Getting Around
Bid Term has been a pleasant change of pace from a month of teaching. It started out on an excellent note two weeks ago, when I first visited the hospital to begin learning about HIV/AIDS programs. My two counterparts, Pee Tay and Pee Nong, run the hospital’s HIV/AIDS patient support program and are also involved in education programs. The two women are both friendly and helpful; I feel fortunate to have such great counterparts.
I felt a little nervous when I arrived at the hospital, not really knowing what they had planned for me or how patients would react to my presence. First, my counterparts took me around the hospital, introducing me to the staff. Then, we visited the HIV ward, where I talked with a couple patients. Before too long, I was in the back of a truck with Pee Tay and two other women, heading out to visit patients at their homes. I was happy to feel so welcomed so quickly, but I was once again feeling a little unsure as to how I would be accepted once we arrived at the different homes.
The patients and their families were all very friendly and hospitable. I did feel a little voyeuristic since I was basically just tagging along, but in the end I felt okay about my presence. We visited one home where a father and his four year old son lived together, both were infected. The mother died two months ago. The father looked healthy, but the child was clearly sick, covered in sores and coughing badly. It was at this home that I felt the most guilt for poking my head around; I felt that I could not do anything to help this family and I was in a sense just playing tourist to these people’s hardship. I have resolved that if I am able to help improve education programs in the community, then occasionally imposing upon these patients will be worth it. Most of the patients we visited seemed happy to have me.
The highlight of my day came in the afternoon when I met a group of HIV+ peer counselors (it was at this time that I figured out that the two women who joined us for home visits were a part of this group). They were all so fun and friendly. We hung out, had lunch and did our best to communicate, though our shortcomings served as a healthy reminder that I need to improve my language skills.
Last week I travelled to Chantaburi, in the Southeast, near Cambodia, to attend an HIV/AIDS Awareness and Life Skills Camp for high school students. The camp was run by an NGO called Rak Thai, and I, along with nine other Peace Corps volunteers, basically just observed and participated.
I was impressed by the people running the camp and their ability to engage the students and discuss in detail subjects that are not commonly addressed in regular Thai society. There were times when activities dragged on too long (we spent at least a third of the camp singing and dancing), but I was amazed at how much the students opened up and became comfortable with each other over the three days.
Another highlight was that the location of the camp, Soi Dao, is home to my new favorite open-air market in Thailand. Most Thai markets stink of fish and meat, but this market was almost free of odor and boasted the best corn that I’ve eaten in Thailand. I ate six ears on the last day.
From Soi Dao, I headed to visit Ryan in Ban Hong. I arrived at 6:30 on Friday morning after one of the least pleasant busrides I have experienced in Thailand. After a short nap, Ryan and I started Tweezer practice. We’ve almost finished learning The Blue Album and are feeling good about gracing the bars of Chiang Mai with our musical prowess. The day came to a quick end around 3 p.m., when we both passed out for about 5 hours. We couldn’t get the train back on the tracks on Friday, but Saturday turned out to be a good day.
Ever since visiting Mae Sai in July and seeing the vast array of airsoft guns for sale at reasonable prices ($4), I have imagined epic gun battles with Ryan in his sizeable abode. In Chantaburi, I came across a pair of small pistols for a good price, and with a visit to Ban Hong just a couple days away, I pulled the trigger, so to speak. This decision provided Ryan and I with an afternoon full of entertainment and a fine collection of pea-sized welts. We played a modified version of one-on-one capture the flag, with each of us winning his fair share, however, for some reason, it seems that Ryan got shot far more often than I did. He also had more swollen spots on his body to show for it.
On Saturday night, we hit up Ban Hong’s rocking karaoke scene. Ryan was a bit tired, so the night ended a little early, but not before I played the drums and graced the audience with my wonderful Axl Rose impression.
This week has been pretty mellow, with not too much work and plenty of free time. The Buddhist equivalent of lent is about to finish, so this past week, there was a special monks’ celebration. On Tuesday night, we went to the wat (temple) to pray, and after prayer, I was lucky enough to meet one of the highly regarded monks of our area. We talked for a while, and he was friendly and surprisingly funny. He gave me a book and a Buddha figure and invited me back to visit the wat.
The following morning, we lined up along the streets to offer food to the monks as they proceeded in a single-file line. The monks walk around town to collect their food every morning, but on this special day, crowds gathered and gave it the feeling of a parade.
That more of less sums up my past couple weeks. Hopefully I’ll get some new pictures up before too long. Also, note that I’ve created a music wishlist, giving all of you the opportunity to fulfill my wishes. Happy birthdays to Magoo and Jess and anyone else I might have forgotten.
Oh yeah, I’m fasting for the next week, consuming only a drink made of lemon juice, honey, water, and red pepper. I’m on day two, and it’s surprisingly easy. The whole thing is supposed to cleanse my system and rejuvenate my liver. In order to avoid lengthy explanations, I’ve been telling the Thai folk that my fasting is in observation of an American holiday. I still get plenty of questions, but I think the excuse makes things infinitely easier.
