Time for Harvest, and Final Projects

December 5, 2011

Harvest time means that all the green fields from the beginning of my journey have turned golden yellow.  It is a physical representation of truly how much time has passed.  Pretty cool, though, because just as the rice has changed through process, so have I, through our group process.

This last unit before final projects was based on mining, and it brought together everything we have learned so far.  Water gets poisoned, land rights are violated, and of course, the farmland is destroyed.  What was most interesting about this unit was its complexity.  I, as an American consumer, contribute to this issue.  At our reading discussion, we had to take everything that had mined products in it and put it at our feet.  Jewlery, electronics from our backpacks, notebooks, pens — everything was sitting at our feet.  It was a scary realization.  Then we went off to the communities, and they, too, use products that have been mined.  It’s really a “not in my backyard” argument, but it needs to happen in our current economy, so whose backyard do we put it in?  More importantly, how do we ensure that those people have a say? That seems to be one of the biggest problems here in Northeast Thailand.  The villagers simply are not heard when the proposed projects will change their livelihood forever.

Despite all the work that was due, two friends and I decided to take our personal days and return back to the organic village.  What an adventure it was.  I could not stay with my host family, so I stayed with my friends and Paw Wan.  Paw is the local rice varieties expert, so it was cool harvesting rice in his farm.  It wasn’t just Jasmine 105 or Gaw Kaw 6; we were harvesting black rice, and then for dinner, we had the most delicious red sticky rice.  (Which doesn’t mean the rice is sticky — it is a different kind of rice that is eaten in this region.)

The trip back was where the adventure happened.  A driver brought us to the city nearby, then we got on an open air bus to take us to the bus station, and then there was only standing room on the four-hour bus ride.  Plus, the air conditioning was broken.  I found myself sitting on the floor (because it was cooler) scrunched between my friends, and just hoping that time would pass quickly.

We got home safe and sound as always, appreciating the adventure and impressed with our language skills.  It is now time for final projects, so off to the village to assess the feasibility of a Green Market.  But more on that soon…

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Community, Globalization, and Tons of Trash

October 24, 2011

So many villages, so little space to write about them…  so I’ll keep up with the highlights principle.  The highlight of the Land unit was definitely Baw Kaew community.  It is a protest village where the people were kicked off of their land, and two years ago they returned and have built a community.  There were people from all different villages, and through the shared struggle and passion, they have created something unbelievable.  The grandmothers share their stories of being kicked off their land with the children, who will continue to fight based on the devotion.  This unit showed me that an outside force or a powerful figure is not needed for a successful grassroots movement.  Anyone and everyone has agency, and it just takes motivation and passion to create change.  It was a really moving exchange and experience.

My Paw from this unit, other than the two one-nighters, was incredibly educated.  I was sitting watching Meh cook one night when Paw came into the cooking area.  He sat down next to me, pen in hand, and started to lecture.  All in Thai, of course, but the essence of the conversation was, “Julie, do you see this papaya—we grow them in Thailand.  You don’t grow them in America, yet you are able to eat them in America.  That is just one reason why globalization is so amazing.”  The lectures continued and got more and more complex over the course of the three days. There was a lot of guessing based on what was said or drawn (one day he got out his grandson’s coloring book and drew for us—an upgrade to the hand), but it was all an amazing lesson on both communication and globalization.

After the unit ended, there was an optional trip to the landfill near our campus.  Just 17km away, 200 tons of trash is brought in each day.  There is a community of 60 families that live there, started by just one man who went to make a living off of the trash.  Not only does it bring to light the realization of scavengers (those who work 20 hours a day picking through garbage to find plastic bottles to recycle), but it brings to light the realities of consumerism.  I literally climbed a trash mountain.  Not to mention the irony of the laundry detergent package I saw in the mud that read, “Hygiene”.

I was so blown away by the Paw that we exchanged with there.  He no longer works in the landfill, nor does his wife and children, but he lives there because he owns his land and he wants to make the community a better place.  Unlike in America, where people strive to get out of the slums, Paw was trying to improve the village.  He chooses to live in a dump — literally.

The problems with each village we visit are hard to stomach.  With each unit and each exchange, I continue to recognize the realities of a developing country.  It is natural to make comparisons to the United States, and we have many of these issues.  We have medical problems associated with damming and mining (the coming two units).  We have poverty that is solved by cash cropping.  There are so many problems in our world.  This country is so amazing, and my time here is invaluable, but it is hard meeting amazing people and learning about their suffering, unable to fix it.

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In The Jungle, The Mighty Jungle

October 17, 2011

Well, this time, it’s “the students sleep tonight”.  Part one of our second unit, Land, takes place in villages that have had recent struggles with their land.  Whether it is a protest village, a community that has recently returned to their land, or exchanging with the governmental agency that protects the forest, we are seeing all sides of land rights in Issan.  The journey started with a six hour van ride to a village just north of Cambodia.

Our van slowed to a stop at a group of houses, but we were told this was not our village.  We all loaded onto the back of a truck and headed into the jungle.  The Suan Ba, or forest, was through deep woods and the land had flooded recently- our vans would not make it.  Little did I understand flooding.  After community members finished nailing wooden boards as two longs rows of seats, we loaded up.  Thus began the most exciting hour long ride of my life.  Somewhere between rollercoaster and safari, we found ourselves on a real life version of a Disney World ride.

The village only got better.  It started with bananas hanging by a pole for us to eat at our leisure, then there was some wading through a river, an exchange, and then a slumber party of the whole group sleeping in the community “room”.  There was a light bulb, but no other electricity.  The exchangee was willing to answer all questions, so after our allotted time, questions were asked about Cambodia, the Vietnam War, and ended by talking about elephants. (We saw one while driving through the city, of all places, on the way home– just a baby walking on a leash led by a man down a busy street.)

We returned for the evening to meet the U.S. Ambassador, have finger food and mingle.  So it’s a nice relaxing evening, and then off to the next village! It has become a trend that at all villages, our host parents like to feed us a lot, and so I am a bit nervous for Yom Kippur tomorrow.  The Ajaans (teachers) know I am fasting, so they will explain it—hopefully it is understood as religious and not as an insult to their food, because village food is so delicious.

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Mai Chai Bouey Kem Me: Don’t Use Chemical Fertilizer

September 28, 2011

The food/agriculture unit homestay has come to an end.  These last six days were filled with excitement and unbelievable experiences.  I cannot share everything from this past week, but I’ll go over the highlights.

First stop, Roi Et province.  We stayed in a village that was in transition from non-organic to organic farming, so almost every family had pigs to make their organic fertilizer.  We got a tour of some farms, and they really tried to make it interactive.  So, I got to plant a banana tree!

Before heading to Yasothon province, the location of our last homestay of the unit, we stopped in Masaharaka to observe our future families protesting the use of chemicals in farming.  The speakers brought some to tears as they spoke of the horrors that have come as adverse effects, and the passion of these people to protect their livelihood was an unbelievable thing to watch.  Wearing green, just as the organic market they participate in is the Green Market, the street was flooded with signs and images of pesticides.  This peaceful demonstration showed more than just what chemicals can do—it showed the importance of community.  These individuals came together for a cause, and their community was shown through both the market and the signs floating down the street.

I loved my family at this homestay.  Paw and I were surprisingly able to communicate a lot,  so I got to learn about both his and Meh’s farming practices and lives.  Both have lived in the village their entire lives, and have been farming organically for 12 years now.  We took the tractor out to the farm and came back with a bounty of delicious treats.  A green papaya for Som Tom, a local dish, long beans, peanuts, sugar cane, okra, and my favorite—passion fruit.  I got to learn about the different type of rice that he grows, and then that day we stayed up late and helped prepare for the market.  Weighing peppers, sorting veggies, carrying coconuts, and watching as Meh prepared the banana snacks—coconut and rice wrapped in banana leaf.  We woke early (4:00) to meet our parents at the market, and helped sell their rice and treats. (My time at local farmer’s markets paid off, because I would not allow for bargaining).

Our week came to an end after our last exchange with a local government official who was very passionate about hating TNCs.  This past week was a great first unit trip—personal connections were formed and we got a real insight into the issues.  These next 10 days in Khon Kaen will be rough, because I can’t wait to get back into the villages.

(Oh! I almost forgot… if you put a green mango into a box for a few days, it ripens perfectly!  It’s a very useful skill when mangos are not in season.)

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Friday Night Surprise

September 7, 2011

This past Friday, I had one of those experiences that you never really expect to have when you go abroad to another country. I really hadn’t heard anything about it, and looking back, I wonder if things would have gone differently if I had. But either way, I walked right into it without ever seeing it coming.

One Friday, I came home to my house after a long day of classes. And at that point, as usual, I could only think about food. So, I crept upstairs to get a sneak peek at dinner before I sat down to solidify the plans I had made with some friends that night. When I walked in, my jaw dropped. What I saw in that kitchen, I had never seen the likes before. I knew that this would change everything, change the rules of laws I’d never questioned. And my plans, my plans would lie there in their impermanence, never to be solidified. Now, you’re probably really curious as to what’s going on. And the really clever ones probably think they even have it figured out. But let me assure you, there is no type of preparation for what I’m about to share.

So like I was saying, my jaw dropped. But that’s slightly inaccurate. My jaw dropped last. My nose registered everything first. I was hit with a wave of different aromas all at once. Sweet, spicy, tangy, bitter, good, great, amazing; I had no idea my nose could register so many different scents. Then my eyes noticed it. There, before me, was a feast. There were cheeses: chive, sweet chili, blue, white cheddar, others. There were crackers: salted. Smoked salmon lay sliced into thin strips in its preparation to lie perfectly on a cracker. There was garlic bread, Dim Sim (a Chinese inspired meat dumpling style food very popular in Australia) and capers. And these were just the appetizers. I could go on and on about the food, and needless to say, I quite enjoyed it. But that was just one of many surprises.

Today would be the day I remembered as my host mom’s birthday party. Later that night, the house was flooded with guests I had never seen before (about eight) and conversations about life, culture and “glory days” that I could not have prepared for. Yet surprisingly, I found I didn’t really have to. I really enjoyed it.  They seemed to be as interested in my life as I was in theirs. I mean, granted, they were lawyers and computer specialists. They were painters and musicians. They had jobs and careers. And yet, they found some interest in my college-level decision making ability and indecisiveness in life plans. Maybe there was something reassuring, some type of preserved innocence in being undecided about the future. We traded college stories and experiences as they encouraged me to take my time in deciding my future. We finished with a grand finale: a music piece played by Brian, a family friend and talented musician, joined not only by one of his friends, but also my housemate and friend from Richmond, Shohsei, who had been dying to play guitar and was finally able to find one to play in Australia. Our host family knew he played guitar, but was shocked to see how incredible he actually was. And as everyone sang happy birthday and applauded, I realized how glad I was that I stayed in that night.

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I Want to Hold Your Hand, and Get Back on the Bus

September 7, 2011

The Beatles had people in complete awe of them, wanting nothing more than to be near them. Now, I would not say I have John Lennon status here in Thailand, but at school in the village, the children certainly wanted to hold my hand.  In fact, all of us had 3-4 Thai kids ranging in age from 6 to 13 hanging off of us at any moment in time.  For our third day in the community, instead of Thai class, we had a “Thai Fun Activity”, consisting of us playing games with kids at school, and then us teaching them an activity.  Thank you, summer camps, because we all quickly agreed to teach them “Baby Shark”, and out second was “The Banana Song”.  If you are unfamiliar with these, I highly recommend learning them, because just as I thought they would never come in handy again—I was mistaken.  The joy that came from these kids was indescribable.  Later, at our homestays, we had kids doing the hand motions, asking us to sing it again.

My homestay could probably be best described by the final night.  Until the last night, it was a lot of observing and eating.  I didn’t really feel a strong connection to my family, and it was not the easiest three days of my life. It did, however, have a very happy ending when the entire village gathered at my neighbor’s house and we had what I would call a block party.  There was music, all the students ate a meal together prepared by many families, and we danced into the night (meaning like 8:00pm, because that is a normal bed time in villages.)

These past few days in Khon Kaen have given us a time to actually explore the city and get a hold of public transportation. Saung Taos, which are “buses” where you sit on benches on the flat of a pick-up truck with a roof, have been an exciting way of exploring.  For instance, last night as we tried to get to this Italian place for dinner, we were supposed to switch buses.  This, of course, we did not know, and ended up past the slums and far from the city.  As the Saung Tao slowed to a stop, the nine of us looked at each other, and got off hesitantly as we were kicked off by the driver.  The fear started to set in for sure, but luckily, there was one store with its light on, and the two women in the pharmacy spoke a little English.  We had them call a cab for us, because we had no clue where we were.  Seeing as cab drivers have numbers, but do not answer their phones, we were stuck.  At that moment, another Saung Tao drove up, and we had the women ask them to drive us to the hotel down the street from the restaurant.  At the price of 200 bhat, it was totally worth it.  So our personal taxi Saung Tao drove us back down the shady roads, and the night concluded with a delicious pizza.  (I absolutely love Thai food, but as a true American, I really missed pizza).  Another adventure, another night in Thailand.

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Lean on Me, Leech on Me

August 29, 2011

My departure from Bangkok was timely, as I was ready to experience something outside of the backpacking district of the capital. The drive to the “resort” where we stayed this past week was about 7 hours from Bangkok in Khon Kaen, Provence. We left our computers to be brought to Khon Kaen University, so the week was entirely wireless and open for bonding.  Through many group meetings and activities, we really started to work together as a group, finding our way each moment.  Whether we were transferring people through a web of string or discussing oppression, we leaned on each other through rougher moments and celebrated the positives together.  It seems like we are really forming a strong community, which is a main focus of the program both internally and within the villages we stay in.

On our way to the resort, we stopped about halfway through for a nature walk. By nature walk, of course I mean sludging through mud in gaters (which are cloth coverings for your legs and feet, because apparently there are leeches in the national park).  The scenery was absolutely gorgeous and followed by a delicious plate of kauw pad (fried rice).  As we went to get in the van, though, I noticed I was bleeding on my foot, so the med kit was grabbed so that I could bandage my apparent leech wound. It wasn’t until we were ten minutes on the road that I noticed I was bleeding on my thigh as well, and friends in the back of the van simultaneously found a huge leech on the ground. I suppose I, too, am delicious. All is fine, the leech was killed and cleaned up, and I was bandaged. Needless to say, mai pen rai (it’s all good / no problem—and a popular Thai phrase at that).

We started Thai class this week, and wow, is it a difficult language. Sure, they don’t have verb conjugations, but they have tones for each word. Use the wrong tone, and it’s a different word. So, although I will throw in some random Thai in these posts, it is not really helpful without audible dictation.

rice paddies in Thailand

The final stop before coming to Khon Kaen University, and our apartments, was a homestay in a weaving village. I was with one other girl, and together, we maybe understood 10%. Communication was not easy, and all our Meh (mom) wanted to do was feed us and have us take an abb naam (shower). However, in the course of 24 hours, we had a fresh coconut and grapefruit picked off a tree for us, ate fresh peanuts, and helped farm rice, pulling up the plants in the paddy. I also was attacked by my host mom with baby powder (which has the affect of Icy-Hot here). Before we left, some of us spent a few hours playing with the kids at school. My favorite game was their version of Duck Duck Goose, which involves a shirt instead of patting heads and a very catchy song. We were running around, slipping on the dirt, and finally “communicating” with Thais.

playing duck duck goose

It has been a long week, filled with surprises and adventure. I finally have met my roommate and moved in, and she is so cool. She is an English major, so communication is fairly simple. We were welcomed last night through a traditional Thai welcoming ceremony and we have a short weekend break before heading off to the Railroad community on Sunday.

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Lack of Communication

August 9, 2011

So finally, I was in Australia. After making it through customs and only almost losing my passport once, I was ready to hitch a ride and go to the house I would be staying at. I was even planning on staying with my friend from Richmond who was also studying abroad in Melbourne. Now I just had to meet him, his flight from Japan would be landing within the half hour and he had already made free airport pickup reservations…for himself and I was going to try to mooch off of him. I looked up at the digitized schedule board which, fun fact, are apparently known as Solari boards (named after the display manufacturer) for an incoming flight from Japan. And of course, with my luck, out of over 20 options I couldn’t see one flight from Japan. I sat down and waited for the options to roll over, it was still early. That lasted about five minutes. I then made a much better decision to go ask where I could find an incoming flight from Japan. I walked up to the information booth patting myself on the back for my sure stroke of…rationality.

Me: “Hello? Hey, I was just wondering when the next flight from Japan was”
Information Assistant: “Oh of course, one second please”
Computer: “Beep-beep. Beep”
Information Assistant: “there aren’t any”

What was I going to do? We hadn’t exchanged flight information, nor did we have phones to call one another on. I couldn’t live in the airport! The food is overpriced and any purchase would just be economically unsound. I immediately ceased my back-patting, feeling my back no longer deserved the reward of a job well done. I was doomed.

Information Assistant: “Is it possible that it’s a domestic flight?”
Polite-Me: “No, I don’t think so. He’s flying from Japan.
Information Assistant: “To Melbourne?”
Just-Had-An-Epiphany Me: “No I’m pretty sure he’s flying to Sydney first and then to… oh…wow”
Smiling Information Assistant: “Domestic is just that way.”
Determined Me: “Thank you!”
Information Assistant: “No-”

I was already gone. It was at this point that I finally understood what people did before technology. Panicked and Ran. I quickly made my way to domestic arrivals and looked at the arrivals screen for flights from Sydney. There were about five. I decided to casually pace back and forth between the luggage conveyor belts and just smile at people, all while waiting for the next flight to arrive 20 minutes later. In hindsight, if there was ever a man who looked as if he was going to be reported for suspicious activity in an airport, this would definitely be that guy. Time was passing with no signs of my friend. Then I saw her, the woman with the highlighter yellow and lime green sign around her neck that said overseas students. I ran to her…and stood awkwardly next to her until she said something.

Driver: “Hello! Are you an international student?
Me: “YES!”
Driver: “are you attending the University of Melbourne?”
Me: “YES!”
Driver: “Ok great! What’s your name?”
Me: “…”

Ok so I hadn’t really thought this completely through. I looked at her checklist out of the side of my eye and knew I wasn’t on there. On the other hand, I knew someone who was. Still, I couldn’t just take his reservation and strand him. Plus, there was no way she’d believe that both my passport and driver’s license conveniently had typos and they just got my name wrong.

Driver: “…”
Me: “…Uh…Shohsei…Oda?”
Driver: “…Ok great! Grab your things and come with me”

Or maybe she’d just take my word for it. But I couldn’t, with good conscience, leave my friend (and housemate) without a ride. Especially since he booked it himself and I was taking it.

Me: “Wait, he’s my friend. I’m just meeting him here. We’re going to the same place so I was hoping I could just get a ride as well?”

Long story short, honesty is the best policy. We found Shohsei who had missed his Sydney to Melbourne flight because of customs and I was able to get a ride with the shuttle service. Unfortunately, the shuttle service was only free around the city, which our home was 30 minutes away from, and we both had to end up paying. Still, it wasn’t as much as a taxi and we were finally at this place that we would soon learn to call home…and people we would soon call by their first names because calling them mom and dad would just be awkward. Oh right, did I mention we were doing a home stay?

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