilarious, they were little fiends. Every single correct answer or example of good behavior was met with shrieks and pleas for stickers. They tried stealing the pages of them, they tried prying them from each other’s name tags, and they went absolutely nuts when they got one legitimately. At the end of the last session on Saturday we were just emptying the pages and handing them out at random and somehow a page of them ended up in the hands of some greedy little brats. Bethany walked past a huddle of kids who were shushing each other as she approached, thinking something suspicious was going on she entered the mess and found a bunch of sticker addicted kids applying the stolen morsels to their nametags. We needed a sticker IV!

I don’t know how much English they learned, but they all went home smiling and stickered up.

Virginia . . .

Alberto did it again. He promised that we would see each other again before I come home and he made it happen. In the middle of February he got me a plane ticket and flew me to Virginia, where he is completing the rest of his training. It was about this time that the weather decided to test my patience and went nuts. Only days before my plane was set to take off multiple feet of snow fell on Virginia and the DC area, threatening to delay if not cancel my flights. No need to worry, someone out there was looking out for me and I made it to the good U. S. of A. without a hitch.

Aside from Alberto, the first thing I saw when evacuating the airport was SNOW!!! I miss the cool weather in an unhealthy way. I wanted to throw myself at it, hug it, eat it, cry into it, and pack some of it to take back with me. I also quickly realized how long it had been since I lived in the states and how new and exciting things felt. I was like a giddy little kid, everything felt so special and extravagant to me that I just couldn’t get enough of any of it. My first night there we went to dinner and then headed to the base, where I was put up in a hotel. The next day Alberto had classes and so I was left to conquer some of my jetlag and get rested for the week. I didn’t do a whole lot of resting, it was too much fun to be home again and I couldn’t make my mind shut up.

We stayed another night on base and then moved hotels so we would be closer to DC, where we spent most of our time. When Alberto was here it was all about finding new foods, unique experiences, and showing him the ropes. This trip was opposite in that we went in search of all the things I miss and love most about living in the states. We ate great food, went to movies, walked the streets, slept in a fabulous bed, I took an actual bath, and understood every single channel on the T.V. It was amazing.

It also felt like exactly where I was meant to be. I had never before been to Virginia and the week I spent in DC was in a homeless shelter for an alternative spring break trip, so it wasn’t home . . . but it immediately felt like it. Alberto is home, America is home, cool weather and good food are home, and my family and friends are home. There were so many things that felt perfectly right, and when I reflected upon what it was that made me feel so strongly connected to a place I would spend 5 days the answer was obvious – when I have something on my mind no matter how trivial or profound my first reaction is to turn to Alberto and say it, when I am sad, lonely, or feeling blue I wrap myself in his embrace and don’t feel quite so vulnerable anymore, when I go to make a meal it is instinctual to ask what he wants, when I start to make plans my first question is always regarding what he thinks. My hands miss being held, my thoughts miss being listened to, and my heart misses his presence - I had it all back again for a few days and it felt like my “real life,” like what every day is supposed to feel like.

We didn’t do anything spectacular. We stayed in a nice hotel, ate great meals, watched entertaining movies, spent hours at a book store, talked, laughed, cuddled, and enjoyed being able to love each other in person again for a time. Five days in his arms was all it took.

When I got home I was surprisingly content. There weren’t a lot of tears or long days spent moping around wishing I never had to come back. I returned and I jumped right back into my life. I know now that this was because I had already made a huge decision and it felt good to not have the doubt, the worry, and the constant struggle looming over me anymore. Thailand is a beautiful place and the people I have encountered here are among the finest I have ever known. I love my little house (no matter how hot it gets), I cherish my time with my neighbors, my counterparts are genuinely good teachers and people, my students will always be some of my very favorite, and the friends I have made through Peace Corps will remain my friends forever, but there isn’t enough need for me here to warrant another whole year of my life.

I live five minutes from an American style coffee shop, my schools have the money and the means to hire a native English speaking teacher, my community is well off and has little need for a Farang except in the form of a mascot. Thailand just needs Peace Corps volunteers in a much smaller capacity than other Peace Corps countries do and I feel like I have done what I can for my community. So, I am going to finish up the projects I have in progress, spend one more term with my students and counterparts and then head home. I am in the middle of a reading and library program project that is going really well, I have been asked to develop a listening component to add to the current curriculum which I will finish in the next two months, I am going to paint my two world maps, hold a series of teacher trainings, and teach every single day of the next term. I have signed up for the GRE and will be taking it in April and am in the middle of applying for a graduate program for Library and Information Sciences. If all works out according to plan I will be heading back sometime at the beginning of November and will start school in the spring.

I feel nothing, but a sense of relief and excitement. This has been the experience o f a lifetime and the things I have to complete in my time remaining will be my legacy – students will have the materials necessary to continue their learning in an environment that fosters success and not fear, my counterparts speak the language and have the skills now to truly benefit their schools, and my community and I will always remain good friends. But, I am excited to get back to my life and I feel completely at peace with my decision. I have been a happier, easier going, and light hearted volunteer ever since I got back and that is because I am no longer carrying within me this huge debate. Attending school again is a major draw, but love was really the only one I needed . . . I’m ready to get back to my future.