Manu Chao - Me gustas tu
Shared via AddThis
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sawadee ka!!
I made it. Twenty two hours of airplane food and lines and boarding passes later and I'm here in Nichada Thani, Nonthuburi, Thailand. The first thing I noticed upon arriving were masks. Getting off the plane, it was evident that the majority of the people shuffling through the airport were either doctors who are taking their jobs way too seriously or bonafide germ-a-phobes. It's funny, I always think of Americans as being overly fearful about germs and disease, but we've got nothing on SE Asia. These people are ready to combat every swine that crosses their path. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was at the grocery store. The baggers wear roller skates. I used to be a bagger at Safeway when I was in high school. I quit that job after a couple of months. I would have stayed at least two months longer had I been on roller skates. Roller skates are efficient and fun. When the cashier needs a price check, the bagger just takes off on skates, checks the price, and shaves about a minute off his tennis-shoe-only time. I love this part of Thailand. Roller skates make everyone smile and these people sure do smile. I think I smile about 75% more here than I do at home so I guess it's rubbing off on me. When you can't speak a word of Thai, the smile strategy works like a gem. You smile, they come to your rescue. Seriously. The people here serve my foreign ignorance. Simple things that I am more than happy and able to do myself like open a car door or push my own shopping cart or find shade when the sun is out, all of these things have been done for me. Unfortunately, I could really get used to this which could spell disaster when I go back to the states and nobody notices or cares about me unless I'm in their way.
In an effort to save time and because I am sitting on my balcony dripping with sweat and a hot laptop is perched on my legs I will wrap this up with a list of observations about my three days living in Thailand.
1. Fruit here looks fake. I bought a dragon fruit. It looks like a hot pink boa on the outside and a spotted zebra on the inside. It was bland. Never judge a fruit by it's cover. Lesson learned.
2. This place is so peaceful that the army runs a nursery. All of the plants on my balcony were purchased on an army base. Nothing like picking out orchids while men in camouflage fire automatic weapons and smoke cigarettes. The army guys also picked up every plant for me and followed me around until I was done shopping, then loaded it into a truck, drove the truck to my apartment, and voila! I have a balcony full of tropical plantst. All this (10 potted plants and trees) for under $40. What the?! I'm never coming home.
3. There are minumum three layers of sweat and filth accumulated on my body every minute of every day.
SE Asia, I'm hooked...
In an effort to save time and because I am sitting on my balcony dripping with sweat and a hot laptop is perched on my legs I will wrap this up with a list of observations about my three days living in Thailand.
1. Fruit here looks fake. I bought a dragon fruit. It looks like a hot pink boa on the outside and a spotted zebra on the inside. It was bland. Never judge a fruit by it's cover. Lesson learned.
2. This place is so peaceful that the army runs a nursery. All of the plants on my balcony were purchased on an army base. Nothing like picking out orchids while men in camouflage fire automatic weapons and smoke cigarettes. The army guys also picked up every plant for me and followed me around until I was done shopping, then loaded it into a truck, drove the truck to my apartment, and voila! I have a balcony full of tropical plantst. All this (10 potted plants and trees) for under $40. What the?! I'm never coming home.
3. There are minumum three layers of sweat and filth accumulated on my body every minute of every day.
SE Asia, I'm hooked...
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Ode to Lucy
As anyone who knows me can attest to, I love my dog. As with most things in life, she has given me much more than I have given her. The first day I met her, I went to the Oregon Humane Society just to 'look'. I told myself I would wait until I had researched dog breeds and was prepared with some dog gear essentials; a bed, a leash, a doggy door, a water bowl. I had none of these things, so my trip was just to investigate and learn about adopting a dog. I now realize that once I stepped foot in OHS, it was all over, I would be a dog owner within hours...water bowl or not. It was inevitable. She was grinning from ear to ear. She was standing on her two hind legs, front paws on the cage in front of her, wagging her tail and barking incessantly for someone to give her attention. I fell in love the moment I saw her, and I'm a sucker for love. With her, I have had a lifetime worth of love and loyalty. She reminds me every day to enjoy the simple things that life gives us; a trail in the woods, squirrels, food, chewing up couches...She finds enjoyment every day no matter what. No matter what. If we could all be so lucky.
The hardest thing I'll ever do is say goodbye to her for two years. If crying makes you uncomfortable, you don't want to be around when I actually have to do this. I may cry for the entire 22 hour flight to Bangkok...and then some. But, I am comforted by knowing this; she will be loved after I'm gone (Michelle and Scott, you really are my saviors!). She will be surrounded by good people, her best buddy Bean, and lots of love. Lots of love...If we could all be so lucky.
Oda Al Perro
Vamos
hombre y perro reunidos
por la mañana verde,
por la incitante soledad vacía
en que sólo nosotros
existimos,
esta unidad de perro con rocío
y el poeta del bosque,
porque no existe el pájaro escondido,
ni la secreta flor,
sino trino y aroma
para dos compañeros,
para dos cazadores compañeros:
un mundo humedecido
por las destilaciones de la noche,
un túnel verde y luego
una pradera,
una ráfaga de aire anaranjado,
el susurro de las raíces,
la vida caminando,
respirando, creciendo,
y la antigua amistad,
la dicha
de ser perro y ser hombre
convertida
en un solo animal
que camina moviendo
seis patas
y una cola
con rocío.
-Neruda
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Things I Carry...
The movers came yesterday and did a weight/volume survey of my stuff that I'm shlepping over to Thailand. I am alloted 1500lbs to include in my shipment. I had no idea what that really meant in terms of number of boxes, etc. So I just filled Michelle and Scott's garage (Thanks guys! You are my saviors!) with all of my loot and hoped for the best. Tom, from Mayflower Transit, came over to do the survey. He was an energetic and cheery guy who used to be a secondary teacher in Wisconsin until moving to Portland where he fell into the moving business while waiting for an Oregon Teaching License to be issued (another casualty of TSPC). He has a soft spot for teachers, I know because he told me so. I liked Tom right away so I figured I could let him riffle through my personal belongings. He told me that I might want to consider including feminine hygiene products (i.e. tampons) in my shipment (they are hard to find in SE Asia). Despite the unexpected turn in conversation, I still felt at ease with Tom. He must have used the word feminine hygiene products at least 15 times in our conversation which seems like an awkwardly high number of times to talk about tampons. However, his tampon speech was done in such a fatherly way, Tom had won me over.
I had imagined him weighing all of my boxes with a giant scale. Instead of a scale, he used magic. Well, at least to my non-mathematical mind it looked like magic. He had a piece of paper in which he made tatch marks for each box. He then estimated the cubic feet of each box based on the size of the box and multiplied that number by 7lbs. It took him all of 15 minutes to estimate the amount of weight I had in 40 boxes. How is this possible? I kept wondering to myself. No scale, no scanner, he didn't even pick up a box...just asked me what was inside them. I am still skeptical of the accuracy. My final weight came in at 1,946lbs. I was over by 446lbs. Tom told me that he has this problem with most teachers. "You teachers are all alike" he said. "Books, you all have too many damn books, books are heavy like lead".
So now what? How do I shed some weight and lighten my load? Today, I went through each box again, and again I decided if I really needed the contents of these 40 boxes, the remnants of my life. Upon examining each object, I asked myself the following:
1. Have I used this in the past 6 months? (goodbye quesadilla maker!)
2. Will I need this in hot and humid Bangkok? (goodbye fleece jackets!)
3. Do I really want to read this heavy lead book again? (goodbye Holy Bible! Sorry mom..and God...okay never really read it in the first place)
Every now and again, I picked up an object that provoked feelings of loss. Reminders of people. People who were an important part of my life. People who are now gone. I found myself throwing these objects out quickly. Not sure if that's a healthy reaction; to detach completely, but it seemed to work for me. No object, no cry. Moving is much more than a physical chore. It's shedding your identity, which can feel like death and birth all at the same time.
I had imagined him weighing all of my boxes with a giant scale. Instead of a scale, he used magic. Well, at least to my non-mathematical mind it looked like magic. He had a piece of paper in which he made tatch marks for each box. He then estimated the cubic feet of each box based on the size of the box and multiplied that number by 7lbs. It took him all of 15 minutes to estimate the amount of weight I had in 40 boxes. How is this possible? I kept wondering to myself. No scale, no scanner, he didn't even pick up a box...just asked me what was inside them. I am still skeptical of the accuracy. My final weight came in at 1,946lbs. I was over by 446lbs. Tom told me that he has this problem with most teachers. "You teachers are all alike" he said. "Books, you all have too many damn books, books are heavy like lead".
So now what? How do I shed some weight and lighten my load? Today, I went through each box again, and again I decided if I really needed the contents of these 40 boxes, the remnants of my life. Upon examining each object, I asked myself the following:
1. Have I used this in the past 6 months? (goodbye quesadilla maker!)
2. Will I need this in hot and humid Bangkok? (goodbye fleece jackets!)
3. Do I really want to read this heavy lead book again? (goodbye Holy Bible! Sorry mom..and God...okay never really read it in the first place)
Every now and again, I picked up an object that provoked feelings of loss. Reminders of people. People who were an important part of my life. People who are now gone. I found myself throwing these objects out quickly. Not sure if that's a healthy reaction; to detach completely, but it seemed to work for me. No object, no cry. Moving is much more than a physical chore. It's shedding your identity, which can feel like death and birth all at the same time.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Buenos Dias
I shot this during the last week of school. There is nothing better than kids singing, except maybe kids laughing. I played chess with the cutie pie in the middle and she had me in check mate in under 10 moves. A humbling experience to add to a growing collection. The pure joy on her face when she realized that she had beat her teacher was priceless, she couldn't stop giggling. After I picked up my jaw, I managed to chuckle too. I heard once that children laugh over 300 times a day, adults manage to fit in about fifteen... make it 16 after this clip...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)