Not my Specs

My Thai teacher is a 34 year old shy man who really wants to get married and have kids. “Poo Ying Suay” (beautiful ladies) is the topic of a bout 60% of our conversations in class. Yesterday he was telling me about a date he went on but the girls was ‘not his specs’. Like she’s a computer and has specifications. I found this hilarious. In Thai you actually say “Kao mai SPECS pom” literally “she does not have my SPECS”. I love it.

So nosey me asked why she wasn’t his specs and his immediate answer was “too much self-confidence” which made me throw up a little bit in my mouth. (Dude, you’d hate American chicks). Then he went on to explain to me this proverb about how men should be the front legs of an elephant and women should be the back legs that follow, but this woman wanted to be the front legs! Furthermore she was the same age as him which meant that she didn’t have a lot of childbearing years ahead of her which was unacceptable. So his search for Poo Ying Suay continues. Maybe he could put out a newspaper ad “34 year old Thai man seeks woman with right Specs: preference for being back legs with many childbearing years ahead”. Hilarious.

Unsolicited Phone Numbers

You’ll all be happy to know that my power of acquiring unsolicited North African men’s phone numbers has not abated and knows no geographical limits. (I’ve got another one for our pile Alex…) I was standing on the street in Kuala Lampur waiting to meet up with a Johan (can I state that I really don’t understand how meeting up with people worked before cell phones) and he was late or I was in the wrong spot or something but I needed to try to call him. I went to an info kiosk and asked to use the phone which of course they wouldn’t let me and Salim comes up all distressed and says “do you speak French?” which the kiosk woman didn’t but I did so I translated for him so that he could get directions back to his hotel. Then the Mediterranean man in him entered:

Salim: “now you have done me a service, allow me to do you a service- may I buy you a drink?”
Laura: “no thank you”
Salim: “coffee? Beer? Tea ? "
Laura: "It’s really not necessary"
Salim: " Ah but it is necessary ! There must be something I can do for you "
Laura’s brain : " yeah, go away!"
Laura’s voice: “Fine, can I use your cell phone?”
Salim: “I don’t have one, but there’s a mall! I’ll buy you a cell phone!”
Laura : “No no no. Really not necessary”
Salim: “It IS necessary!”
Laura: “I’ll just go back to my hostel and use the phone there”
Salim: “I’ll come with you Miss”
Laura: “oh no. I don’t think so and it’s Mrs. I’m married”
Salim: “to an Arab?”
Laura: “no, to an American”
Laura’s brain: ‘thank God you put your ring on the left hand today’

At some point it became clear that it didn’t really matter what I said, he was going to go wherever I went. He seemed harmless and it gave me an opportunity to practice my French and Arabic. I found myself speaking Arabic but answering “ka” (yes in Thai) instead of “eh” (yes in darija) which must have confused him. He came back to the hostel, watched me call Johan, and walked me back to meet him while in the interim giving me his phone number in Algeria “for when you want to visit me” and his hotel room number. Managed to shake him only when I found Johan. Whole interaction was slightly annoying, highly amusing, and sprinkled with nostalgia for the Morocco days when this happened three times a day.

Weekend in KL

Returned from a marvelous sleepless weekend in KL, the birthplace of one Shaharris H Beh (why is H the best fake middle initial?). I was given an interminable list of things I was supposed to eat and sadly only accomplished checking off about half of them but then again there are only three meals in a day.

Day one consisted of getting myself thoroughly lost in the kind of way that only I can do. I’m so confident that with a map I can walk anywhere but KL got the best of me. Really not the world’s best walking city. Know how in dramatic desert movies the exhausted heroes at the point of collapse realize that they’ve actually been walking in circles? This happened to me, twice. I need GPS implanted into my brain.

Day two consisted of climbing high things. Petronas towers and Menara tower for bird’s eye views of the city, the latter bird being much higher up. The Petronas towers honestly weren’t that cool but what was phenomenal was waiting in line for two hours to get the tickets. Not a hint of sarcasm in Laura-who-has-the-attention-span-of-a-two-year-old’s voice. There were tourists from all over the world cramped into a small space that was supposed to have a ‘snaking queue’ without any of those little barrier things. So this was great because some cultures are very serious about their lines and orderly progression of such things while other cultures really don’t do lines at all. I watched this incredibly clash between and Indian woman who just sort of slipped in the line and a German man whose sense of self was offended by such a maneuver. He told the ticket seller on her and got her sent back to the end of the line from where she simply slid into another part of the line two seconds later. I think steam actually came out of the German guys’ ears. This went on for an hour, he’d get her sent back, she’d sneak back in. It was great. If she budged me I would totally have let her just out of shear awe of her persistence and due to the comical nature of it all. I sort of wanted to say to each of them “it’s a line! Get over it!” but instead chuckled to myself each time the event repeated themselves.

Day three involved grand plans to explore the Lake Gardens. They started with an aborted effort to walk there (didn’t learn my lesson on Day 1) and a phenomenal taxi ride to actually get there. I got in the taxi with this insanely old Hadj who gave me a long lecture on how Malaysia used to be and how it’s changing and what the future will hold. It was fascinating. So much so that when we arrived at the destination, we sat in the cab for another half hour talking (more him talking, me listening). We covered religion, consumerism, polygamy, the education system, and family planning. I forgot how much I love taxi drivers.

Upon arriving at the gardens I got my white pants filthy because frankly I’m not the kind of person who sees a tree swing and says “I better not swing on that because I have to walk through mud to get there and I’m wearing white pants”. Swing was totally worth it and I nearly had a heart attack when I realized I didn’t bring a pen with me so my romantic notions of journal writing in the shade of a tree with the smell of orchids wafting through the air was ruined!

I consoled myself by visiting the butterfly park wherein I got to see beautiful butterflies up close. The catch is they are not really beautiful up close, they look like bugs. Only when they are floating through the sky with shocks of color are they attractive creatures. Maybe Mother Nature was pissed at my sharp judgment of her creatures because it began to downpour. I found shelter under this tiny arch between the lizard cages where I stayed for the hour that it rained. I mostly had staring contests with the lizards and sang songs since the rain drained out my voice so only I could hear. I was actually quite contented. I love thunder storms and the lighting must have been right on top of us. After a full hour the staff of the Butterfly Park decided to send a guy out with umbrellas to rescue all the guests who were stranded under various structures.

My evenings were filled with the delightful company of Shaharris’s friends. Apparently all of Shaharris’s friends are named Johan with varying numbers of final N’s. They are all also wonderful and not just because Johann-two-n’s has my blog address :) If anyone is rolling through KL in August I hear there is a phenomenal play cast with rising stars about the life of the first Prime Minister.

Johann-two-n’s took me to a great dance performance of the traditional dances of different ethnic groups in Malaysia. It made me totally wish I was blessed with grace. The final piece was a modern dance about the balance of freedom and boredom which I don’t pretend to totally understand but there were some neat body movements that were particularly expressive. Fun fact: there are café’s entirely dedicated to board games. This is my kind of place. While I may be lifetime banned from playing spider solitaire, minesweeper, and boggle, there is no rule that I can’t start new obsessions.

Johan-one-n and I had a somewhat tumultuous attempt at meeting up that involved an Algerian man (see other entry) but when we finally connected we had a great time eating delicious food and driving around. Sad fact: apparently a little old man at Honda with a large sheet of paper covered in sketches and formulas did not design my car for me. Instead the company contracted out to massive firms like the one Johan works for to design different pieces of each vehicle. So much less romantic. I have also newly been inspired by him to do a proper tour of Australia for a few months if anyone’s interested.

My weekend ended with a really long wait (since I’m me and get places wicked early) in the low cost carrier terminal of the airport (read: crappy uncomfortable, cold, loud terminal). After a long delay, I flew out and when straight to work to be a zombie all day.

Autopilot

When learning a new language, I stupidly am on autopilot to answer "yes" to every question before I really process what is being asked of me. This is great sometimes bc it gives people the illusion that I can understand them quickly instead of the truth which is I have to search my mental dictionary for words in each sentence. However it got me in annoying trouble yesterday.

I buy Thai Iced tea from this woman around the corner from work and yesterday I asked for some and she said something and I recognized all the words but couldn't attach meaning to them before my autopilot activated and I say "Ka". Just as she started to laugh awkwardly I decoded the sentence and realized that she had said "you are a beautiful lady" and sounding like an arrogant punk I replied "yes". You'd think that would have taught me but then she asked me a question and I knew it was about how I wanted my drink but couldn't remember my taste vocab so again just said "ka" and then she kept talking and said " i know foreigners don't like their tea sweet" so I had agreed to take my tea without sugar. Stupid autopilot!

This means I have to find a new Thai Iced tea woman because not only will this one think I'm arrogant but she will also continue to make me sugarless tea which is just awful.

Some signs of Singapore

The battle between my camera and computer has seen a ceasefire so I was able to upload almost half of my photos. The standoff between my computer and Blogspot has been less successful and only two of these would upload... more to come.















This is the special hybrid orchid named after Ricky Martin.















What does this mean?

Article: Stagnant but Hopeful

Thailand hosts over 150,000 refugees from neighboring Myanmar in nine camps along the border. In four such camps Planned Parenthood Association of Thailand (PPAT) takes charge of the reproductive health services. I was invited to attend a routine visit to the refugee camps and excitedly accepted. Non-refugees are not allowed to stay in the camps so all the staff of the reproductive health centers are refugees that have been trained to provide services. Nurses, like the ones I was traveling with, stop by to handle the larger problems once a month.

We passed heavily armed soldiers and fences to enter the camp. Ten years ago there had been some attacks on a camp so safety was a concern. They smiled and inspected my passport and special permission card and lifted the red and white bar so the car could pass. We drove down a dirt road lined with bamboo huts on either side packed tightly together. We were in a valley with steep hills on either side and as I looked up I saw houses upon houses until the jungle got too thick for more.

The PPAT center looked like any of the houses. It was raised on stilts with bamboo floors and a banana leaf roof. The walls were covered with pictures of genitalia with various infections and cartoons about safe sexual practices. Inside equipment was sparse with a manual blood pressure machine, a scale, and two small examination rooms. While the nurse did pelvic exams, I worked with the peer educators teaching them computer skills on the donated PC in the back room and chatting about our respective lives.

While shy at first the men and women in their early twenties began to warm up to me as I showed them pictures of my family (which I always keep in my bag as an ice breaker). My friends were so tall! How old was my grandfather? Was this your house? Eventually they also shared with me. It was astonishing to think that we were the same age but they had been married, had children, and had experienced some horrific events in their lives already. My twenty four years seemed incredibly easy in comparison but I suppose it’s unwise to compare.

They were able to joke with me, “If I go back to Myanmar, boom! Landmines, I’ll have no legs!” one said in fits of laughter. A young man explained to me that he was very lucky because his parents had been resettled in Norway. However he didn’t seem phased by the fact that this meant he would never see them again. One of the young men started the trip to the camp with his family of six but was the only one to make it. Another woman said she had been born in the camp and never knew any other life. I had to fight hard not to be overwhelmed with sadness for my new friends.

While clearly an improvement from the places they had escaped, life in the camp was stagnant. The farming lives they had once enjoyed were over as the camps were crowded and there was no land to farm. Instead people had to depend on the food and supplies given to them by the camp administration. There was little employment and thus no way to proactively better their situation. The peer educators were lucky in that PPAT employed them which brought in a little money and gave them something to do. For the most part everyone expressed a feeling of waiting. They were waiting for a third country to welcome them so they could start a new life.

I stupidly asked, “what third country do you want to go to?” to which the response was invariably “whoever accepts me first!” Norway, Canada, and Australia seemed to have been the countries who had been most generous to the refugees as each person knew someone who had managed to get there. For this reason people were excited to practice English with me so they’d be ready if an Anglophone country accepted their application for resettlement.

Two of the peer educators had just been accepted by Canada for resettlement and were full of questions like “How many seasons are there?” and “will I be close to the water?” It was so heartening to hear their excitement for their future prospects.

I also got a glimpse of a source of joy in camp life when I toured a music school set up by a Dutch NGO. It was bursting with adolescent boys playing old guitars. I sang a song with them and practiced the four sentences I had learned in the Karen language which is spoken by the majority of the refugees.

Unfortunately the sun began to set and I had to leave in accordance with the camp regulations. I had so much stimulation to process and so many emotions to work through. I left behind all the business cards I had hoping that someday some of these people might contact me with a story of success or a way I can help.

Article: Girl Scout Camp Didn’t Prepare Me For This

I have been on a lot of crappy dirt roads before. I have also been on a lot of roads that are too narrow and on cliffs. However, just last week I finally experienced the incredible combination of these two, with a strong dose of downpour to make things worse. I’m not generally afraid of heights but I am afraid of sliding in the mud off of a cliff. This occurrence nearly happened several times on my way out to a village near the border of Myanmar.

Apparently at random parts of the road some villagers get together and decide to pave a ten by ten square. I guess this is like the concept of an add-a-pearl necklace where you buy what you can afford and string it together for a final product. It will be lovely when there are enough of these concrete squares to warrant the use of the word “road” (I currently consider what we drove on to be ‘a place that happened to not have trees’). I would have welcomed some concrete around the sharp muddy curves on the cliffs-- the one place I didn’t welcome it was about a mile from the village we were staying in because it meant that we couldn’t drive and instead had to walk. What’s best is that the concrete was wet so we couldn’t walk on it and there was a maximum of five inches of earth between the end of the concrete and the beginning of the cliff. Thankfully I had always been good at the balance beam in Phys Ed but it is quite a bit more difficult when carrying gear because the closest store is three hours down the mountain.

A long trek that included walking on a log across a stream (I’ve always wanted to do that, just not while carrying two backpacks) brought us to a steep hill atop which lay the house where we were staying. It was entirely wood and on stilts and looked comfortable enough. However, the shower on stilts should not be entered by anyone with a fear of heights. There were inch wide spaces between the boards and if you looked down while showering it could make you woozy. You were never really sure where the ground was as the jungle growth was thick.

People are pretty meticulous about their bathing so despite my predilection for the ‘antibacterial lotion’ bath in situations like these, I needed to actually get myself wet. The water was freezing and not always particularly clean-looking. It required significant psyching myself up to actually stick my head under the cold water. There was certainly no ‘wash rinse repeat’. I guess I should have appreciated the fact that this was the first time I was actually cold in this country.

After the shower, when it was dark out and I’d washed off my insect repellant, was a perilous time as I ran back to the house frantically slapping away mosquitoes. The malaria threat is high so mosquito nets are essential and require a little getting used to. Hanging the nets from cords on the ceiling you create a little space just big enough to sleep under if you don’t roll around. But getting in and out of that space without letting any of the blood sucking vectors inside your safe-zone can be challenging. It involves lots of swatting and inspecting every inch of you and then quickly diving under and tucking the nets beneath you. As a coworker who used to work in malaria epidemiology explained “if there’s a space or a hole in your net, the mosquitoes will find it and not because they’re smart, but because they’re too dumb to ever give up.”

I spent the entire night awake listening to the rain and dreading what it was doing to the roads we’d have to travel the next day.

Throughout my stay in the village I did a pretty good job being “Rugged Laura”. I didn’t jump when I saw the biggest spider I’ve ever seen in my life (zoos included) in the bathroom. I didn’t have qualms with the fact that there was no refrigeration yet we seemed to eat pork every day. I didn’t even mind soaking in caustic insect repellant and boiling water in order to brush my teeth. I was pretty proud of myself. Then, on my last day on the way out of the village, my ‘tough girl’ image was shattered.

I slid on my backside all the way down a muddy hill. My flip-flops died an immediate death. Flip-flops are the only practical thing to wear in most situations in Thailand since it rains without notice and shoes are taken off frequently to be polite. However, I found the situation where they are not appropriate-- muddy, hilly, rural villages. Cleats would have been a better choice of footwear. Ultimately my flip’s inadequacy sent them to the grave as their lack of traction caused the fall that did them in. My pants died a slower death. The fall left a solid mud stain on my rear so that everyone in the village who hadn’t gotten to witness my fall could see the evidence as I walked by. Once I was home, I maintained hope that the pants could be resurrected and washed them four times. It was not to be. Sine I didn’t take any pictures on this trip, I guess my permanently muddy-assed jeans are my souvenir.

I Am Stupid

I just realized that every time someone asks me how long I'll be in Thailand I always say, "just for the summer". It dawned on me yesterday that this was stupid. It's not summer here, there is no such thing as summer here... people must be really polite when they nod and pretend to understand. I should say "for the first half of the rainy season".

In other news, I am constantly tempted to ask questions that I know are stupid but pique my curiosity anyway. For instance, I want to ask people, "how often do toddlers fall off of motorcycles? How do you teach them to hold on? Do they have better balance than other children? Is there a trick?" because to me it seems really dangerous to ride motorcycles with infants, toddlers, and little kids. But that's the main source of transportation so I'm wondering if there's some secret, like "we feed them this nutritional supplement that enhances their balance" or "we have a practice motorcycle at home where we train them". In the US we keep our kids belted in to a special seat in vehicles that are enclosed already! How do these children stay safe straddling an open vehicle gripping mom's shirt?

I've suppressed the urge to inquire because I think it will be a question in the same realm as "how do you know which goats are yours?" in Morocco or "do the kids get hurt on all the barbed wire around your house?" in El Salvador. It would invoke that classic look that says 'silly foreigners... stop worrying, we've got this all figured out'.

I can talk!

Does anyone remember that scene in the animated version of Charlotte's Web when Wilbur finally learns how to talk to the other animals? He sings this song called "I can talk!" Well anyway, I skipped down my street singing that song the other day bc I had this conversation with my cleaning lady entirely in Thai that involved no miscommunication and I managed to convey complex (in my mind) information about where I had been and where I was going in a language that doesn't have tenses. I was so proud of myself!

" Isn't it great
That I articulate?
Isn't it grand
That you can understand?

I don't grunt, I don't oink
I don't even squeak or squawk
When I wanna say a something
I open up and talk"

Laura’s Vastly Insufficient and Uninformed Guide to Singapore

• Hit the Botanical Gardens in the AM and there are huge bunches of elderly people doing Tai Chi which seems so graceful and natural in the setting… walk further and find the one bunch who does country line dancing instead of Tai Chi- no laughing out loud.

• Watch out for the Mall traps in Singapore. Every time you get off a subway, you will magically be in a mall, every time you use and underpass or an overpass, you will end up in a mall. Beware.

• There’s really no reason to ride the subway most of the time. The entire city can be walked on foot. The exception to this is if you are riding the subway as a source of amusement, which I highly suggest. There are some fantastic public service movies and posters that are worth checking out and surreptitiously photographing.

• Like most cities Chinatown is the most interesting place. However Little India on a Sunday night gets a little Bolly…

• Hawker stalls are the only place you should eat.
  

• If you are a young professional man you must have a slight faux-hawk

• Eat “black carrot cake”. It is neither a cake, nor black, nor contains any form of carrots that I am familiar with, but it tastes delightful.

• If you are so so lucky you might come across a COSPLAY competition in which people dress up as anime or video game characters (hey, we have trekkies…)

• Eat blocks of ice cream between wafers. You can even get them between slices of white bread. Try the corn flavor. Why don’t we have corn flavored ice cream? Everyone likes corn! Plus then you feel good bc it’s like your getting your daily vegetable supply while eating ice cream.

• If you are so lucky to visit while the “infectious diseases past and present” exhibit is still up in the National Library, go play the “bioterrorists attack!” videogame. As time ticks down you have to answer one bioterrorism quiz question at each terrorist hot spot (mall, airport…) to save Singapore! Pretty exciting.

• Take advantage of the fact that people here speak English and talk talk talk. Eat lunch near a nursing home and talk to the old people, they are delightful.

• Leave after 3 days, there’s really not that much to do (unless you’re a shopper)

Grams

At lunch a tiny old woman sat down next to me and she was delightful. Her ulna was visible through her nearly transparent skin, she was ancient. She spoke softly but quickly in ¾ English and I probably understood about half of what she said but she was so spirited! She loves foreigners…She’s so proud that people from big countries want to come visit her small country…She is all alone but has no problem… It is good not to rely on other’s support…Every Monday she talks to ???? and learns things… I should go to the temple on Mondays at 2:30 to talk…She goes to the churches and the temples… Can’t decide which she likes best… She’s so happy to meet me… Her old boss was so nice… He still sends her Christmas cards…He took good care of her… took her to business dinners even though she never finished High School…She’s old so she likes to chat chat chat… I can leave if I’m busy (I didn’t want to leave)… She spoke about growing up under the Japanese occupation and I didn’t understand most of what she was saying but enjoyed her stories anyway. I stayed way after my meal was over and got the most sincere send off when I left. I could tell that I made her day by listening to her and she made my day too by being so friendly.

Jayrunning

Jaywalking seems to be taken very seriously here. There are extensive underpasses and overpasses (which might just be ploys to get you into malls) and some taxis are painted with Jaywalking Kills! in bright letters. I guess there’s a campaign whose slogan is “a minute to save, a lifetime to lose”… pretty dramatic. Furthermore when masses of people are bunched around a corner waiting to cross, they all file to be exactly within the confines of the crosswalk when the light changes. All this being said, I did see two teenagers jaywalk, or rather they jay ran with the half-thrilled half-petrified faces of children who stick their fingers in the frosting of a birthday cake and know they are going to get spanked… I wonder if spanking is involved in the punishment for jaywalking here?

Bevs

So since beverages are cheap they are a major source of expirimentation for me in new places. I like to try to drink everything they have to offer, especially if it is served in a plastic bag. Here are my Singapore discoveries:

Milo: This is Nestle Quik, I don't know why it has a different name.

Barley Juice: Not too much flavor but one of the cheaper things you can drink.

100 Plus: This canned soda can be avoided from now on. I don't know what type of fruit juice it was trying to imitate and add carbonation to, but my breath still smells bad.

Sugar Cane: So cool because they actually run the sugar cane through a press right in front of you and litterally hand you a bag of the juice that comes out. Fabulous.

Water Chestnut Juice: If your saying to yourself "I like water chestnuts, maybe this will be good" you are sorely mistaken. I'm a big water chestnut fan but the murky greyish-brown juice it produces is really nasty.

Durian Ice Cream: Okay this isn't a bev... Here you get a big slice of ice cream between two wafers or two pieces of white bread for a Singapore Dollar so I'm all about this. I tried all the good flavors and then decided I had to do the durian. The fruit I know only by reputation that I can't buy in Thailand bc it only comes in massive quantities. So I wussed out and just tried the ice cream flavor... not terrible. Not in my top 35 favorite ice cream flavors, but not terrible.

Alas my beverage tasting tour of Singapore is through... maybe I'll have time to try "Horlick" at the airport but I think that's pretty much the only mystery out there. (Shaharris? Paxon? care to enlighten me?)

Mall Madness

I am not a shopper. I do not get great joy from purchasing things. I'm not even good at purchasing things that I actually like. I know better than to ever shop on my own. This is just unheard of here.

It was raining yesterday morning so I asked the guy who runs the hostel what I could do on a rainy day. "SHOPPING!" he said excitedly, which I nixed. He looked confused and then offered "Window shopping?" I went over to the stack of brochures and a full 5 minutes later he said "Oh, I forgot, we have some museums too" which he had clearly never been to.

This is Singapore. It's a place to shop. There are so many malls that it is dizzying. In fact I have gotten trapped in malls at least 4 times. You see, Singapore is a big fan of the underpass. Pretty much anywhere you want to go there is an underpass to take you there. Except whenever you enter an underpass, you come up in a mall. Similarly, whenever you get off the subway, you exit into a mall. And then you just can't get out. You can't find ground level, no one else seems to be interested in leaving, and when there is an exit, it looks like a regular old wall that happens to open when you walk by.

I am going to have nightmares of malls.

the smell sucker

We have a machine to capture instantaneous views, we can record live sounds, what we need is a way to capture smells. While at the botanical garden there wasn’t a thing I wanted to take a picture of (except the line dancers) but if I had a little machine to vacuum up the smell… I bet this smell taker will be invented at some point, we’ve managed to lend permanence to sight and hearing, we’ve got three senses to go.

Subways in Singapore

There are signs above the seats that say "give this seat to someone who needs it more than you do". Also on the track there are signs that say "Value Life. Act Responsibly". It's like there are little mom's everywhere in sign form.

Is 'alight' a secret word that everyone else knows except for me? Because it's not impossible that there is a specific term for getting off a subway that everyone uses regularly but for some reason they never use around me... I'd like some feedback here.

The subway also annouced that it would be terminating at the next stop which made me picture Arnold Schwarzeneggar with a bazooka waiting at the next stop to blow it up.

If there's one thing that Singapore Subways do right it's the public service announcement. In the station there was a sign that said "8 out of 10 accidents in this station involved the escalator, 8 out of 10 of the escalator accidents involve people aged 50-80, 5 out of 10 elevator accidents result from not holding the rail - what can you do to help? Remind the elderly to hold on or direct them to the elevator" INGENIOUS. Evidence based, specific solution given, direct and clear message. Is it weird that this sort of thing excites me.

There is a fine on the subway if you bring durians (smelly fruit). There is actually a sign with four pictures of things you can't bring, guns, dogs, beverages, and durians. I love it.

I almost missed my stop bc I was so engrossed in the public service video about terrorism. It went through graphic pictures and casualty listings for the bombings of Madrid, London, and Mumbai and said "don't let this happen to us". It was brimming with buzz words and just fantastic. There was a great skit:
Version 1: A nervous guy carrying a "bulky" and "heavy" bag pushes it under the seat and ALIGHTS and then detonates the bomb with his cell phone as soon as the train pulls away. The CG explosion was absurd.
Version 2: A "vigilant" passenger yells to the man "hey, you forgot your bag!" and he denies that it's his which she thinks is suspicious bc she took note of the "bulky" and "heavy" bag when he came on. She runs to the emergency box and tells the conductor who says "thank you for alerting us, we will evacuate at the next stop taking care to assist the old, young and disabled" and that is the happy ending. Yay for vigilant passengers!
The only problem is that in version 1 the explosion happened immediately after he ALIGHTED so in the happy version 2 where they evacuated it would have been too late and they'd all be dead anyway... Am I the only person who is bothered by the inconsistencies?

PDA

I vastly prefer countries in which public displays of affection are embraced (yeah I know...). It makes the environment so much more inviting when there is evidence of love everywhere. Maybe I wouldn't go as far as France where people are actually making it and not just showing it... but a healthy amount of love (hand holding, gentle whispering) makes places more appealing.

Random

We really get screwed in the US when it comes to fruit. We get like 1% of what's out there. Where are the lychees? the rambutans? the jackfruit? the dragonfruit? and most importantly the Poo Lae Pineapples?
We don't get fruit with vibrant colors and barely any with spikes... no fun.
I'm doing my best to eat every piece of fruit I can find to make up for the sad selection I'll find at home...






A sign made for those of us who are literacy-challenged...
Notice the sign is for kilometers per hour and not miles per hour...
And this isn't exaggerated social marketing, I did see three cars flipped off the side of the road...







Look at me! I can see Thailand, Laos, and Myanmar at the same time...
This is the Golden Triangle, renowned for it's Opium trade...
This is stop two of "Laura needs a new Visa" trip to Myanmar...
















Okay- I suck at documenting my adventures with photographs. I never want to whip out my camera when something cool happens or I see something beautiful. And when I do my pix come out blurry and awful. So guess you'll have to use your imaginations (or wait until Noah comes and takes good pictures of everything)

Food Gifts

Okay- I've finally figured out the sudden and intense amount of food gifts I have received. First a recap:

-Monday night security guard randomly brings me a bag of spicey salad at 8pm
-Tuesday coworker gives me a corn waffle after I just get back from eating lunch
-Tuesday coworker stops by my office to give me fruit
-Tuesday as I'm leaving work coworker hands me two bananas
-Wednesday AM I'm ushered upstairs to the break room to eat breakfast and everyone hands me balls of sticky rice and insists that I try some of each persons breakfast...

It wasn't until yet another coworker came up to me and pinched my waist that I realized what's going on...

I'm losing weight here (in an entirely healthy way) because I exercise so much now that I actually have spare time. So everyone here is worried about me and thinks that I'm ill/homesick/don't know how to feed myself. Not sure how to explain/convince them otherwise but in the mean time I guess being spoiled rotten isn't so terrible...

Article: A Little Bit of Power, One Injection at a Time

We pile into a Toyota four by four, crank up the AC and the radio, and hit the road. The windy road makes me thankful that I popped a few Dramamine before embarking on this three hour trip. While accustomed to three hour drives with a car packed to maximum capacity on my way back to school, this trip was different- this was a road trip with a cause.
I had been invited to observe a Mobile Health Clinic that brings reproductive health services to the Hill Tribe people of Northern Thailand. These people are mostly refugees from neighboring Myanmar and their undocumented status and geographic location make it difficult for them to obtain medical attention through the formal system. The unit goes to them to do PAP tests, education on self-breast exams, and family planning. This particular trip was for contraception. Every three months the truck, staffed with three nurses (and today one observer) hits the road to bring injections of Depo-Provera and packs of oral contraceptives to women in remote areas.
The double-yellow lines on the road seem like more of a suggestion than a rule as we pass cars, trucks, motorcycles, and busses alike. I am briefly nostalgic for traffic police who at least curb some of the impulses of crazy drivers; though this ends when I mentally sum the fines I have paid for speeding tickets in the US and convert it into Thai Baht (I could easily live her for months on the sum). There is no seatbelt in the back seat of the truck so instead of worrying I just let the Dramamine put me to sleep.
Sleeping is no longer possible when we run out of highway and hit the dirt. I’m not even sure that what we drive through could be adequately described as potholes, perhaps ‘moguls’ is the more appropriate term. Now I understand why we needed four-wheel drive for this trip.
We start our ascent up a bumpy hill and pass through lychee groves and lose all our momentum as we stop and get out to grab some fresh lychees to eat. As our driver expertly shifts the two stick-shifts (why does he need two of them?) all I can think is “we certainly didn’t learn how to do this in my five-hour driving course.”
As we get closer to the top of the hill the driver honks the horn as we pass each cluster of huts to alert the women that we have arrived. We drive through a small village and stop in front of the convenience store that sells sausages, junk food, cold beverages, and plastic containers. The shop owner clears off a table for us and before we can set up 40 women dressed in red traditional clothing with sequins and colorful belts are lined up. They all produce ratty yellow cards with their names, ID numbers, and a stamp for each time they come. One by one we dig up their medical records, take a brief medical history and send them over to the nurse (who has set up as sterile a field as possible given the situation) for injections.
The highlight for the women is being weighed on the scale. It is neat that something as simple as a bathroom scale can be such a huge attraction. While I am pretty useless when it comes to taking medical histories and giving injections, numbers are universal so I am charged with recording weights. This task gives me a lot of practice with my numbers in Thai between about 40 and 90 (since we weigh them in kilos).
Our task is completed within an hour and we pack up while women clutch sore arms and the children play with the empty cardboard boxes left over from the supplies. It seems that each woman lingering around has a small child clinging to her skirt. The national goal is to have families with two well-spaced children. The logo on the side of our truck consists of the silhouettes of a happy family of four. In order for this goal to be achieved by those who are interested, services like the ones the Mobile Clinic offer are essential. While these women may not be in control of all of their circumstances— they cannot time when the rains will come to nurture their crops and they cannot dictate the market demands for the wares that bring them their only income— at least, with this help, they can choose when to have children.
As we drive away I feel like I am part of something so meaningful. I feel like we gave these women a little more power in their lives, one injection at a time.

How hot is it? It is so hot...

...that I put on deodorant before I go to sleep...
…that all I can think to do when I get home from work is to strip off my clothes and walk in slow circles around my room following the path of the rotating ceiling fan…
…I am always offered two glasses of ice when I order a bottle of water because the ice in the first one will melt way before I have a chance to drink the whole 8oz bottle…
…when I am a klutz and spill water down the front of me it evaporates before anyone can notice…
…The word ‘air conditioner’ has been Thai-afied and everyone calls it Aer…
…Every restaurant sign that has AC advertises it in the windows in larger font than the actual name of the place…

The People in My Life Part Sorng

Having just shut the door after interacting with security guard I realized that I left some very important people out of the last entry. Also, I have had some formative experiences with some of the people that should be added, so here’s the next installment:

NEW ADDITIONS

Security Guard

He’s maybe five feet tall and works from 7pm to 7am outside my building. For the most part he swats at mosquitoes with an electric tennis racket (I LOVE THESE THINGS). I hear the zapping all night long.

Security guard LOVES me. He picks me berries, he greets me warmly, and he lets me play with his dogs which I actually consider to be my dogs. I bribe the dogs for love by feeding them the little cubes of fat that come on the end of my satay skewers that I thought were pineapple, and well… aren’t. My favorite one walks me to work in the AM. I once gave security guard a chocolate, half to return the favor of all the berries and half because EEE had given me 15 and I was full and he accidentally dropped it and let favorite dog eat it. I spent the night wondering how guilty I’d feel if favorite dog were dead in the morning.

Anyway, for no apparent reason security guard just knocked on my door (and I was lying naked, under the fan, on my bed, analyzing data, because that’s what I do) so I ran around to put clothes on and opened the door and he handed me food and then walked away. Part of the charm of my life here is that I rarely have any idea what exactly is going on. Yes the salad he handed me was the spiciest thing I’ve tasted thus far and my mouth is on fire as we speak, but it was a nice, if unexplained, gesture.

Pee Mom

She’s so maternal. We go on mobile unit trips for a few days at a time and she always brings me clean sheets and gogurt for the car ride. When we walk through town she disappears and comes back with some kind of drink in a bag for me.

She’s such a nurse- when we talk to random people on the street she always asks them how many children they have and what kind of birth control they use. She’s 50 and unmarried which is a fact she brings up often in casual conversation. She was asking me about different words for relationships in English and said “which one means your definitely having sex” and I said “lover” and she said, “oh, I have a lover” and laughed and it was really awkward bc she's my Mom.

Pee Singha

He’s a driver/assistant nurse/cook who goes on the mobile unit trips with us and lets me fill out medical records so he can laugh at my handwriting in Thai. He also drinks one can of beer and spends the next three hours singing.

UPDATES

Ken

I wish I could just stream video of my yoga class to you all every day. It gets weirder and weirder and the few minutes afterward while I’m downing water and getting my shoes are priceless. The other day Ken decided that when I wai (greeting of holding hands together to forehead) I don’t do it flirtatiously enough so he gave me lessons in how to curtsy, bat my eyelids, and smile seductively as I do it.

He has clearly made a mix of his own Yoga music because I’m pretty sure there is nothing on the market that combines instrumentals from Pachabel, Elvis, the Beatles and whoever sings “Country Roads”. Nothing says Eastern Religions like American Country Music.

Cleaning Lady

So every Saturday morning cleaning lady changes my sheets and mops my floor. I like to be in the room when she does it bc I may die if my computer and therefore all my work went missing. I go jogging on Saturday mornings so it’s always hard to communicate to her when I will be back so she can clean. She generally gives me really long instructions that I understand not a word of (I mean, she’s seen my big poster of the Thai alphabet on my wall, doesn’t that scream “beginner”!? ). When I came back from jogging I had totally forgotten about her and stripped down and started stretching with the AC blasting. Cleaning lady walked in on me at the very moment that I was doing a bridge (you know, the laying on your back pelvic thrust thing to work your gluts?) in my underwear. AWKWARD. Now I just leave my door unlocked so she can clean while I’m gone.

Teacher

We were talking about time
(sidebar: so time in Arabic was pretty annoying with the ‘five o’clock and two fives’, and ‘ten o’clock and a third’ but this pales in comparison to how ridiculous telling time in Thai is. The clock is split up into early morning, morning, afternoon, dusk, and night (dusk being entirely subjective) so 7pm is actually ‘one night’… 5pm might be ‘five afternoon’ or ‘five dusk’, depending on if it’s dark outside)
and he was going through his day and what things he does at different times. He left a weird two hour gap between “wake up” and “eat breakfast” so I asked what he did and it took him awhile to find the words in English but they were “bird watching”. Every morning he bird watches for two hours. It was sort of endearing, might have been bc he was wearing the bunny rabbit shirt.

(non PH people skip this paragraph)

SPSS

While officially not a ‘person’ this is probably the single entity that I have the deepest relationship with here. If you’ve never tried, download SPSS and open it up. It is ingenious. Instead of typing PROC FREQ DATA=hw.4; TABLES (Sex Age)*WT; RUN; you just click on the little button that says “frequencies” and then click on whatever variables your heart desires. Makes you sort of angry you learned how to code in SAS.