cresa meets east

Dream & Meditative State + A(wake)ning = 'That Peace Comes'

2011-08-31T20:06:00.000-07:00

Prior to last month I'd never meditated before in my life. I'd never even considered it, as I'm not a hippie, but when I found myself in the meditation capital of the world again (Chiang Mai, Thailand) with little to do for a week I said "Hey! Why not?" I'd heard the temples in Chiang Mai offer the best meditation courses, so I went to my favorite temple with caves, underground tunnels, massive stupas, and a stunning lake to see if they offered courses - and indeed they did! The eager monk told me to return the next day at 8am dressed in all white and with little attachments. I went clothes shopping and I had no vacuum cleaner, so figured I was all set.

I arrived the next morning and was trained in the discipline of Vipassana meditation (the Buddha's favorite) then was given the daily schedule which I was told to follow rigidly. The schedule looked something like this:

4am - Wake up

I stopped right there. Hold up, monk, you really expect me to wake up at 4am for the next 3 days? I'm not so sure this is for me, after all. He laughed and said that many foreigners had concerns about that portion of the schedule, but after the first day your body adjusts. What the heck, I'll give it a try.

OK, on with the rest of the schedule:

4:30am - Morning chanting

5am - Meditation

7am - Cleaning

Hold up, again. So you expect me to meditate for TWO HOURS right after I wake up at 4am?! And then clean the entire monastery? Again, this isn't for me, but fine, I'll give it a shot.

7:30am - Breakfast

8am - Relaxation

10am - Meditation

12pm - Lunch

12:30pm - Free time

2pm - Meditation

4pm - Relaxation

5pm - Dinner

5:30pm - Meditation

7pm - Evening chanting and monk chat

8pm - Lights out

For a person who typically goes to bed around 3am and wakes up around 10am I knew this was going to be a massive challenge, but I'm all about enlightening myself and whatnot, so here goes.

During the first meditation at 10am on the first day the monk approaches me midway through my session and asks if I'm having a problem meditating.

"No," I say, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you appear to be sleeping," he responds.

"I wasn't sleeping, I was meditating," I reply.

"Well, meditation does not require snoring," he states.

"Oh, well isn't meditation just a form of sleeping upright?" I ask.

"Unfortunately not, sister." he replies.

Now understanding what meditation isn't, I set off to discover what meditation is.

I proceed through the remainder of the day with ease (and a bit of drowsiness), but manage to do everything else seemingly correct.

In the evening we arrive at the monk chat, the final agenda item before bed time, and have a revealing discussion with the lead monk teacher on issues such as transcendentalism, prophecies, asceticism, breathing, attachment, and the works. All the day's efforts and this Buddha talk had drained me of energy and I was ready for dinner. I ask the monk where we'll meet for dinner, and he explains that monks and novices practicing meditation only eat two meals per day. I feign acceptance, but in the back of my mind I just wanted this conversation to end so that I could start scheming my escape to the nearby fried rice buffet.

Just as monk chat ended and the pupils began exiting the temple, the skies opened as never before seen. There was no way that I could sneak out and grab a bite, so I just went back to my room, read a few lines from the book "What Your Poo Says About You" and was fast asleep by 8:15pm.

10 minutes later I hear a knock on my door, look down at my phone, and realize it's 4am already! I jump up, put my white suit on, and head to morning chant. Following the chant I go to the lake to meditate and watch the sunrise, but am interrupted by the same monk teacher asking me if I'm having problems meditating. Aw heck! I was asleep again. My bad, monk. I down some of his coffee and continue with my meditation.

In theory, when one meditates your mind should be clear of all thoughts, expectations, worries, obstructions, etc. But instead, my mind was full of to-do lists, as I was on a work trip that had been postponed and had much more work to do the following week in Vietnam. During this particular meditative moment as I was going through my Vietnam checklist I realized that I'd failed to do Step 1: Secure a visa. Holy shit!

I ran to the abbot's office and begged him to use his computer so that I could Google Map the nearest Vietnamese embassy, and explained to the abbot that I was going to Vietnam the following week and had forgotten to secure my visa. Luckily when I got online I realized that I was able to apply for a visa-on-arrival, which I did at that time and received the following day. But that part I didn't explain to the abbot. I told him that I was very sorry, but that I would have to leave the meditation retreat, as I had to get on the next flight to Bangkok where the nearest Vietnamese embassy was. In truth, I just wanted to sleep on something other than a concrete floor and straw mat, and eat something more than gourd floating in yellowish broth.

PEACE OUT, MONK!

Since then, I've spoken to several friends who practice meditation independently and have begun a solo journey which is working out for me much better than the retreat/course did. Occasionally I'll even catch myself in states where I'm not sure if I'm awake, asleep, dreaming or meditating, because they're all such integral parts of my life now.

Just this morning I was in bed and remembered that I didn't have a visa for my next trip this weekend, then I realized I was just having a bad dream. Or was I meditating, as visa issues cropping up during meditative states aren't unheard of for me, clearly. Regardless, I 'woke up' to realize that I do, actually, have my visa and it was just pre-departure paranoia creeping in.

I love meditation and how it's enhanced my Christian spiritual journey so much that I'm going to study Transpersonal Psychology in graduate school next year. TP is the integration of spirituality with psychology, and since I've been working with CPI I've been interested in focusing more on this as I work with many psychologically disturbed survivors of landmines and UXO in Southeast Asia, and also have grown more spiritually inclined. I feel comfortable with this life dream and plan, and know that somehow through it all:

'...that peace comes' - Devendra Banhardt (Watch the video!)

(dis)Organized Crime: Lao Style

2011-08-30T01:05:00.000-07:00

Every expat who lives in Laos has difficulty expressing just how unique it is to live in this country. Weird, counter-intuitive, disjointed, baffling, confounding, unsettling, and mysterious are all descriptions that get close to illuminating the state of affairs here, but somehow words just don't do it justice. But I've found that, occasionally, anecdotes can shed light on the complexities of residing in this wonderful nation. Here are a couple from the past few days.

On Saturday after my birthday party I was riding home and realized the dimsum/noodle shop near my apartment was open, which was strange considering it was 4am and they usually close at 9pm. I walk in with some friends and am met by about 15 rowdy but gracious Lao men who offer us seats at their table on the sidewalk. The men happen to all be extremely well dressed, good looking and in possession of a gaggle of exorbitantly expensive cars - specifically an Audi, a Lamborghini, and a Hummer, which is extremely strange for Laos, as there are only like 3 paved roads in town on which you can go about 20mph. Whatever, to each their own.

So I start speaking to the men in Lao language and ask whose Lamborghini it is, and one of the men (the most handsome, in my opinion) raises his hand and claims ownership. In my head I confused the word for girlfriend and wife, so instead of then asking the man if he had a girlfriend, I asked him if he had a wife. He said no, then I asked him if he wanted one. A 4am intoxicated joke, clearly. The man proceeds to claim me as his wife and beckons me into the Lamborghini, which of course I decline, but without first letting him pay for our meals. We exchange numbers and he and his posse drive away leaving us all baffled about their quick departure. One of the owners of the dimsum shop then explains that the men are part of the Lao mafia and had woken up her family to demand that they open the Pho shop for them following their big night out. Ah ha, now the fancy cars in a nation where the average person makes $1/day makes sense. Since then I haven't heard from my husband (?), but I'm pretty sure that him asking me to be his wife and paying for my meal means that we'll be bound by common law forever. In Laos, at least. Feel free to send gifts from our registry at the local impound lot or wherever the mafia confiscates vehicles and belongings of the departed.

Fast forward to today. I've been apartment hunting for the past few weeks and this morning drove by an apartment that appeared to be exactly what I was looking for so stopped to take a closer look. A Lao man who was asleep in the garage asked me if I lived in the apartment building, and I explained that I didn't, but was interested in checking it out. I asked him if he worked at the apartment building (perhaps as a security guard?) and he said no, that he just sleeps on the floor of the garage because it's cooler than anywhere else on the block. Hmm, ok. Maybe this isn't the kind of place I'm looking for then. But before I can say or do anything, he explains that he will help me, then takes the spare helmet in the basket of my motorbike, puts it on, and hops on the back of my bike and starts screaming directions at me. "BAI SEU! LAEW LIAW KHWAH. SEU SUE NOI NEUNG...!!!" So naturally, I start following his directions.

After about a 10 minute drive we turn up at a large beautiful house that's under construction. There are about 10 Lao men working on the house and he explains that they're his brothers and they are renovating this colonial house with the hopes that a foreigner will want to rent it. I ask him how much and he says $500, which is how much I'd previously told him I wanted to pay for a 1 bedroom apartment. He takes me on the tour of the house which is absolutely stunning - 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, hardwood floors, gorgeously manicured garden/lawn, 2 verandas, etc etc. He then puts me on the phone with a woman who speaks English - his mother - who explains that the house is mine for $500 plus she'd take me to any store in Laos or Thailand and buy me any furniture that I wanted to furnish the house with. I think I shit in my pants. I sealed the deal with her and will move in when the construction is finished in 2 weeks.

I drove Mr. Sah back to his cool resting spot in the garage and asked him if there was any way I could compensate him. He requested that after I move into the house I buy him a can of beer and bring it to him in the garage.

High on life, I'm driving back to my apartment and as I'm making the last left turn I realize that the straight ahead turn signal is green but the left turn signal is red. Apparently I noticed this too late because a police officer pulls me over and explains in Lao language that I was too far in the middle of the road prior to my turn, at least that's what I think he said. I explain to him that that's not actually an offense, I hadn't actually turned, that I was just preparing to, but he wouldn't budge from his position. He demanded I give him 50,000 kip (~$6) and he would let me go. I knew this money would go directly into his pocket, and being the crusader against corruption at the government level that I am, I refused to pay him, and insisted that he write me a ticket and that I would pay it directly at the police station. At that point he got another colleague involved (who also didn't speak English) presumably to convince/coerce me into paying them and, again, I refused even though I had no idea what I was refusing by that point. After debating the topic for 30 minutes in the blazing sun we finally reached a deal: 15,000 kip (~$2) and a can of beer (see a pattern forming?) to each of them. With a huge sense of accomplishment I hopped back onto my motorcycle and drove off, only later realizing that I was driving down a one-way street against traffic without my helmet on (huge offense!) in front of my same police friends. They just smiled and cheers'ed their newly acquired Beer Laos in the air to me.

One time for the Lao People's Democratic Republic!

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!

2011-08-29T07:42:00.000-07:00

After the hectic truck ride through the mountains (see previous post), all I wanted to do was get back to the guest house and take a nice, long, relaxing shower. I remembered that I'd forgotten to pack soap, so I went to the local Burmese market to pick some up. All the soap was written in Thai, Burmese or Chinese, so I just went for the one that smelled the best - an herbal scented bar with Chinese writing.

I went home, hopped in the shower, lathered up, and was overwhelmed by the incredibly luxurious texture of the soap - it literally felt as if I was bathing in silk. When I got out of the shower, my skin was smoother and more conditioned than it had ever been in my life.

The next morning I showered again with the soap, but this time noticed that once I'd rinsed the suds off, there was still a bit of a grimy film left behind. Who cares, more skin conditioning. I left my guest house and as I was walking down the street a dog came up to me and started licking my shins like it was his business. That had never happened before, but I just figured the dogs in Mae Sot were hungrier than those in other small border towns.

A few more minutes down the street and I was sweating uncontrollably, more than I ever had in my life. And it wasn't that hot out. When I went to wipe the sweat from my brow, I realized that the droplets on my forehead were extremely oily. Hmm.

When I arrived back in the guest house later that afternoon I took off my clothes to cool down and noticed large grease stains on my shirt and pants. Now this is just bizarre! I looked at my body and realized that a few small spots had appeared that seemed to look like blackheads, which one typically gets from clogged pores.

I figured all of this was related to the soap, as I'd never had any of these reactions previously, so I took the bar of soap and the box it came in to the manager of the guest house who spoke Chinese and asked him to read me the ingredients on the box. He said there was one ingredient: unsalted butter. For two days I had been bathing in butter.

I Can't Believe It IS Butter!

How am I still alive?: A self-practice guide on dying in Southeast Asia.

2011-08-04T08:38:00.000-07:00

I took a survey a while back about expat living in Southeast Asia and one of the questions was, "What is the best and worst part about your life abroad?" I had the same answer to both of these questions: my proximity to death. There's nothing like being surrounded by death to make you feel, well, alive. And in Asia there's no shortage of encounters and reminders of death. Whether it's passing a passed-on elderly person lying on their front porch for the neighbors to come pay respects to, or a dead body in the middle of the road post-motorcycle accident, the 'other side' is ever-present.

But until recently I hadn't had to contemplate my own death. Yea I have life insurance, but I'd always thought that was more for my family's/company's peace of mind than anything else. Lately, though, I've had a few encounters that I feel like have brought me closer to the edge of death than ever before, at least in my mind.

Doing work in landmine/UXO action, you constantly hear about casualties involving explosions, and they're often harrowing stories that impact you to the core, but rarely actually manifest in your reality. Even when I go on site visits those realities seem distant. But lately I've been challenged in that respect. I've picked up display bombs out of curiosity only later to realize that they hadn't been diffused. I've walked through rice paddies and corn fields where only days prior there had been an explosion that left someone maimed or dead. Don't get me wrong, the people I travel and work with only have my safety at heart and the chance of me actually being involved in an accident is nearly non-existent (knock on wood), but it's the closeness that alarms.

And then there was today. When I first moved to Thailand 3 years ago and began to learn how to drive a motorcycle I felt like I was going to kill myself and everyone on the road with every step on the pedal, but soon that too passed as I began to navigate the streets with more ease. Generally my fear of road death had subsided, until today.

On my way back from a site visit on the Thailand/Burma border I opted to hop into a pick-up truck, as I didn't want to inconvenience my friendly hosts who were driving me 3 hours out of the way of their home. The drive started out peacefully enough, with sweeping views of rice paddies.

Then I realized that the truck was driving a bit out of control, and looked through the window to see the driver pounding a bottle of what appeared to be liquor. Alright, so I'm driving through the plains in a slightly rambunctious truck being driven by a drunk man - no big deal. Think again. The landscape quickly changes from farmland to steep mountains and we're being hurled around cliffs at ungodly speeds.

OK, no big deal again, there are guard rails. Nope. The guard rails all seem to end at the most crucial points (hairpin curves, foggy sections, areas where there's a 300 ft drop, etc etc).

We whip around one of these hairpin curves going about 70 mph in a foggy section that clears just in time to see that there's one of these 300 ft drops that we're headed straight into. I try to stay calm, but all the Burmese people that I'm in the truck with start screaming at the top of their lungs in Burmese what I can only imagine translates into "HELP! WE'RE ABOUT TO DIE! BUDDHA WHERE ARE YOU WHEN WE NEED YOU?" and the like. I only know 3 words in Burmese - "lay peh thoke," which means "tea leaf salad." So I start screaming that in an attempt at solidarity. But at least I wasn't the one who was throwing up:

Miraculously we came out of that curve - and hundreds more - unscathed, and praise be to Jesus that I'm back home safely and here to write about it. Moral of the story, next time you're feeling a bit lifeless, trying skipping through a minefield* or hopping into a mountain-bound pick-up truck with a drunk driver* to give you some spunk and make you appreciate what you have.

Cresa

*Please don't do this!

tackling burma pt. 2 (steady goes it)

2010-12-11T06:57:00.000-08:00

view of shwedagon pagoda from the exterior

monks and money

"foot wearing prohibited"!

a kid in a bowtie (!) posing with the generator, burma's only source of legal power

street view of men in longyis (skirt-type garments)

tackling burma

2010-12-09T03:02:00.001-08:00

i've had a great deal of anxiety thinking about how to present my story of burma while properly maintaining the complexity, integrity, and beauty of the country. she is so dynamic that words just don't suffice. so with that said, since a word is indeed worth a thousand pictures, i present to you The Word: Burma...and approximately a thousand pictures (56 to be exact).

###

reading my favorite paper (IHT) in my favorite pub (50th st)

having posek with cousin fred in a typical burmese tea shop

intercepting vibes from katie ad and cousin fred

after running the hash as a newbie

fabulous comeuppance pt. 2

2010-12-07T03:26:00.001-08:00

i'm not ready to tackle the story of my time in burma yet, so i'll skip to the pseudo present:

*i left, or rather escaped, from burma in september of this year. i returned home to visit with my mother, family, friends and fergi the pomeranian in nashville, tn and reconnect to the home that once was. after the first week of being there i was officially offered the job with clear path international (www.cpi.org), so knew that my time in the states was dated. so i spent lots of time talking, laughing and watching dancing with the stars with mom, visiting my aunts and cousins in atlanta playing table tennis and playstation, catching up on my nearly two years without microbrews, and fighting jetlag. it was a phenomenal.

*then i was back to asia. i stopped through bangkok to visit my boyfriend peter for a few days, getting reacquainted with the thai lifestyle. after a couple of days, i jetsetted to vientiane, laos, my new home. i'd never been to laos before, but was told by many friends i knew from thailand who'd gone there before that the only reason to go was to get a new visa for thailand. i can't speak for the rest of laos, but vientiane (the capital, where i now call home base) has brought me to levels of boredom and near depression previously thought unfathomable. for those of you who know me well, you know that i'm fairly adaptable. i rarely complain about my condition and am usually able to make the best out of any situation, no matter how grave. but laos has/is doing me in. granted, i've only been there for a month, but in that month i've had little work (starting an NGO in a new place is slow tedious work in the beginning); no family; no internet; and most importantly/shockingly, no friends. and if you don't have work, family, internet and friends - what's the purpose of living? there is none. so the answer to alleviating my sorrows in vientiane is, simply, to not be in vientiane. travel. travel as much as i can. travel so much that i'm so tired of traveling that i welcome the work-family-internet-friend blackhole that is vientiane. with that said, i know that other parts of laos are far more intriguing than vientiane, so i do plan to spend a fair amount of time doing other regions justice. so with that, here's my plan for the next couple of months:

Dec 4-16: Cambodia (Phnom Penh, Kep, Kampot, Sihanoukville, Battambang, Kamrieng)
Dec 16-22: Vientiane
Dec 22-25: Chiang Mai
Dec 25-Jan 2: Cambodia
Jan 2-12: Vientiane
Jan 12-Feb 5: Thailand and Burma
Feb 5-14: Traipsing with a friend throughout Who-Knows-Where-Land, SE Asia

*but in during my last month of solitary confinement, there has been an oyster. a mighty, pearly one at that. i've had time to reflect on where my path has lead and realize that, now that i'm now officially working in the field of international development, i've found my calling. and i've also realized that my self-deprecating tendencies of second guessing my own abilities needs to stop. so with that, i've enrolled in a harvard economics distance program with the hopes of passing this level and enrolling full time into the kennedy school or london school of economics (or school of oriental and asian studies) masters in public policy/administration in international development program within the next two years.

*i'm currently on my first leg of my work site visit/anti-death boredom trip - in phnom penh, cambodia. this, i've decided, is my favorite city in the world. there's literally no other place where i'm constantly having my heart broken (4 year old prostitutes; remnants of contemporary genocide at every corner), nor my heart ignited (random street people wanting to shake your hand because of you believe in the prosperity of their country; 80 year old blind blues singers who survived the war by making music that even the killing forces couldn't resist). i've never had such amazing food in my life. and i've never been so sick after eating food that had apparently been contaminated with insects (i only found this out because when i ran to the bathroom after the initial onset of symptoms what came out in the toilet was chocked full of small bugs). my heart rests here. and here: Cambodia Living Arts

yes, that's a picture of tree roots that looks like a person's bare ass

yes, that's a picture of the most beautiful child in cambodia standing in front of angkor wat

yes, that's a picture of skulls exhumed from mass graves following the khmer rouge genocide

and yes, that's a picture of a plate of rice shaped like a teddy bear

fabulous comeuppance

2010-12-07T02:27:00.000-08:00

a retrospective glance at life since my last update:

*i stayed in chiang mai, thailand until march 2010 teaching english and working for a burmese education non-profit organization. after having been there for more than 18 months, i started to feel like i was losing sight of my purpose. i'd originally gone to thailand in an effort to figure out what the hell i wanted to do with my life - teach english? health professional? anthropologist? masters student?!?! i met many amazing people, made loads of beautiful friends, ate some incredible food, was blown away by larger-than-life landscapes...but at the end of the day, i was not any closer to realizing my destiny than i was when i first stepped off the plane in 2008.

i'd decided it might be time for me to return to the U.S. - not totally a failure, but with a sense of defeat that i wasn't quite comfortable with. then something amazing happened. a group that i was volunteering with asked me if i would come to their office, because they wanted to introduce me to a couple of people. they would often ask me to come by to meet their songwriter friends to help them edit their songs that they wanted to perform in english; or teach their friends who wanted to open a restaurant catering to tourists how to make western food. so figuring this was another one of those scenarios, i gladly threw on a pair of cut-off shorts and a halter top, hopped on my motorbike and headed over to the office.

when i arrived, i was greeted by two american women, who were introduced to me as the leadership team of clear

path international, an international ngo that supports victims of landmines. they were the primary funders of this organization that i was volunteering with and had asked the group if they knew anyone who would like to help them out with some of their projects in se asia. apparently i fit the bill, but as they scanned me up and down - with my backpacker attire and empty-handed (no CV, or even a pen), i feared they had doubts. but then again, so did i. of course i wouldn't want to interview and be considered for a job that would keep me in asia. i'd already failed at developing a strategic plan for myself, and had wasted two years of my life in the process. screw you guys, i'm going home. or so i thought.

over the next few hours i spent chatting with these brilliant, compassionate women i was won over by their stories and hopes for the organization. i found myself then praying that they would accept me into their ranks. ah, but money. they didn't have a budget to fund my position, so told me that they would try to secure some grant money to bring me on, but in the time being just to hang out

a little while and just wait. yea, sure. i live in freaking asia, how many times had i heard that before? from tuk tuk drivers telling me that their vehicle was tired and i needed to just wait a little while...4 hours later we're still stuck in the middle of the jungle with hungry, fanged beasts scurrying around our feet. or the restaurant owner telling me that my dish will be out soon, just wait a little while. 2 hours later i'm passed out in the floor in a near diabetic fit. hellz no, i don't wait for anyone in asia anymore. but they persisted, and 7 months later, i received an email informing me that they'd received funding for my position, and they wanted me to start working immediately. so with that, i bid thailand and all my gorgeous memories farewell, for the time being. holla!

*during that 7 month period after thailand i lived in burma, an experience i'll cover in subsequent blogs. i'm realizing i'm a much better blogger when i write about the events retrospectively, after i've had time to reflect and see how things were actually pieced together through the end.

a good day

2009-11-18T11:04:00.000-08:00

i've been extremely reticent to update this blog lately. the idea of living "abroad" is often synonymous with exoticism, newness and trailblazing that leads one to the greater depths of incite, self-awareness, and unbridled epiphanies. and while my time in thailand has, at one point or another, inspired such moments of awakening, after living here for now a year, that kind of stuff has taken a backseat to the realities of everyday life...laundry, lesson plans, seasonal colds, etc. so out of the fear of imposing boredom on anyone who might happen across this page, and fear of disappointing those who were curious to know what was going on in my "wild & crazy" life, i've consistently opted for the silent treatment.

but today, i had a really good day. in fact, i could characterize most of my days as really good. but there's something about this day that made me realize that i miss sharing those mundane details of my life that, collectively, are a greater testament to my current situation than any transcendental story ever could be. so without further explanation, this is what's really up in my life...

i woke up at 6 something this morning in a coughing fit. unable to fall back asleep i hopped online and the first thing that caught my eye was an article proclaiming that, contrary to popular speculation, the world is not about to end. fast-forward a few clicks...and for the next hour i'm captivated by Orson Welles' The War of the Worlds. i close my computer, humored and cough-free. i fall back asleep for a few more hours, wake up, shower, have my favorite morning meal (corn rice porridge) and set off to my first class - a volunteer lesson with a group of people from myanmar. this is always a refreshing, uplifting class because these students have fled from their homes, left their families behind, and come to thailand to gain skills that they may, one day, take back to their countries to empower those left behind...unlike the majority of my students who are just rich brats whose parents want them to learn english for the sole purpose of getting into the best international schools or making more money for the family business.

after a great lesson, i headed to a volunteer meeting with an organization that i'm now working for...my newest job is to recruit teachers to serve in myanmar, a daunting but important responsibility that gives me a renewed sense of purpose here everyday.

following that meeting, i drove to the opposite end of the city on a near empty tank of gas (this detail will be important later) to a private teaching lesson. my student? one of the aforementioned privileged brats who mock my very existence as a teacher. i arrive to class, ready to teach the same dull grammar points i'm accustomed to, but to my surprise, she's holding a dr. seuss book and asks if we can take turns reading. we spend the next hour reading "the sneetches" stories...and by the end of the lesson we're sprawled out on beanbags leaning on one another's shoulders laughing, making funny sounds and voices to imitate the characters, and working on the pronunciation of many of dr. seuss many important make-believe words. by far the most brilliant lesson i've had with this stubborn little brat yet.

i leave the school, and on my way home, still on empty, i stop at the gas station, the workplace of my biggest, and only, crush. for all that thailand has blessed me with in the past year, it has failed to provide my with any leads in the love department. thus, i have been resigned to having fleeting crushes on various service workers: a 7-11 employee here, a food cart sous chef there, and now...a gas station attendant. our conversation, in what broken thai i'm capable of muttering, went a little like this:

me: hello

him: hello. what kind of gas?

me: 95 octane, please.

him: how much?

me: 100 baht.

him: so, have you had dinner yet? (contrary to what this might translate to in a western context, this is merely a polite greeting in thailand. he was not, unfortunately, asking me out to dinner.)

me: no. i'm very hungry. and you?

him: yes. i had rice.

me: thank you.

him: thank you.

at this point, his eyes light up in a manner that can only imply that he's smiling. unfortunately, because of the nature of his work, he must constantly wear a surgical mask so i never actually know if he's smiling, or for that matter, i don't actually know what his entire face looks like...but...i'm pretty sure it bears a smile when we chat. so i drive off and he waves, and with butterflies in my stomach, i forge ahead until the next time i'm low on 95 octane.

next i meet some friends for mexican and maragaritas...festive times as usual with great friends.

then two of my gay male friends and i head to a new gay bar/entertainment venue where we watch gay boys and transsexuals do stimulating renditions of Dreamgirls, Cher and, of course, Akon. for me the show was entertaining, but for them it renewed for them a sense that gay pride is alive in a town that is seemingly open to, but also skeptical of, queer lifestyles. and seeing them embracing and living this moment without fear of judgment or shame made me all the more happy to share the experience with them.

after the show i dropped my friend off and, on my way home, passed by a little bar that i'd only been to once but had impressed me more than any other bar in chiang mai because of the amazing live music and laid back atmosphere that many bars here fall short of actually maintaining. i rarely go places alone, especially bars, but as i drove by, the owner of the bar waved at me so i decided to pop in for a nightcap. as i approached the door, there was a man who i'd never seen before sitting behind the sound booth strumming a guitar, yelling in thai to the delight of the 50 or so patrons. as i step up from the sidewalk into the bar he points to me and instructs me to join him in the sound booth. i quickly grab a seat in an effort to avoid the attention and embarrassment of a public display. unfortunately being one of maybe 3 black girls permanently residing in chiang mai, everyone thinks that i'm a soul or r&b singer, so i was forced into the booth by a mob of excited thai strangers in need of a good tune. but for anyone who knows me, you know that my inability to carry a tune is my ultimate downfall, and my retention of popular song lyrics is even moreso. but against my will i enter the booth. i try to explain to the guy that i can't sing and don't know any songs, but he says the chocolate lady must just be acting shy, so he starts playing a melody. to my surprise, he's playing "The Show", by Lenka, a song i only know because my annoyingly bratty student i mentioned earlier is obsessed with that song and insists that we start every class with a sing-a-long of it. over the months i'd grown to hate the song because of its redundancy and cutesiness being drilled into my head day in and day out. but tonight, this song saved my life. with confidence i belted out the song on the mic to a raucous response from the crowd, which thankfully masked my sporadic tone deafness. i then sat down with the owner of the bar, chatted for a while about his new business ventures, and did a few magic tricks with him.

as i drove home, i reflected on the events of the day and couldn't help but smile about my life here. as boring, mundane, or uneventful as it may be to some, i think i've carved out a good space for myself in this place, and it's days like this which make it hard to think about uprooting. big or small, profound or not, it's always a good day and a good life here.

People's Socialist Republic of Thailand

2009-05-25T10:40:00.000-07:00

thailand's political structure is officially a constitutional monarchy/parliamentary democracy. but anyone who's ever visited and/or lived in thailand and spent any time outside of bangkok and the southern resorts has undoubtedly realized that this country functions under a more socialist guise than anything.

i came to this conclusion after several encounters, all related to money. my musings about the socialist nature of thailand began when i got my nose here pierced for 20 baht (about 60 cents in the U.S.), which included the jewelry. until that point i had never considered getting a nose piercing, but i was bored one afternoon and it seemed like a good deal. the thing is-thailand is full of good deals. but when you look closely, you realize that what you're witnessing is not a deal in the sense that we perceive of it in the West. no, it's sharing, it's fairness, it's honesty, it's wealth aversion...it's fiscal socialism. since then i've had countless 20 baht (60 cents) meals, 100 baht ($3) tire replacements, a maid who gets paid 200 baht ($6) to clean our 3 bedroom house, dozens of refusals to accept tips, and a store clerk who chased me 3 blocks on foot in 100+ degree heat while i drove away on my motorcycle to give me 3 baht (9 cents) that she overcharged me for a 2-course 17 baht (51 cents) lunch. this isn't cheap...again, it's socialism.

the majority of thai people are hard-working individuals who value kindness, fairness and equality. it might be genetic, or have something to do with thailand being a buddhist country and most people abiding by the laws of karma...but regardless of why, the fact is most people do not indulge in cheating, stealing, thwarting, over-charging, taking advantage, deceiving, outdoing, or lying (unless you consider ghreng jai to be lying out of benevolence and respect).

point being, the thais are good people who do good things. they want everyone to be happy and prosperous, so sharing and fairness is a natural extension of that philosophy. if a meal costs a cook 15 baht to make, they charge 20 to cover their expenses and have some left over to take care of their family. you don't consider your profit margin; you just want to make ends meet. i'd say 80% of thai people live in this manner. i reckon the other 20% is split evenly between the financially disenfranchised and the privileged...all others are equal, in terms of their wealth. as such, the disparity in wealth is marginal.

as a result, their is a sense of commonality here in thailand unlike anywhere else i've lived (especially south africa and boulder colorado, where the disproportionate distribution of wealth is sickeningly blatant and, to some degree, lauded). but when there is a discrepancy in wealth in thailand, it is often solved by income sharing, where a group of people will pool their income and distribute it evenly over the course of several years so that no one goes without necessities.

many might disagree with my people's socialist theory, so i remind you that this is only one person's skewed view of a culture that i've only been acquainted with for roughly 7 months. further, this is no anti-capitalist, liberal decree - it's merely my mind wanting to explain/justify a set of common observations. i do, afterall, understand the concepts of gouging, interest, competition, inflation, profit, etc...but while i understand it, i don't always agree with it. what i do agree with is fairness, justness and health. and that, in a nutshell, is why i never want to leave thailand.

honk if you love buddha

2009-03-27T04:26:00.000-07:00

i realize an update is way overdue, but please give me an opportunity to explain myself:

when i first arrived in thailand, i had no idea what to expect and held very few expectations, so as not to be disappointed. nevertheless, i was shocked when i arrived. but it wasn't culture shock that i was experiencing so much as a shock from the lack of (culture) shock. things were too easy. aside from not speaking thai (which isn't a problem here because every thai person knows at least 'nit noi' English), i encountered very few differences. yea, you might have a squatter instead of a toilet sometimes, and you have to get used to constantly being confronted by unique smells...but that's about it. i figured i would get here and be blown away by the difference, so that lack of that experience dealt me somewhat of a blow. i wanted exotic, exciting, inspiring, life changing, adventurous, surreal. but what i was met with was just a more humid version of home.

but about 2 months ago i realized that if change and difference is what i want, then - as cheesy and cliche as this sounds - it has to come from within. i started looking at things differently, embracing more and ignoring less, being creative, learning Thai, bought a motorcycle, and all around just opening myself up to the new potential for new experiences that drove me here in the first place. with this mindshift my world became bigger. and i can truly say that, as it were, i've never been happier in my life. i keep reminding myself that we all get jaded at times, and that's ok, but it's up to ourselves to actively combat such a mindset less it become a lifeset.

so basically, my silence over the last couple of months was merely just a pause in an attempt to sort out my heart and better understand my story so that i could share it with you.

and with that, i leave you with an absurd video from my last teaching experience at a nursing college.

love & bless,
cresa

rock climbing: woes and whoa!'s

2009-01-04T04:22:00.000-08:00

feeling a bit underadventurous recently in my role as english teacher, i decided to shake things up a bit today and go rock climbing. i'd heard that thailand's offerings have developed a strong reputation throughout the international climbing community so i figured i'd see what all the buzz was about.

a bit of personal background:
(1) i have no prior rock climbing experience. i'd been indoor bouldering a couple of times when i lived in colorado, but the landscape, techniques, courses, gear, etc. are unique to each sport.
(2) i don't particularly enjoy heights. i'm far from being acrophobic, but very seldom do i voluntarily find myself in situations hundreds of feet above ground with only a rope and a man with whom i can barely communicate keeping me alive.
(3) i think nature is cute. onward...

i arrive at the rock climbing center at 8:15 a.m. and pile into the back of a pick-up truck with several other eager climbers. after a beautiful drive through the mountains and rice paddies we arrive at crazy horse buttress. we unpack our gear and proceed to prepare both mentally and physically for what's ahead of us today. i find a quiet spot on a nearby rock to visually map out the easiest courses while attempting to achieve the perfect equilibrium of hydration and energy with a bottle of water and cashews. i check and double check the security of my harness, helmet, shoes, belay devices, etc. i peak over at my instructor/guide to see how his own preparation ritual is going - he's scurrying up the face of the mountain setting the route with his bare feet, no helmet, and chain smoking a pack of marlboro reds. where did i go wrong?

we set off on our great adventure and i can honestly say that i've never in such a short period of time experienced so many incredibly exhilarating highs and, conversely, so many utterly death-defying, gut-wrenching lows. or, what i would like to refer to as my woes and whoa!'s:

whoa! - unabandoned, uninhibited, blissfully explicit exposure to nature. you're dangling...literally floating in the middle of nature. no people, traffic, smog, waste. nothing but the mountain, the trees, the birds, and the wind surround you. and the breathtaking view that is your reward for reaching the top.
woe - as you're climbing, sticking your hand into a crevice of the mountain to balance your weight only to realize you've stuck your hand into a finely nestled beehive.

woe - having your guide realize that your ATC (the device that essentially ensures you don't plummet to a bloody, rocky death) has a crack in it just as you step off the cliff.
whoa! - having a back-up ATC, a chain-smoking guide with quick reflexes, and faith

woe - hiking 200 ft up the side of the mountain to realize that the only way back down is to rappel through the mouth of a perceivably bottomless cave
whoa! - realizing that there is, in fact, a bottom to said cave, reaching it, and realizing "hey, i'm standing at the bottom of a 200 ft deep cave!!!"

whoa.

the transition to normal

2008-12-11T07:21:00.000-08:00

i've re-entered the real world...sorta. for the first 5 weeks that i was here i was pretty much in vacation/tourist mode. i was spending most of my time exploring, discovering, getting lost, wandering, napping, carousing, etc. but since my teaching course ended about 3 weeks ago, life's taken on a different feel. i'm feeling settled and more at home each day, and feeling less and less like a visitor.

i've been on a relentless pursuit of employment and am happy to report that i've landed a full-time position in a highly respected language school, work permit included. it's strange to know that people are paying to hear me talk and watch me dance, but i suppose that's what teaching is about. i imagined when i first decided to move to thailand to teach english that i'd be spending my time sitting on the floor surrounded by kindergarteners teaching them their ABC's. i imagined doing arts and crafts all day with them, and getting sporadic hugs, and being doused with glue, and couldn't imagine anything better. and while i've done some of that, i have to say that my most rewarding teaching experience thus far came today - a 1-on-1 lesson with a 32 year old doctor. she wanted to improve her english speaking skills so that she could better communicate with her patients. after the experience i wrote about in my last blog i couldn't have been more excited to help her. at one point during the lesson i was trying to demonstrate the difference between the sounds 'd' and 't', and explained that it lies in the placement of the tongue relative to the teeth. in her quest to master these sounds she proceeded to bring her eyeball up to my mouth as if she were looking into a telescope and hold my lower lip down to better understand where my tongue was landing. we laughed at her inability to verbally differentiate between 'vowel' and 'bowel'. this is a very important distinction to know in a country where everyone always has diahrrea. at the end she told me that i had made her comfortable during the lesson and had taken away her shame, which is probably the best thing i could have heard as a new teacher.

other stuff:
my living situation is amazing at the moment. a woman with whom i studied during the teaching course has a house with her son (who has lived in thailand for 4 years) and his girlfriend. i'd visited them one weekend when i was still living in the hotel several weeks ago and felt just so at home and at peace with them, and in the house. they're one of the most generous, thoughtful, and fun families around and i feel so blessed to have fallen into such a wonderful situation. home-cooked meals, family game nights, the rent is cheap and the love runs high around here.

i saw a cart the other day at a festival that was selling ice cream sandwiches. it was a hot day, i'd been walking around the city for hours, and nothing sounded better at the moment than ice cream squished between two soft chocolate cookies. i ordered and what i received instead was an ice cream sandwich taken way too literally - ice cream in between two pieces of white bread.

during the final day of the stand-off between thailand's anti-government rebels and pro-government supporters that shut down the country's two major airports, i was walking home from the market and it seemed as if i was walking upon a concert. there was a stage and people shouting. but as i got closer and saw that the 'fans' were all holding baseball bats and wearing bandanas over their faces i soon realized this was no concert, it was a protest. luckily it happened to be non-violent at that moment.

there's a captivatingly enormous and beautiful statue of buddha near my house and i watched the king's birthday fireworks from his feet last week.

I seem to be living a mundane Thai experience. But I'm living a Thai experience and that's far enough from mundanity for me i suppose.

TIT

2008-11-15T05:19:00.001-08:00

last week a mole on my shoulder started changing color and shape, and was starting to become uncomfortable. i'd heard that if that happens, it's best to get it checked out, as that could be an indicator of skin cancer. i didn't know of any skin/dermatology clinics in the area, so i decided just to go to the nearest hospital and have someone take a look at it. i arrive at the hospital, head to the admissions desk, and explain that i have a "changing mole." no one at the desk seems to know enough english to understand my situation, so i show them the mole and try to explain the concept of color and shape to them and they just look at each other with puzzled looks. as a last resort, i point to the mole and scream "OUCH!!!" they just laugh hysterically. finally a nurse comes to my rescue, sits me down, takes my weight, temperature and blood pressure and asks me to explain my condition. i point, scream "OUCH!!!" once more, and receive the same response, but this time she points me in the opposite direction and says "sit at 7." i look down and there are about two dozen doors lining either side of a corridor with patients of varying conditions sitting down the middle. i proceed to walk down the corridor and start to realize why my situation was met with laughter...during the walk to door 7 i pass several unresponsive individuals lying on stretchers, a man bleeding from his head, and a crying woman holding a limp child in her arms. and then there's me...with a mole about the size of a grain of rice that's causing me discomfort.

i sit in front of door 7 and after about 5 minutes my name is called and i'm ushered inside room 7 (general practice). i sit in front of a man wearing a lab coat - presumably the doctor - and he asks me "what's your problem?" unsure of his level of english, i go through the same pointing & screaming process. but this time the reaction is different - a look of sheer horror and disbelief sweeps over his face and he begins to speak to the nurse in thai. she, in turn, now has the same horrified look on her face and begins scribbling on her notepad. the doctor turns back to me and starts spewing a blend of thai-english to me in a very frantic manner. the only words that i'm able to grasp are "surgery", "extraction", "malignant", "cancer", "stitches", "suture" and "next wednesday." so basically they want to operate on this mole that appears to be cancerous the following wednesday? i don't really feel comfortable with the lack of information about the procedure i'm receiving, but i figure i have about a week to decide whether or not to go through with it, and i can always cancel the appointment, so i say ok. great, so the nurse escorts me out and tells me to sit in front of door 22. i assume door 22 is the place one goes to make future appointments...so i go.

after about 3 minutes of waiting, the nurse comes to me, grabs my hand, and leads me inside room 22. instead of the anticipated reception/appointment desk, there's an operating table. i try to explain to the nurse that there must be some mistake...my appointment is not until NEXT wednesday. she responds by handing me a gown, helping me onto the table and putting on her gloves. at this point i start panicking, trying to think about how to escape from the situation, but by this point the surgeon and 6 other nurses/aides had made their way into the room. i tell the surgeon that my surgery appointment is next wednesday, my final attempt at freedom, but he explains that next wednesday is when i will get my stitches out and my biopsy report. the surgery is now. at this point i'm crying because of the reality that the first surgical procedure (as small as it may be) is being done in a developing country by people with whom i can't communicate about a condition i'm not sure they fully understand given the range of responses i'd received.

one nurse preps the area, another preps the instruments, another holds my gown closed, another handles the anesthesia, and two others seemed to just be standing there gawking. the 7th nurse grabs my hand and i soon realize that her only role during the procedure is to hold my hand and give me comfort. for this i'm grateful. soon the tears stop flowing and i just prepare for the worst, while praying for the best. the surgeon injects the anesthesia and soon after he lifts the scalpel. i turn my head in the opposite direction and look toward my nurse-friend who's holding my hand for support. i find comfort in her eyes and touch...until she lets out an uneasy scream at the sight of what's going on on the other side of my body, and squeezes my hand as if she's the one undergoing the procedure. her only job is to comfort me and that's how she handled it. minutes later the surgeon announces the procedure is over, stitches me up, and sends me on my way. i felt no pain and it seemed like everything went according to plan. i went to the check-out counter, got a bag of prescription pain killers, and settled my bill. the damaged - including the dr.'s consultation, surgical procedure, and prescription - came to roughly $30. i'd been in the hospital about 45 minutes.

i went back this past wednesday, got the results of the biopsy back - benign, and had my stitches removed. the scar has nearly faded and the pain and worry from the mole is no longer present. this experience taught me a lot - about the hidden bias i have toward western, 'developed' medicine, about the inflated nature of western healthcare (time, efficiency, expense), etc. but all in all it made me appreciate and trust my new home all the more. i can't really explain it, but there's something about lying beneath a scalpel that's held by a man who you don't understand, and who doesn't understand you, with a screaming nurse squeezing your hand that just gives you a little faith once you've made it to the other side.

there's an expression that's thrown around here quite often - 'this is thailand', or TIT. it's typically used in response to a ridiculous or surreal experience one has that's uniquely thai. walking out of the doors of that hospital, i was hard pressed to rationalize what i'd just gone through in western terms, but found great solace in the TIT idiom. i welcome many more, just hopefully more non-invasive ones.

city life

2008-10-28T04:31:00.000-07:00

i've spent the last several days of my trek just wandering about Chiang Mai just trying to understand what city life in thailand is like. thailand is, of course, well known for its beautiful white sand beaches and the bustling metropolis of Bangkok...but what is there in between? the population of Chiang Mai numbers slightly over 250,000, but its unfamiliarity makes it feel like there could be well over 2 million. there is constant motion in the streets - from motorbikes, to mobile food carts, to the scurrying rats - but i'm never quite sure where people are going. in chiang mai there's no rush hour. there are very few huge corporations, office parks, business plazas or the like to which employees commute from a suburb. the Chiang Mai structure of commerce is very different. it seems like the majority of people are entrepreneurs of small operations, such as massage parlors, restaurants, and mobile carts and sell any number of clothing, gadgets, fruit, jewelry, etc. the tourism and hospitality industries here also seems to provide a large number of employment opportunities. then there are a smaller amount who work as associates in the more established malls, shops, and plazas scattered about. but the typical office-oriented business person we are most familiar with in the states is a nearly non-existent being.

so yea, lots of traffic to/from who knows where. it's wet everywhere and always. not a day goes by that i don't come back to my room without damp feet and pant legs. but everything is extremely green as a result. it's definitely a city of contrasts - temples of glistening gold among piles of rat-infested garbage; the fast pace of traffic versus the generally relaxed mood of the people; monks crossing the streets with prostitutes. but what is consistent is generous nature of all who i have encountered. i've not once been harassed or scolded or shunned, even when i've committed the most significant cultural faux pas (walking into a temple with shorts on, crossing through oncoming traffic, etc.). unintentional offenses are never serious enough for anger. people are human. we are bigger than our actions. even the streets expose ripe teachings.

photos from around the city

jungle fever

2008-10-24T04:32:00.000-07:00

i haven't figured out a very efficient way to upload all of the photos i've captured so far, so in the mean time i've provided just a sampling of what i've covered over the past couple of days. the highlight was the 2-day group hike through the jungle northwest of chiang mai. on the "trek" we visited a fairly remote karen (one of the several native tribal groups) village, rode elephants along the ping river banks, and capped it off with a bamboo rafting excursion. this album is just a taste of some of the sights: mae sot trek

day 1

2008-10-20T22:12:00.000-07:00

after nearly 26 travel hours, i finally arrived in chiang mai around midnight last night. prior to my departure i spent several days in nashville, connecticut, and new york visiting with friends and loved ones from various phases of my life. the process of saying goodbye is never easy, but this one took me by surprise. i suppose that entrenched in this particular series of goodbyes was also a hope that i was also saying goodbye to an old me. i deliberately have no expectations or wishes for this voyage with the exception that i become a stronger, more aware, more conscious, more thoughtful, more tuned person than i was when i left.

i have a poor habit of second guessing my decisions, and this experience has been no different. we're facing an international economic recession...is this really the time for me to quit my job, relocate around the globe with no promise of a job or even permanent housing? is this really fair to my dog? i've had millions of these insecure thoughts over the past few days, but for every one of these thoughts i am presented with a counter-presence that assures me i've made the right decision. on the flight from hong kong to bangkok yesterday i sat next to a chatty austrian guy who stays in bangkok. we talked about everything from the thai/burmese conflict to the chappelle show, unpretentious and candid. in the midst of my apprehension, he assured me that everything before me was sure to be "magical," a word which suddenly gave me strength and replaced any lingering fears with a sense of joyful anticipation. he was reassuring and supplied me with exactly what i needed to step off the plane with confidence.

i arrived in chiang mai slightly after 10pm, grabbed a taxi to a guest house, and roamed the streets for about an hour trying to take in my first impressions of the city. it was pitch black and raining, and muted. it was a strange feeling not being within reach of someone who knew me, understood me, or would have any interest in talking to me. i wasn't lonely, though. i was inspired by the opportunity that surrounded me. to learn that language, the city layout, the customs...

this morning i woke up and when i hopped in the shower there was a small tropical gecko on the bathroom window. i came to terms with the fact that he might be my only friend in this town for a little while until i'm able to gain my bearings to start exploring and connecting. but i'm in no hurry.

today i've just been strolling around the old city trying to understand the street setup so that i may one day be able to ride my bike through the streets. doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon. the roads are jammed with every kind of vehicle imaginable, the painted lane markings wore off years ago, and the few street signals that exist are mere suggestions. everyone is polite, but strikingly aloof given the size and busy nature of the city. i had a type of noodle curry for breakfast and couldn't have been happier with this realization that my favorite dishes no longer have to be confined to supper time.

i'm off to resume my stroll through the city and hopefully get some good pictures. love.

hello and farewell

2008-10-12T23:08:00.000-07:00

In December of last year I found myself in an awkward place - I was living in Boulder, CO and was happy. But I was overrating my happiness at the expense of not growing nor being personally challenged. The last time I had this feeling was in 2006 when I decided to leave Nashville and relocate to Boulder. So naturally I began wondering if it might be time for me to pick up and move again. Though I have no regrets about my move to Boulder, the decision was definitely one made in haste and flight. It was a good model at the time and I learned a great deal from that approach, but I decided that this time around I wanted to be slightly more methodical and deliberate about my next move.

For the next four months I dedicated countless hours to identifying my next adventure. I developed a list of criteria several pages long that my new destination must meet, which included...natrual beauty, the opportunity to work in a health setting with an underserved population, low cost of living, healthy job market, and the availability of potatoes. When my vetting and research was all said and done, I had narrowed my options down to two locations: Thailand and Idaho.

In one week from today I'll be turning over a fresh leaf and starting a new life in Chiang Mai, Thailand. My tentative plan is to teach English to grade school children for several months while looking for a job in a health clinic near the Burmese border. I have a one-way ticket, but I anticipate being there anywhere between 10 months and the rest of my life. I'm leaving all my belongings behind, with the exception of what I'm able to carry on my back. I'll miss my friends, my family, my routine, my bicycle, Fergi, comfort, burritos, and my life as I know it...but it's time. And I couldn't be more thrilled nor thankful.

(And yes, I have already submitted my absentee ballot.)