I don't usually read poetry and when I do I definitely don't understand it. Sometimes I still like it though. This is a poem by Billy Collins that I like and wanted to share. I thought it was appropriate for Mother's Day.
The Lanyard - Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
May 16, 2012
February 12, 2012
Job Update
I just wanted to post an update about my new job. I’ve landed a temporary part-time job as a teacher’s aide at the community college. I’m helping in a classroom of Level 1, pre-lit refugees as well as doing some tutoring on the side. It is very challenging and demanding! Things that I take for granted aren’t obvious to these students, who in some cases come to their first class day without knowing how to hold a pen. Since I’ve been hired in the middle of the quarter, it’s hard for me to gauge what they’ve accomplished and what the class is aiming for, but I'm starting to figure it out.
As I mentioned, the class consists of refugees who have been placed in Spokane. The majority of them come from Bhutan, but we also have students from Afghanistan, Iraq, Burma and Eritrea among others. I say that because class membership varies day to day. Often students have appointments or circumstances that prevent them from coming.
They are all very motivated and a delight to work with. Most of them are older, from 40 to 60 or so. One day a student told me “Teacher, go slow. Students old. Not young.” Another student was trying to give me a small gift (there are some perks to being a teacher) and finally said “I’ve been trying to give you this, but you move kinda fast.” Hm. Well this is understandable since they are all constantly asking for one-on-one help. The more advanced ones are almost worse than the newer students because they are always wanting me to check things for them. “Teacher! Teacher! Here teacher! Is correct?” I feel like their pet doggy. I am trying to learn how to prioritize their needs, but still find myself tearing around the classroom at 50 mph. I should get one of those anklets that tells you how many miles you’ve walked.
They all have funny little mannerisms that I can’t help smiling at. One of my older students has a hard time keeping up with the younger, highly motivated students in my small group. She will hold her head in her hands and sigh, “Ooohhhhhhhh, teeaaacheerrrrr, Iiiiiii dooooonn’t knooooowwww” in a high, cracked voice. It cracks me up every time. Many of them seem to be cold and not only refuse to remove their coats but also sit through class wearing some very colorful hats. One older man answers most questions addressed to the class with “no… no… yes!” reminding me of Jim from the Vicar of Dibley.
It is so strange to walk off the streets of little, whitebread Spokane into classroom filled with hats, hijabs and colorful ethnic clothing. In addition to that, half the staff seems to be Russian, which means they all sound like they could be in a James Bond movie and have awesome names like Tatiana . The other day I was eating lunch in the break room when a woman walked in and asked me in a thick Russian accent if I would like some Russian cake. As far as work environments go, it could be worse.
In addition to work, I’ve been enjoying the company of a refugee family from Burma after signing up to volunteer at a great little organization called Global Neighborhood. I like it because it’s relationship based and focuses on empowerment. In all honesty I don’t do much more than go and hang out and maybe teach them a little English. It’s a large family and I have yet to figure out how many people actually live in the house as it seems a different set of people are there every time I visit.
The last time I was there, they needed to go to the store to buy some rice. I offered to take them in my car since they only have bicycles and bus passes. We pulled into the parking lot of Spokane’s “Best Asian Market” where I felt somewhat conspicuous as I examined aisles of egg noodles, pocky and soy sauce. The oldest son, who I’ll give the generic Asian name of “Lin,” signaled that he was finished shopping and began to wheel out some puppy-chow sized bags of rice. I watched in disbelief as he heaved five 50-pound bags into my trunk. I could feel the weight of them as I drove back to their residence where he carried each one into the house, making a waist-high stack. I guess if I start to miss rice, I’ll know where to go.
As I mentioned, the class consists of refugees who have been placed in Spokane. The majority of them come from Bhutan, but we also have students from Afghanistan, Iraq, Burma and Eritrea among others. I say that because class membership varies day to day. Often students have appointments or circumstances that prevent them from coming.
They are all very motivated and a delight to work with. Most of them are older, from 40 to 60 or so. One day a student told me “Teacher, go slow. Students old. Not young.” Another student was trying to give me a small gift (there are some perks to being a teacher) and finally said “I’ve been trying to give you this, but you move kinda fast.” Hm. Well this is understandable since they are all constantly asking for one-on-one help. The more advanced ones are almost worse than the newer students because they are always wanting me to check things for them. “Teacher! Teacher! Here teacher! Is correct?” I feel like their pet doggy. I am trying to learn how to prioritize their needs, but still find myself tearing around the classroom at 50 mph. I should get one of those anklets that tells you how many miles you’ve walked.
They all have funny little mannerisms that I can’t help smiling at. One of my older students has a hard time keeping up with the younger, highly motivated students in my small group. She will hold her head in her hands and sigh, “Ooohhhhhhhh, teeaaacheerrrrr, Iiiiiii dooooonn’t knooooowwww” in a high, cracked voice. It cracks me up every time. Many of them seem to be cold and not only refuse to remove their coats but also sit through class wearing some very colorful hats. One older man answers most questions addressed to the class with “no… no… yes!” reminding me of Jim from the Vicar of Dibley.
It is so strange to walk off the streets of little, whitebread Spokane into classroom filled with hats, hijabs and colorful ethnic clothing. In addition to that, half the staff seems to be Russian, which means they all sound like they could be in a James Bond movie and have awesome names like Tatiana . The other day I was eating lunch in the break room when a woman walked in and asked me in a thick Russian accent if I would like some Russian cake. As far as work environments go, it could be worse.
In addition to work, I’ve been enjoying the company of a refugee family from Burma after signing up to volunteer at a great little organization called Global Neighborhood. I like it because it’s relationship based and focuses on empowerment. In all honesty I don’t do much more than go and hang out and maybe teach them a little English. It’s a large family and I have yet to figure out how many people actually live in the house as it seems a different set of people are there every time I visit.
The last time I was there, they needed to go to the store to buy some rice. I offered to take them in my car since they only have bicycles and bus passes. We pulled into the parking lot of Spokane’s “Best Asian Market” where I felt somewhat conspicuous as I examined aisles of egg noodles, pocky and soy sauce. The oldest son, who I’ll give the generic Asian name of “Lin,” signaled that he was finished shopping and began to wheel out some puppy-chow sized bags of rice. I watched in disbelief as he heaved five 50-pound bags into my trunk. I could feel the weight of them as I drove back to their residence where he carried each one into the house, making a waist-high stack. I guess if I start to miss rice, I’ll know where to go.
December 22, 2011
Saudi Arabia comes to Washington
I told you I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. I am temporarily coming out of my blogging sabbatical in order to relate my latest adventures, this time right next to home.
It’s been two months since my return to the States and while I haven’t gone through much reverse culture shock, it is strange to be back. Sometimes I wake up and think I’m back in Chiang Mai and I often find myself comparing the people and places of Spokane with those of Thailand. Being home has a unique set of frustrations, even while it is providing me a chance to rest and process everything I’ve experienced. The holidays have been wonderful, although I may say they have also been a bit anticlimactic. It’s hard to explain. The holidays just aren’t the same when you’re away, but I think after looking forward to something for so long I didn’t really remember what to expect. I think part of it has to do with my state of transition. Things will feel a lot more “right” when I am more established, but for now I simply have to navigate a lot of difficult questions, both from others and myself.
That isn’t to say home isn’t everything I had hoped it would be. It has been great to see family again and reintegrate myself into their lives. I’ve also had a fantastic December what with many of my college friends coming to town to visit. I have had many enriching and encouraging conversations while visiting my favorite haunts in Spokane. There is no substitute for the friendship between individuals who know each other well. It is this fellowship that I have missed so acutely and experiencing it again is being home.
So life continues to be busy, even though I have much less on my to-do list. I have no leads on a job as of yet, but in the meantime I’ve been finding ways to volunteer or earn some spending money through babysitting (yes, really) and housesitting. Because my sister recently moved away, I am getting all of her old assignments which has been a big help. The family I am housesitting for again next month has two big dogs, two kittens, several outdoor cats, three horses, four cows and some chickens. It has actually been kind of therapeutic to be out in the country at their house and be around all these animals. I love the nature of the work and being outside. It’s just very “grounding” as one friend expressed it.
Now, the reason I’m writing this update and the source of its title is my latest odd job. Through a series of connections, I have been called upon to do some tutoring out at Eastern Washington University. I was told they have an ESL program that is booming and was expecting it to be (not unreasonably I think) a lot of Spanish speakers. But it’s not. It’s students from Saudi Arabia.
Apparently the Saudi government sponsors some of their students to come and study in the U.S. and, since it’s a great money-maker for the university, Eastern isn’t putting any limits on their program. How or why the tiny, rural town of Cheney Washington has been chosen as a study site for students from Saudi Arabia I have no idea. There certainly isn’t much to do and while I suppose it is quite the cultural exchange for them, I can’t see them integrating particularly well. Yet there it is.
My student is a 20-year-old Saudi guy who I am supposed to help with English conversation in the afternoons. He is very polite and works hard, but the job has ended up being more hassle than it’s worth because of the schedule and the fact that he is often late. Still, it has afforded some interesting opportunities to learn about his culture and to observe his reaction to American norms. He is curious about how I feel about Islam, whether or not I am married, and how much I paid for my car, among other things.
The car was really the tipping point for me deciding to blog about this little experience. After our first session, he followed me out of the library and I did my best to make small talk with him. We made our way to the parking lot where I assumed we would part ways. Instead he continued to follow me, somewhat hesitantly. When it became apparent that he was coming with me to my car I realized that he wanted me to give him a ride home. Now I know it sounds creepy as I write it, but I promise it was perfectly fine, just a bit awkward since I didn’t expect this to be part of the arrangement. Yet, being a sucker, I didn’t feel I could make him walk home in the cold (really, what was I going to say?) and so I offered him a lift.
This pattern continued the next couple of days, somewhat to my chagrin, but the tutoring arrangement is only temporary so I went along with it. However things took a turn for the ridiculous when he asked me to drop him off at Eastern’s central building. Surely this was close enough for him to walk? He kept trying to explain something to me and I couldn’t really understand what he was getting at until we pulled up to the PUB as it’s called and he flagged down two of his friends who proceeded to get into my car. Their English was quite a bit better and they thanked me profusely for giving them a ride back to their apartment, so I forgave them. But so it was that I found myself driving through Cheney Washington of all places with a carload of guys from Saudi Arabia.
Lately my student has not been asking for me to give him a ride home, which I am thankful for. I was surprised at him being okay with it in the first place. For one thing, men and women don’t approach each other at all in Saudi culture. It’s okay for me to work with a student of the opposite gender because neither of us “approached” each other, but outside of that I don’t imagine he is supposed to be spending time with me. Besides that, women aren’t even allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. Perhaps it was the mere novelty of seeing a woman behind the wheel that was his motivation.
Anyways, the point is that I may have returned from my year abroad, but my life is definitely different from what it was before I left. One thing that hasn’t changed though is my ability to find myself in bizarre situations.
It’s been two months since my return to the States and while I haven’t gone through much reverse culture shock, it is strange to be back. Sometimes I wake up and think I’m back in Chiang Mai and I often find myself comparing the people and places of Spokane with those of Thailand. Being home has a unique set of frustrations, even while it is providing me a chance to rest and process everything I’ve experienced. The holidays have been wonderful, although I may say they have also been a bit anticlimactic. It’s hard to explain. The holidays just aren’t the same when you’re away, but I think after looking forward to something for so long I didn’t really remember what to expect. I think part of it has to do with my state of transition. Things will feel a lot more “right” when I am more established, but for now I simply have to navigate a lot of difficult questions, both from others and myself.
That isn’t to say home isn’t everything I had hoped it would be. It has been great to see family again and reintegrate myself into their lives. I’ve also had a fantastic December what with many of my college friends coming to town to visit. I have had many enriching and encouraging conversations while visiting my favorite haunts in Spokane. There is no substitute for the friendship between individuals who know each other well. It is this fellowship that I have missed so acutely and experiencing it again is being home.
So life continues to be busy, even though I have much less on my to-do list. I have no leads on a job as of yet, but in the meantime I’ve been finding ways to volunteer or earn some spending money through babysitting (yes, really) and housesitting. Because my sister recently moved away, I am getting all of her old assignments which has been a big help. The family I am housesitting for again next month has two big dogs, two kittens, several outdoor cats, three horses, four cows and some chickens. It has actually been kind of therapeutic to be out in the country at their house and be around all these animals. I love the nature of the work and being outside. It’s just very “grounding” as one friend expressed it.
Now, the reason I’m writing this update and the source of its title is my latest odd job. Through a series of connections, I have been called upon to do some tutoring out at Eastern Washington University. I was told they have an ESL program that is booming and was expecting it to be (not unreasonably I think) a lot of Spanish speakers. But it’s not. It’s students from Saudi Arabia.
Apparently the Saudi government sponsors some of their students to come and study in the U.S. and, since it’s a great money-maker for the university, Eastern isn’t putting any limits on their program. How or why the tiny, rural town of Cheney Washington has been chosen as a study site for students from Saudi Arabia I have no idea. There certainly isn’t much to do and while I suppose it is quite the cultural exchange for them, I can’t see them integrating particularly well. Yet there it is.
My student is a 20-year-old Saudi guy who I am supposed to help with English conversation in the afternoons. He is very polite and works hard, but the job has ended up being more hassle than it’s worth because of the schedule and the fact that he is often late. Still, it has afforded some interesting opportunities to learn about his culture and to observe his reaction to American norms. He is curious about how I feel about Islam, whether or not I am married, and how much I paid for my car, among other things.
The car was really the tipping point for me deciding to blog about this little experience. After our first session, he followed me out of the library and I did my best to make small talk with him. We made our way to the parking lot where I assumed we would part ways. Instead he continued to follow me, somewhat hesitantly. When it became apparent that he was coming with me to my car I realized that he wanted me to give him a ride home. Now I know it sounds creepy as I write it, but I promise it was perfectly fine, just a bit awkward since I didn’t expect this to be part of the arrangement. Yet, being a sucker, I didn’t feel I could make him walk home in the cold (really, what was I going to say?) and so I offered him a lift.
This pattern continued the next couple of days, somewhat to my chagrin, but the tutoring arrangement is only temporary so I went along with it. However things took a turn for the ridiculous when he asked me to drop him off at Eastern’s central building. Surely this was close enough for him to walk? He kept trying to explain something to me and I couldn’t really understand what he was getting at until we pulled up to the PUB as it’s called and he flagged down two of his friends who proceeded to get into my car. Their English was quite a bit better and they thanked me profusely for giving them a ride back to their apartment, so I forgave them. But so it was that I found myself driving through Cheney Washington of all places with a carload of guys from Saudi Arabia.
Lately my student has not been asking for me to give him a ride home, which I am thankful for. I was surprised at him being okay with it in the first place. For one thing, men and women don’t approach each other at all in Saudi culture. It’s okay for me to work with a student of the opposite gender because neither of us “approached” each other, but outside of that I don’t imagine he is supposed to be spending time with me. Besides that, women aren’t even allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. Perhaps it was the mere novelty of seeing a woman behind the wheel that was his motivation.
Anyways, the point is that I may have returned from my year abroad, but my life is definitely different from what it was before I left. One thing that hasn’t changed though is my ability to find myself in bizarre situations.
October 31, 2011
Decisions, Decisions
"'I've never HAD to make a decision before.'
'Think of it as a challenge,' said Tom, from between pursed lips.
'How do you go about it?' asked Roger...
...'You just- You put together all the- You think this way and that- You make a list- You weight the alternatives-" Tom fell silent. 'I'm a peasant,' he said at last. 'I've never had to make a decision. People like you are supposed to make them for me.'
'What if I make one--and it's wrong?"
'I'm not an expert, but if a decision doesn't work out, my guess would be that you have to make another decision.'
'A SECOND decision?' cried Roger in alarm.
'I'm not an expert, but my guess would be you keep making decisions until you get one that works.'
'That could take YEARS!' said Roger the Toad.
'That's another reason why I don't make them.'
'Think of it as a challenge,' said Tom, from between pursed lips.
'How do you go about it?' asked Roger...
...'You just- You put together all the- You think this way and that- You make a list- You weight the alternatives-" Tom fell silent. 'I'm a peasant,' he said at last. 'I've never had to make a decision. People like you are supposed to make them for me.'
'What if I make one--and it's wrong?"
'I'm not an expert, but if a decision doesn't work out, my guess would be that you have to make another decision.'
'A SECOND decision?' cried Roger in alarm.
'I'm not an expert, but my guess would be you keep making decisions until you get one that works.'
'That could take YEARS!' said Roger the Toad.
'That's another reason why I don't make them.'
~A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears by Jules Feiffer
(Okay I know this post is cheating since I said I wasn't blogging anymore, but I forgot to link to my final album of Thailand photos. As long as I was posting I decided to share this excellent Garfield Minus Garfield comic and quote from a favorite children's book of mine. Hurray for career planning.) Click on the link below for pics.
October 24, 2011
There and Back Again
Well I’m back. I’ve traded in my flip flops and sun block for slippers and sweatshirts. There’s a sharp bite in the autumn air and instead of palm trees with coconuts I’m met with the fall colors when I go outside. It’s been a trip and no mistake. It’s very strange to look outside and see freshly plowed farmland and evergreen trees. My parents’ house is very quiet and peaceful. I’m settling into my sister’s old room for the time being. Mine has turned into a sort of play room for grandchildren, and I’m perfectly fine with that.
I’m unpacking slowly and rediscovering my winter weather clothing. I’ve been fighting some pretty serious jet-lag since my arrival on Thursday. I’ve heard it takes about a day for every time zone, so it might be a while. I’ve been waking up at 5:30 a.m. most days, which for me is unheard of, and I generally crash hard around 2:00 p.m. Today I forced myself not to nap, helped by some leftover honest to goodness freshly ground coffee. Yep, I’m home.
I got to see my siblings and niece and nephew on Saturday. It was wonderful to catch up and see how much the little ones had grown. Well, technically I was seeing my nephew for the first time and let me tell you he is cuter than should be allowed and one of the happiest babies I’ve ever seen (and Gwen was a pretty happy baby so that is saying something). Gwen looks about tall enough to be five years old and, while a bit shy at first, didn’t take long to warm up to the strange new aunt from her unremembered past. I gave her presents. I can’t believe how much she’s talking. She’s amazingly articulate and bright. I got to hear a few more details of my sister’s new teaching job and my brother’s new position with fire dispatch as well as relate some of my own stories in person. It was good to catch up and have the entire family together.
I’m looking forward to reconnecting with old friends in the area. A lot of folks are out of state right now, but there’s a remnant here in Washington and I’ve been trying to give myself something resembling a schedule by making play dates with all of them. Right now there’s not much else for me to do, which is fine because I’m pretty exhausted. It’s going to take some time for me to process everything and re-center myself. And there’s always the dreaded question: What’s Next?
Right now I honestly don’t know. I’m just trying to get back on my feet and adjust to 50 degree weather (yes, I’m freezing, but it’s a wonderful sensation). My short term plan is just to find some sort of job to sustain myself. I’m not too particular as to what. Other than that I don’t have any big plans or goals. I know I need to start looking at my options and making some decisions, and I’ve decided that’s what this year will be for: planning my life. Granted, life and plans don’t generally go together that well, but I can’t just sit around waiting for it to happen. However it’s going to take some time, especially for my indecisive self.
So no, I don’t know what I’ll be doing this year and I don’t have any plans or goals to reach for. I kind of don’t like that, but I’m learning to be okay with it. Jon Foreman, that amazing songwriter whose songs seem to read my mind sometimes, wrote an article recently that I’d like to share here. It’s called “Making a Living” and despite its poetic language, it’s a pretty down-to-earth expression of how I feel. So when people ask me “what’s next?” I’ll probably tell them “I don’t know,” but what I’ll be thinking is “well, I’ll be making a living.”
Thank you all for following my adventures and putting up with my ramblings. It’s meant a lot to know that you guys were out there, reading along and occasionally commenting on my posts. This blog has been a wonderful way for me to express myself and to process through all of my many experiences in the last two years. Yes, the last two years. This blog holds many of the experiences of the last two years of my life. They’re there, online, for anybody to find and read (although they’d have to look pretty hard). I find that to be a bit strange and so I’ve decided, for many reasons, that I’d like to give blogging a break for a little while.
It’s not just for that reason. My internet access is more limited now and I’ll need to devote more time to job hunting. I’m no longer living out of the country so I won’t have as much to write about (not that life will be any less interesting, just that it will be less interesting to read, or maybe just harder to write about). Plus if I do get a job in the area I will feel less comfortable about publishing myself online, not that I wasn’t wary of this before but I felt a little more justified in writing a personal blog overseas than I would here at home. Plus I just feel that it would be good to live less of my life online and to spend less time writing about myself :-). I may pick it up again at some point, but for now I’m signing off. So thanks for reading and I promise that I will be in touch.
Blessings and Peace,
Heidi
I’m unpacking slowly and rediscovering my winter weather clothing. I’ve been fighting some pretty serious jet-lag since my arrival on Thursday. I’ve heard it takes about a day for every time zone, so it might be a while. I’ve been waking up at 5:30 a.m. most days, which for me is unheard of, and I generally crash hard around 2:00 p.m. Today I forced myself not to nap, helped by some leftover honest to goodness freshly ground coffee. Yep, I’m home.
I got to see my siblings and niece and nephew on Saturday. It was wonderful to catch up and see how much the little ones had grown. Well, technically I was seeing my nephew for the first time and let me tell you he is cuter than should be allowed and one of the happiest babies I’ve ever seen (and Gwen was a pretty happy baby so that is saying something). Gwen looks about tall enough to be five years old and, while a bit shy at first, didn’t take long to warm up to the strange new aunt from her unremembered past. I gave her presents. I can’t believe how much she’s talking. She’s amazingly articulate and bright. I got to hear a few more details of my sister’s new teaching job and my brother’s new position with fire dispatch as well as relate some of my own stories in person. It was good to catch up and have the entire family together.
I’m looking forward to reconnecting with old friends in the area. A lot of folks are out of state right now, but there’s a remnant here in Washington and I’ve been trying to give myself something resembling a schedule by making play dates with all of them. Right now there’s not much else for me to do, which is fine because I’m pretty exhausted. It’s going to take some time for me to process everything and re-center myself. And there’s always the dreaded question: What’s Next?
Right now I honestly don’t know. I’m just trying to get back on my feet and adjust to 50 degree weather (yes, I’m freezing, but it’s a wonderful sensation). My short term plan is just to find some sort of job to sustain myself. I’m not too particular as to what. Other than that I don’t have any big plans or goals. I know I need to start looking at my options and making some decisions, and I’ve decided that’s what this year will be for: planning my life. Granted, life and plans don’t generally go together that well, but I can’t just sit around waiting for it to happen. However it’s going to take some time, especially for my indecisive self.
So no, I don’t know what I’ll be doing this year and I don’t have any plans or goals to reach for. I kind of don’t like that, but I’m learning to be okay with it. Jon Foreman, that amazing songwriter whose songs seem to read my mind sometimes, wrote an article recently that I’d like to share here. It’s called “Making a Living” and despite its poetic language, it’s a pretty down-to-earth expression of how I feel. So when people ask me “what’s next?” I’ll probably tell them “I don’t know,” but what I’ll be thinking is “well, I’ll be making a living.”
Thank you all for following my adventures and putting up with my ramblings. It’s meant a lot to know that you guys were out there, reading along and occasionally commenting on my posts. This blog has been a wonderful way for me to express myself and to process through all of my many experiences in the last two years. Yes, the last two years. This blog holds many of the experiences of the last two years of my life. They’re there, online, for anybody to find and read (although they’d have to look pretty hard). I find that to be a bit strange and so I’ve decided, for many reasons, that I’d like to give blogging a break for a little while.
It’s not just for that reason. My internet access is more limited now and I’ll need to devote more time to job hunting. I’m no longer living out of the country so I won’t have as much to write about (not that life will be any less interesting, just that it will be less interesting to read, or maybe just harder to write about). Plus if I do get a job in the area I will feel less comfortable about publishing myself online, not that I wasn’t wary of this before but I felt a little more justified in writing a personal blog overseas than I would here at home. Plus I just feel that it would be good to live less of my life online and to spend less time writing about myself :-). I may pick it up again at some point, but for now I’m signing off. So thanks for reading and I promise that I will be in touch.
Blessings and Peace,
Heidi
October 19, 2011
Last Days in Phuket
After our mad scramble across the country, our time in Phuket was a lot of sabai sabai living. We went to the beach several times per day, swimming in the ocean and eating fresh seafood at one of the many seaside restaurants.
We did manage to schedule a boat tour of the surrounding coast on Tuesday, our last full day in Thailand. For this we were crammed into a bus with a bunch of youngish Thai people and carted around to various touristy locations. For me the main attraction was just seeing a little more of the surrounding area. I didn't really care too much for the actual stops. The first of these was at a sort of cave with some Buddhist statuary, which was kind of neat, and some very friendly and overfed monkeys, which were also kind of neat. We then got herded onto a boat and went to visit "James Bond Island," which was featured in a James Bond movie in the 70's and which marketing types are still milking for all its worth. Even in the low season it was overcrowded and rather underwhelming I thought, but the boat ride was pretty and it was neat to see a different side of Thailand. We then stopped at a Muslim Thai village, which I think stopped being a legit fishing village a long time ago and is now filled with market stalls selling the usual souvenirs. The village was built entirely on stilts over the water, a la Venice, and we wandered through the residential section, which was made of some pretty nice houses and some not so nice houses and featured a lot of pet cats and caged birds. I couldn't help imagining a bus load of Muslim Thai tourists being dropped off at Fairfield, walking the streets with their digital cameras and taking pictures of Kelly's Thrift and weird lawn ornaments. The locals would be out selling "America" t-shirts and hats, the town mayor pushing to get more tours scheduled to save the town's economy. It made me smile to think of this alternate universe. I felt like a strange sort of intruder, interested, but ultimately finding it weird to think of someone's home as a tourist attraction. We had a good day though, touristy as it was, and I was glad we'd done the tour.
We had perfect weather for our entire stay except for the very last day. On our final day in Phuket, I woke up to gray clouds and drizzling rain. Usually to get to the beach we had to go on an unglamorous walk past various construction sites before getting to a smaller path sheltered by a tree canopy. It was always kind of refreshing to make your way through this after the initial slog on the pavement in the sun, but after the rain it became something between a swamp and an obstacle course. Once I reached the beach, I hoped that the clouds would disperse, but after sitting it out on my beach towel for a while I gave up hope. The light drizzle was turning into actual rain. The clouds glared down at me menacingly, as if telling me my time was up and it was time to pack for home. I grabbed my things and headed back, tiptoeing around the mud and catching my bag on the barbed wire fence on the right. Yes, Thailand was no longer welcoming and it was time to go.
We did have one last meal by the beach. I ate a fantastic crab curry with rice and a mango shake to wash it down. Later in the evening we got cocktails and appetizers, enjoying one last evening by the beach. Memories of right before I came to Thailand kept playing in my head: the guy at the spokane airport who told me to try some "dang mo," getting lunch (or was it dinner?) at the Greek/Italian restaurant next to Whitworth with Laura and the book club, saying goodbye to my brother and niece... I can't believe it's been a year. Our taxi will arrive in 30 minutes. soon I will be flying back across the Pacific. Hopefully everything will go smoothly. Can't wait to see home.
sunday, October 16th
We spent most of saturday in transit, we spent most of the morning hanging out at the hotel, waiting for 3:30 to roll around so we could head to the sukothai airport. We checked out from one of my favorite hotels in the entire world (seriously people, they had pet rabbits that hopped around the parking lot) and bid farewell to our gracious hosts. The sukothai airport was tiny but super nice with a well-furnished open-air lobby, plenty of free reading material and even complementary snacks. We boarded our small plane and made a seamless transition in Bangkok.
We arrived in Phuket around 10:00 p.m. on the 15th and got settled in our small but comfy rooms. We were a ways from the beach but beachside accommodation was a bit spendy and it was a short walk away. sunday morning we headed down to the beach for a day of sun and sand, still blessed with some amazingly cooperative weather. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and after swim in the sea I stretched myself out thinking it would be nice to even out my horrendous farmer's tan. What ended up happening is I got well and truly toasted. Let this be a testament to the fact that I DON'T TAN! I knew this to be true but I thought that maybe, just maybe, with spf 50 sunscreen the worst that would happen is I would be just as white as before. Not so. My back turned a lovely shade of magenta and I got to spend the rest of my vacation wincing whenever I changed in or out of my swimming suit. But hey, it's a battle scar, it's what happens when you put a scandinavian in a tropical climate, it's vindication of my sun-phobia this entire year. so yes, it was not a good day for my lily white skin and I'm coming out of Phuket a little on the extra-crispy side, but now I never have to feel pressured to try and get a tan ever again.
We needed to figure out how we were going to finish the last leg of our trip. After carefully monitoring the flood situation in central Thailand, I thought it would best to avoid Bangkok as much as possible. Therefore we came up with the idea of grabbing the latest flight we could out of Phuket and avoiding staying in Bangkok at all.
We decided to make a quick trip to Phuket Town in order to finish up some souvenir shopping and sort out our final travel arrangements. We got dropped off at town's day market and had some difficulty finding information about a travel agency or airline office. Finally we broke down and asked the extremely annoying taxi drivers if they knew of a nearby travel agency. Their English was pretty basic and so when I tried to explain what we wanted they kept saying "up to you! up to you!" "I don't know!" I responded. It was getting pretty frustrating. After a few minutes, one of them pointed us around the block and, when continued to look lost, he offered to drive us for a ridiculously high price. I negotiated to make it a round trip fare and a few minutes later we were pulling up to the travel agency named "Up To You Travel." Oh. We had to do a lot of monkeying around in order to reserve our flights as they didn't have a computer system and their credit card machine wasn't working, but we got our reservations and the flight was late enough that we wouldn't even have a very long layover in Bangkok. Back we went to the market, which was crazy and crowded and a cultural experience in and of itself. After only a little bit of that I was feeling pretty drained, so we finished making our purchases grabbed some dinner and negotiated a fare back to the northern side of the island.
We arrived in Phuket around 10:00 p.m. on the 15th and got settled in our small but comfy rooms. We were a ways from the beach but beachside accommodation was a bit spendy and it was a short walk away. sunday morning we headed down to the beach for a day of sun and sand, still blessed with some amazingly cooperative weather. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and after swim in the sea I stretched myself out thinking it would be nice to even out my horrendous farmer's tan. What ended up happening is I got well and truly toasted. Let this be a testament to the fact that I DON'T TAN! I knew this to be true but I thought that maybe, just maybe, with spf 50 sunscreen the worst that would happen is I would be just as white as before. Not so. My back turned a lovely shade of magenta and I got to spend the rest of my vacation wincing whenever I changed in or out of my swimming suit. But hey, it's a battle scar, it's what happens when you put a scandinavian in a tropical climate, it's vindication of my sun-phobia this entire year. so yes, it was not a good day for my lily white skin and I'm coming out of Phuket a little on the extra-crispy side, but now I never have to feel pressured to try and get a tan ever again.
We needed to figure out how we were going to finish the last leg of our trip. After carefully monitoring the flood situation in central Thailand, I thought it would best to avoid Bangkok as much as possible. Therefore we came up with the idea of grabbing the latest flight we could out of Phuket and avoiding staying in Bangkok at all.
We decided to make a quick trip to Phuket Town in order to finish up some souvenir shopping and sort out our final travel arrangements. We got dropped off at town's day market and had some difficulty finding information about a travel agency or airline office. Finally we broke down and asked the extremely annoying taxi drivers if they knew of a nearby travel agency. Their English was pretty basic and so when I tried to explain what we wanted they kept saying "up to you! up to you!" "I don't know!" I responded. It was getting pretty frustrating. After a few minutes, one of them pointed us around the block and, when continued to look lost, he offered to drive us for a ridiculously high price. I negotiated to make it a round trip fare and a few minutes later we were pulling up to the travel agency named "Up To You Travel." Oh. We had to do a lot of monkeying around in order to reserve our flights as they didn't have a computer system and their credit card machine wasn't working, but we got our reservations and the flight was late enough that we wouldn't even have a very long layover in Bangkok. Back we went to the market, which was crazy and crowded and a cultural experience in and of itself. After only a little bit of that I was feeling pretty drained, so we finished making our purchases grabbed some dinner and negotiated a fare back to the northern side of the island.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)