Personal Feature: The Family Next Door

I've written several times about our neighbors. We were surrounded by many good folks who looked after us during floods, storms, illness, and household maintainance. Some were very loud, true, but for the most part we enjoyed our living situation. The family next door was very important to us throughout our time in Thailand, so I'll write about them today.

Who lived there, just a few feet south of our windows? The list included Ann (red sweater, in photo), her husband Rat, their son Nong Dae, Ann's mother Moon (flowered shirt), her father Som, her nephew Lek, and her older brother Boon. That list varied from time to time, because Rat is in the military and was often off at his post, and Ann sometimes went to join him for a month or two.

Ann was just a year younger than me. She came over to introduce herself on the day we moved in, and was pleased that we would be neighbors. At that time she worked a low-level job at the school district office. Nong Dae was not quite a year old, and he stayed home with his grandmother during the days. But when he started walking and became too much work for his grandmother to handle, Ann quit her job and had to find new ways of making money. During the course of our two years in town, she tried many different projects: making crepes to sell on the street and at local events, taking in laundry, making roasted corn and eggrolls to sell in the town where her husband was posted, raising fish, signing up with Amway to sell household products and cosmetics to the women in town... (It's true, I became an Amway member while I was living in Thailand as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I bought the detergent.) She never seemed to be able to break even, though, and was often stressed about money and how to care for her family. When we left, she was about to start a bread-baking business. We sold her our oven for a very low price, and I tried to find some recipes on the internet that could be modified for Thai ingredients.

Rat was originally from northeastern Thailand. He was one of the nicest Thai men we ever met. He didn't drink alcohol and was quite devoted to his family. He and Ann met in Bangkok and were married several years ago. He was usually gone for 2-3 weeks at a time, and when
he came home he would do all sorts of household projects -- building fences, stairways, and other quality-of-life remodels. He worked hard and didn't get much rest.

We had many happy times with Ann & Rat. Our first Songkran in Thailand, they took us to the parade in town, and guided us home when the drunken teenagers got too rough. Our first New Years, they invited us over for a beer at midnight. We helped celebrate Nong Dae's second birthday, and watched him grow from a crawling baby into an active three-year-old with a strong personality.

This past New Years, we traveled with several Peace Corps friends to Pai, a town in Mae Hong Sorn province that is popular with tourists. It also happens to be where Rat is stationed, as it's near the border with Burma. Ann, Nong Dae, and Mae Moon were living with him at the time, so we were able to all meet for a day and do some touring together. The photo was taken at a park nearby.

There isn't much about life in Thailand that I miss, but I do think often about the people that we knew there. I wonder how they are doing, if Ann has managed to make any money, if Nong Dae has gotten bigger, if there is a threat of flooding this year.

Cheers!

On Friday evening, our neighbors across the street hosted a little dinner gathering for us. For over four hours we sat, chatted, ate, and drank.

I've been fond of this group of people since we first arrived in our town. It was with them that we spent the day of the flood -- on the second story of one of their houses, after escaping from our own -- and I trust them completely. Many of them are semi-related in one way or another, and they break a few of the "rules" of Thai culture, which is part of why I enjoy them so much.

As part of our Peace Corps training, we females were warned that to drink any alcohol in public would be our downfall as volunteers. Thai women who drink are supposedly seen as loose and immoral in this very conservative culture. I adopted this new attitude quite well and, when I did have a half glass of beer during my last week at our host family's home, I felt guilty for days afterward. So, imagine my surprise when, upon our arrival at site in April of 2005, I saw the women across the street drinking merrily every night and not seeming to suffer -- or worry about -- any social consequences.

I later discovered that the supposed social prohibition against women drinking is a bit of a myth these days, as I watched female school district employees, teachers, and others all over our town enjoy alcohol on many occasions. It took me nearly a year before I was willing to ignore the Peace Corps warnings and drink in public, but when I finally did it was with this group. I still feel a bit weird whenever it happens, but on Friday night, I enjoyed the party. For, as you can see from the photo, what's not to enjoy?

Charity, Service, and Giving

Yesterday we attended a couple of ceremonies thanking the American Chamber of Commerce for their donations to two local schools, including one at which I co-teach. The 2005 flood destroyed the school’s library, and the ACC, with some individual and business partners, gave 60,000 baht (about $1500) to help buy new books and furniture. The event gave Robert and I a number of topics to discuss over dinner.

One thing Robert observed, considering yesterday’s event and other opportunities we’ve had to see charitable organizations in action, is that charity seems to work best when it’s designed close to home. World Vision, which I described in an earlier blog, has an office located right in our town and staffed by local people who know exactly what the needs of the community are. As a result, it’s extremely effective at using its available resources to target real needs for the students.

The ACC donation was a joint effort between local school staff and ACC staff in Bangkok. Our principal, realizing a need for library improvement, requested a grant, and American Chamber of Commerce provided the funds. School teachers then used the money to order books, furniture, and supplies. I would like to say that this was also an example of effective targeting of needs, however, in my opinion (which is just, of course, my opinion), while a school library is essential, many of the books purchased with the money are actually not suitable for young children or middle schoolers. But that’s just a small quibble.

Our Peace Corps project is an interesting subject. After spending nearly two years in our town, in schools with students, I have a pretty good sense of what their needs are. I would prioritize education about sanitation, health, nutrition, and life skills (critical thinking, decision-making), especially those that are effective in HIV prevention. English teaching would be near the bottom of my list, after math, Thai, and geography. I have frequently attempted to move in a few different directions. But, the Thai Ministry of Education, located hundreds of miles away in the tall buildings of Bangkok, determines our project goals, and they prefer that we teach English. The teachers have to conform to official requirements. And so we do.

Then, of course, there are the heavily funded and not necessarily effective organizations such as UNICEF that seem to spend lots of money on conferences and fancy cars for select groups of people, with little benefit trickling down to local communities. I can’t say that I know a lot about this, as I haven’t witnessed it first-hand, but I do know that a fancy car for NGO staff doesn’t do my kids a whole lot of good.

What does all this mean? I suppose those of us who give to charity just need to try to make sure that our money is being spent as we intend it to be, to the best of our ability. Sometimes there isn’t much we can do – if local school teachers decide to purchase boring Thai history books without any pictures with their library funds, against the recommendations of their Peace Corps Volunteer, you have to let it be. But I do think that most of us like to think that our money is not being wasted.

Which brings me to my final point. As a line of students was coming forward to receive their free notebooks and pencils from a computer company, the Thai woman next to me – an employee of the Office of Basic Education Commission – turned to me and said, "I don’t understand why foreigners give money to Thai school children. Why don’t rich Thai people do the same thing?" The woman in front of her, a Thai employee of the ACC, turned around and agreed. I wonder it too. I have heard that this is typical of Asian societies: providing assistance or charity to one’s own family is acceptable, even expected, but aiding strangers is seen as downright strange. What is it about Americans – and other classes of foreigners – that makes many of us want to reach out to people we have never or will never meet, to share a bit of what we have? A recent study found that American charitable giving correlates not with political affiliation or liberal/conservative ideology, but with religious participation. Is there something about religion in America that encourages us to be charitable? And why isn’t the same true in Thailand? I have my own ideas... but I’ll save them for another time.

Sponsorship

Before I say anything, let me emphasize that this is NOT a sales plug! My goal is just to inform.

Back in the USA, I often saw commercials on late-night television for charitable organizations of one sort or another, trying to convince viewers to sponsor a child in a third-world country. I never really bought into those things, because who knows where the money ends up?

But as it turns out, there is an office of the Christian organization World Vision here in our little northern Thai town, and they do a lot of good work. At my Monday-Thursday school (pictured), all of the students are sponsored by families through World Vision. At my Tuesday-Friday school, about two-thirds of the students are sponsored.

What does this mean for my kids? Every year, World Vision buys their notebooks, pencils, and other basic supplies. World Vision pays for their school uniforms. If you look closely at the boys' black and orange jackets, you'll see that they have a World Vision label -- the sponsored kids sometimes get additional items of clothing for certain types of weather. World Vision buys books and sometimes even furniture for the school library and other rooms. Last year, when my Tuesday-Friday school was extensively damaged by the flood, World Vision paid for many replacement items.

Additionally, World Vision will occasionally pay for a field trip for the students. Last year I went with 6th graders from six different local schools to a number of sites around our province, with all fees, transportation, and meals paid for by World Vision. They give scholarships to several students every year for study at high schools in our provincial capital. And, my co-teacher informed me today, they hold a World Vision football (soccer) competition every year.

I'm not trying to convince anyone to sponsor a kid through World Vision. However, I did want to point out that if anyone was considering doing so anyway, I can vouch that it really does work!

I thought we were done with this!

Yesterday, in a fit of housekeeping that included washing windows and expelling dozens of spider webs from the ceiling (the spiders weren’t too happy), I decided to finally start unpacking the garbage bags we’ve had sitting around the house, filled with our stuff, for three months now. We hadn’t had much rain lately, and the river seemed quite normal. In the late afternoon, I happily curled up in the newly restored guest bedroom with a book, feeling like my flood troubles were over.

But I forgot that in Thailand, expectations and assumptions are generally worthless. So this morning when the phone rang shortly after 8:00am with a co-teacher warning us that the water was coming, I wondered why I had dared to be so optimistic. In fact, there is flooding in 43 of the 76 provinces of Thailand right now, so the only real surprise is that we actually are not yet underwater. Reports are that there is a bizarre convergence of heavy rains with high tides, so Thailand is being deluded from multiple directions, and will be so for another three days.

We spent today – our first official day off together this school break – doing myriad errands, chatting with other neighbors about flood worries, and checking the level of the river near our house every hour or so. (It did not actually reach our house today, though it came within a block or so.) It has gone down nearly two meters since it’s high level of the morning (shown in the photos), but who knows what tonight will bring? We plan to stay at our house to guard our things, unless there are any dramatic changes...

Parents, don’t worry, we have kind neighbors with 2-story houses.

One Year Ago

In honor of the one-year anniversary of our big flood, I am posting a photo of our house as it was seen that day from our neighbors’ upstairs window, where we had temporarily evacuated. Yikes! And, there’s also a photo from several months later, for comparison.

Weather has improved dramatically lately – the river has been down at normal levels for five days now. We heard reports today of a typhoon over the Philippines that might travel this far, but I have my doubts. In the meantime, things are looking good.

There was much grumbling over the past few days over the new uniform requirement. No one likes having to do so much laundry!

No Bus for Us

A flood? A coup? A flood? A coup? A flood?

It’s hard to decide what to be more excited/concerned/nervous about – the daily rise and fall of our river or the military takeover of the government. Even just within today, my attention has bounced back and forth between the two situations numerous times. I’d say it’s exhausting, except that thanks to the coup we’ve been granted what feels like a free and unexpected weekend.

The "Standfast" for Peace Corps Volunteers in Thailand was lifted this morning, so we can leave our sites again, but we are not allowed to travel to Bangkok or Chiang Mai. We had originally been scheduled to go on a trip this weekend – starting one hour ago – with teachers from one of Robert’s schools. The primary destination? Bangkok. The hotel on the 2nd night? Currently flanked with tanks, as it’s in the heart of the government center.

The Peace Corps was, to put it mildly, a little shocked when Robert called today to tell them that the trip was still on, and to ask whether we should be packing our bags to join them or not. "They’re still going?" asked our Program Director incredulously. "But the place is full of soldiers!" said our Safety and Security Officer. "So we don’t have to go then?" Robert asked hopefully.

We were nervous about the trip anyway, since it involved two overnight bus rides during what has felt like the worst of the rainy season, and we were even less interested in going once the capital was taken over by the army. So I was relieved when Robert called me at school to confirm that indeed, no, the Peace Corps was not going to bend the rules for this one.

Many people did run home from school or work during the day to take care of their flooding houses, but that’s the OTHER river, on the OTHER side of town, not our river. So now we’re snug in our still-dry house, not on an overnight bus, and OUR river is back down to four steps below the road.

The Rain Still Falls (But More Lightly Now)

Since media is being censored, I’ll be cautious about giving too many descriptive details here, but I wanted to share a bit about what our first day of living under martial law was like.

For the most part, the average visitor would not have noticed any big differences in our town before and after the coup. Life seemed to be proceeding as normal, despite the post office, banks, and government buildings being closed. In fact, you might not even known that the school district office was closed. When we arrived late morning, it was full of people. A big meeting for area teachers that had been previously scheduled was still going on, and other employees who hadn’t wanted to sit at home on the surprise day off were milling about. On the whole, I might just say that things were quieter than usual yesterday. We didn’t even have our nightly serenade of Thai pop music blasting from the house next door.

A fellow Peace Corps Volunteer wrote a blog about the easily changing allegiances of Thais during the World Cup in June. Describing the atmosphere of watching a game with a bunch of Thai friends, he noted that they took the side of whoever was winning! Robert and I wondered if, at least publicly, that was also happening with respect to this coup. We live in the rural north, where support of the ousted prime minister has been traditionally high. But yesterday you wouldn’t have known that anyone here ever liked him. At one point, in a conversation with some employees at the school district office, Robert referred to what happened Tuesday night as a "coup." (To be fair, he used the Thai word for a regular coup, as opposed to a bloodless coup, which has a different word, we learned later.) The three women present looked shocked, and hurried to correct him that it had not, absolutely not, been a coup, it had been POLITICAL REFORM.

Right... Political reform. With tanks.

Sunshine

It hasn’t rained for 26 hours, and the sun has been shining most of the day, so our river has gone about halfway back to its normal levels. I am now expecting a calmer weekend. Hooray!

Of course, while sunshine is welcome today if it keeps the floods away, it still does make it awfully hot. It’s currently 93°F in the shade. Ah, well.

Expertise We'd Rather Not Have Had

After last year’s flash flood, I lamented many of our lost items – letters from friends, photographs, teaching materials, books, and clothing – and plotted how I might try to attempt to save them if the occasion happened again. Before we left for the USA a few weeks ago, we put most of our irreplaceable items into large plastic garbage bags, hoisted the bags on top of beds and tables, and hung smaller bags from curtain hooks. When we returned to our town, we unpacked a few of the bags in an attempt to have a more normal-looking household.

Yesterday, everything went back into the bags, and we ourselves went off to spend the night on higher ground in hopes of sleep and safety. As of this writing on Friday afternoon, our house is still dry, but I expect a very interesting weekend! Here is how the last 44 hours have passed:

Wednesday, 5:10pm: I board a songtaew in the city after sending my mother and stepfather to the airport at the end of their visit. I notice dark clouds in the sky, but it’s not raining. By 5:30pm, though, the rain has started to fall.

Wednesday, 6:10pm: Still raining. I check the level of our river as the songtaew enters town. It isn’t too high – still about 8 or 9 steps below the road. (There are intermittent staircases along our side of the river bank – used by fisherman, washerwoman, and young swimmers when they want to enter the water.) Over dinner, Robert and I decide that if the water rises to within 2 steps of the road, we will move to higher ground.

Wednesday night: Rain continues to fall all night, though Robert says he heard it stop once or twice.

Thursday 9:20am: It’s still raining as I ride my bicycle to school. Crossing the bridge, I notice that the river has risen dramatically over the night. It’s now only 3 steps below the road at the point nearest our house, and it is moving very fast. After I arrive at school, I call Robert, who is still at the house, and tell him to pack up the computer and passports in a safe place.

Thursday day: It continues raining throughout the day, sometimes harder, sometimes just drizzling. My co-teacher, Ajaan Warangkana, says that in the event of a flood we can stay with her in a second-story room. I check in with Peace Corps, who says we can stay in a hotel in the city if needed.

Thursday, 3:15pm: As the teachers are gathering for a meeting, one gets a call on her cell phone reporting flooding in the district north of ours, upstream. A few minutes later, Robert calls to say that his school is closing early and sending all of the students home.

Thursday, 3:30pm: Parents begin showing up at school, asking to take their kids home because the town loudspeakers are warning of floods. When 30+ children hear the word "flood," they begin hollering and running around. The teachers dismiss them. I ride my bicycle home along with the students. On my way back over the bridge, I see that the water has risen just a few inches since morning, but is still moving quickly.

Thursday, late afternoon: Robert and I pack our backpacks and the house. I take the computer across the street to a neighbor’s second-story room. Robert listens to frequent announcements from our nearest loudspeaker, reporting more villages upstream that are being flooded. I check the river once and see that it has risen above the second step. Despite our earlier plan, we are reluctant to leave our house.

Thursday, 5:30pm: Robert and I go to look at the level of the river. It has risen above the first step and after a few more inches will be spilling over the brick pathway. (See photos!) Houses across the river, on lower ground, are beginning to get water. As Robert and I go to buy noodles for dinner, we discuss our options. Finally, we decide that leaving the house overnight would be more responsible. We compromise by planning to take care of our showers, toothbrushing, etc, before leaving, so that all we need to do at our safehouse is sleep!

Thursday evening: We eat dinner, finish packing, and get ready for bed. Plans are made for us to sleep at the house of Ajaan Lamduan, a teacher at one of Robert’s schools who lives less than a kilometer away but on significantly higher ground. She lives alone and has lots of space.

Thursday, 8:00pm: We say goodbye to our neighbors, put on our backpacks, and walk to Ajaan Lamduan’s house. We set up in her daughter’s room (she’s away at school). By 10:00 we’ve gone to sleep.

Friday, 2:00am: After a trip to the bathroom, I lie in bed listening to distant roosters and wondering about the state of the river. Suddenly the loudspeakers on the street are blaring. I poke Robert awake. The only words I catch are "water is here," "help each other," "safe already," and the name of our village. We aren’t sure what this means. About 15 minutes later, we hear the speakers again, but the ones nearest us aren’t turned on this time, so we can’t make out anything. Finally, after another half hour, a much more clear announcement comes. "Village 9, pick up your things. Move your refrigerators. Help each other. The water is flowing. If it reaches the road it will enter Village 9." It repeats a few times and then is quiet again. We lie awake until nearly 4:00am, wondering if the water has crossed the road and entered our neighborhood.

Friday, 6:00am: We wake up and get dressed. Ajaan Lamduan has brought us some desserts for breakfast, and she tells us that the water did not reach the road. 45 minutes later we head back to our house. It is indeed dry and the neighborhood has not yet been flooded. We get dressed and go to school.

Friday, 8:30am: On my way to school, I look at the river again. It has spilled over the banks and is covering the red brick pathway and the road alongside it. I can’t tell how high it reached in the night, or whether it is rising or falling.

Friday day: Although the morning was turning sunny and optimistic, rain has been falling on and off and now the sky is definitely cloudy. My teaching for the day is finished and I’ve retrieved the computer for the time being. I think there’s no way of knowing now if the water will rise again or not – it will depend on tonight’s weather! In any case, we’re ready to leave the house in a hurry again if need be. Ajaan Lamduan will welcome us at her house for as many nights as necessary. And that’s where we’re at!

PS: If you try to call us on our cell phones and can’t get through, try adding an "8" before the rest of the number. (after the country code) It might be a new policy thing going into effect today, but it’s not clear yet.

Update

The floods did not come to our town. However, the four provinces that were hit were hit much harder than we were last year. Massive mudslides and that sort of thing. Three volunteers were flooded out of their houses, but are otherwise safe.

Our town gave a big sigh of relief when the rain stopped on Friday. Things had been pretty tense here for a few days. Now we're just back to roasting hot. Always something!

Here We Go Again...

It's happening. The endless days of rain thanks to typhoons around Southeast Asia are having their effects on northern Thailand.

Yesterday evening our next door neighbor told us that several northern provinces have already flooded in the last couple of days, including ours, though still over a hundred kilometers from our house. With that information, we gathered our passports and a few other emergency supplies into backpacks that are now sitting ready in case of a quick escape. At midnight when the rain came heavily again I couldn't sleep, and stood out on the patio watching it until Robert got me to come back in.

Today it's the first topic on everyone's mind. Our supervisor at Peace Corps called at 7:30am to check in. She reported that another volunteer has been flooded already, two provinces south of us. As soon as we arrived at the school district office we were asked, "Did you pick up your things yet?" (Meaning, did you prepare your house?) We'll be doing a lot of that tonight, I think. My goal is to preserve as much of our material goods as possible this time around! Not that material goods are all-important, of course, but it would be much better if we didn't lose them all the same.

I do like rain. But I don't think I will ever feel quite the same about it again.

Early Rainy Season?

We are continuing to see evidence that the rainy season will be coming soon. Or, perhaps it’s already here...

We visited Ko Chang – an island off Thailand’s east coast – with Robert’s cousin Karin this past weekend, and we had the opportunity to see a tropical rainforest in the rain. Note how the two of them are standing under their umbrellas, while other wet tourists walk in the background. We had hiked out to see a tropical waterfall and swim in its pool, but instead we just got soaking wet waiting to see if the rain would eventually stop. (It did, after we hiked back.) It was quite beautiful, anyway!

While we were experiencing rain along the rainforest coast, our northern town was visited by a "cyclone." (The correct term might be "tropical depression," but both the English-language newspaper The Bangkok Post and the Thai speakers in our town referred to it – in English – as a "cyclone.") For those of you who may not remember, it was Tropical Storm Domrey that brought us last year’s flood, so the news that a "cyclone" had arrived well before the heart of the usual rainy season did not ease my fears that we may be in for more this year!