Feeling Thankful

I wake up near midnight to a low blood sugar and a dark room. Outside there is the sound of rain dripping off the thatch and wind in the banana leaves. I can hear the creaking of bamboo as students turn in their sleep in the rooms around me, and a cool breeze comes through the gaps in the wall. I am warm and dry in my blankets, tucked warmly into my mosquito net, on my small mat on the floor. The rats are quiet tonight, perhaps they are snuggling together for warmth somewhere too, hiding from the rain. There is a little moonlight coming through the skylight in the roof. For awhile, I stay like that, taking it all in. Then, I reach beside me to light a candle. The circle of light only reinforces the coziness of the scene. I crunch on some sugar then dive into the bag of fresh rambutans. I peel away the red hairy shell and slip the sweet white flesh into my mouth. Somewhere out in the night, I hear the camp guards beating out signals to check in on the hour. Twelve taps – it must be midnight.

There are days when I am so exhausted I just want to sleep away a week. Days when I am frustrated and worried, nervous, trying to pull of a thousand feats that seem impossible. Days when nothing is going right, days when I just don’t care anymore. But then there are the moments that I am drowned in wonder. Days when I can’t stop smiling. Days that take my breath away. Days when I am sure I am going to wake up from this dream because I can’t believe that this is actually me doing this. I am twenty-three years old and I just opened the school year for a small but amazing school in a refugee camp on the border between Thailand and Burma. I somehow transported a handful of illegal students from all over the border past check points, security guards, deportation trucks and police just in time for the opening ceremonies on Tuesday morning. There they were: twenty students ready to change their lives. Twenty students looking at me and the staff and I wondered as I smiled at them and made my speech in front of the community, “Can I do it? Is this me?”

It’s rainy season in Thailand now and up in Umphium it is cold. The skies are almost always gray. The mist comes down off the mountains and into our rooms. Things never seem to dry, including my hair, my blankets, my clothes. But it’s breathtaking. The hills are an impossible bright shade of green, the sky a purpling dark gray, the wind brisk. Impossible not to feel alive and adventurous.

My actual adventures are not so noteworthy. In fact, I almost always work, which is why I haven’t been writing hardly at all. My apologies for the lack of emails and contact. I’m afraid that will continue for awhile as I teach full time during the week and try to hire a male teacher to replace the one I just lost, fund the school, understand a million tiny things that need to be done from budgeting to buying rice on the weekend. Thank you to all of you who write me such warm emails, send me your love and give me the support I need to get through all the hard times and keep me here. I am living out all my dreams, I am waking up in the morning smiling and I feel like the most fortunate woman in the world, so thank you.

Back in the Saddle

Well folks, it's been a long time, but here I am again on a sunny Saturday afternoon, sitting in my favorite internet cafe, typing away and watching time go by. Already today I have accomplished more than the average weekend morning. After sleeping in decadently late, I spoke with people who want to hire two of our graduates to come and work in their "leadership" school. Since they are reprentatives of one of the armed groups in the area, I suspect it is more of a propaganda school, but it is now my job to talk with them, keep on their good side, maintain relationships, send them interested graduates and give them my cell number in case they feel like chatting. Welcome back to Mae Sot, Jen.

After coffee, juicy mangoes and a swing in my hammock, I plug into my music and jump on my bike for a long meandering ride going nowhere in particular. I went out through the back of the market, to a small town nearby, then selected a random road to follow through the rice feilds and cow paddies. I stopped for water in a small store and "chatted" for awhile with the people there. The sun is full on my face, but there is a cool wind coming down off the mountains that are shrouded in rain clouds. Everything is green and bright and the sky in the distance is deep purple. I swerve to avoid hitting bright little lizards scuttling across the hot pavement. I pass feilds full of cows, and men squatting in the shade chewing betel nuts and watching them. I had forgotten what a beautiful country this is, and how lucky I am to live here.

I have emptied out the Thai bank account and finally have a ticket back to Canada for the wedding. I still have not gotten from Vancouver to Calgary, but I will work on that. I am flying Cathay Pacific, so even without a first class upgrade, the flight will be nice.

Itinerary:

1 CX 750S 24JUL SU BKKHKG HK1 1130 1510
2 CX 838S 24JUL SU HKGYVR HK1 1640 1330
3 CX 839S 05AUG FR YVRHKG HK1 1450 1905
4 CX 709S 06AUG SA HKGBKK HK1 2210 2350


As for work, well, I am sitting behind a desk. At least, that is what I have been doing all week. It helps that the desk is in a small office with three walls that are entirely windows, so that when I look up from my computer screen, document or book, I see palm trees, greenery and mountains in the distance.

Friday was entirely consumed with meetings. Some of them are fun and involve me making contact with all the community organizations that we work with, in this case an educational NGO who gives us funding. Other meetings, like the Consortium All Staff meeting, seem to drag endlessly on, reminding us all of the inverse function of number of people at meetings vs. actual productivity. Monday I shall be busy enough with my first teacher coming, training continuing of my counterpart (assistant) and a million things to do, as usual.

Enjoy your weekend!