A Quiet Place
Outside of the smell and traffic jams
of Bangkok, time in Thailand always reminds me of how insular our lives can be in the U.S. We cut ourselves off from each other. We shut out the natural world with layers of stone and wood, fiberglass and drywall, Tyvek
house wrap, paint, wallpaper, soundproofing, double and triple pane windows, screens and storm doors. We live on big lots far from neighbors. We drive here and there closed up in our cars. Sometimes, it
seems we want to shut ourselves off from life. Here in the quietness of Na Lao, those facts always make me feel a little sad.
As a “Westerner”, it is true that my first encounters with “life” here was a
little disturbing: geckos on the ceiling and cats leaping on me in the middle of the night was certainly, at first, disturbing. The cat jumped from an open window onto my mosquito net, scaring me nearly to death! And
it’s true that I found the heat oppressive in
2001, giant cockroaches repulsive, and the food bizarre and unfamiliar, but I did, after all, grow up in America! Rural Thailand is a far place from Spic n Span wiped floors, 401 cleaned counters, and Drano flushed sinks.
I don’t know what’s changed, certainly me and not this place. I only know that today there
is something truly freeing, even calming, about floor boards in a house that feed shafts of light to space below, babies dozing in baskets hung in open air, dishwater crashing down from a
second floor window. Even when the scent of burning trash penetrates and stings my nose, there is comfort is watching clothes hung from a piece of string picked up along the road, fruit flies swarming bananas on a 
nail, dogs wallowing in the dirt. Songs float in
from across the school yard. A slab of tree trunk bridges neighbors homes. Rain water splashes into cisterns. A papaya tree springs up from the ashes where trash once burned. Kaffir lime leaves are thick for picking
beside the porch. Rural Thailand is a place where chickens and dogs are the alarm clocks. A mouse decorates a corner of the bathroom and neighbors are never more than a step away. - Carol
Patom Na Lao (Elementary School)
In our "home village" Na Lao the Thai kids are a delight. We happened to arrive here a day before National Children’s Day. Today, the school is holding a parade, dance performances, games and track & field contests. We see many of the Thai teachers we worked with in the past. Kids huddle around me and are fascinated by my rollator and the bicycle bell. As is the custom, we make a small donation of money to help support two poor but talented students at the school. And, as is the custom, they make more of it than we think is warranted: formal presentation of the award and announcements throughout the community over giant loudspeakers. In the photo below, we are handing the “scholarship” to one of the two students
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Back to BKK
Our peace and nostalgia came to an abrupt end as we returned to smog and bustle of Hua Lampong, the Bangkok train station. Unseen by us in previous visits, we discovered that the station has a special handicap toilet and handicap ramps along side the many steps. There, too, we saw our first Thai person with a rollator not unlike Norbert’s “Ferrari”. With a lot of help from our “friends,” we boarded the night train at 5 p.m. Of all the trains we have taken in Thailand, this was, by far, the dirtiest and most badly maintained of all. Maybe it was just the luck of the draw.
If its morning, this must be Chiang Mai!
The trip was uneventful. As usually, the nearly empty train cars filled up as we made stops along the suburbs of Bangkok and even more as we made night time stops in larger towns in route. By morning, we woke to an aisle filled with luggage, plastic bags, boxes tied with string, and shoes everywhere. Making our way to the toilet was definitely a challenge, especially for Norbert. We immediately found a willing songtao driver to take us to the faculty house near Wat Jet Yot, an ancient temple on the ring road around the city.
One Week Later
By now, all but four students have arrived. They are scheduled in on Sunday. So far, there are twenty-nine young men and women. Unlike students we’ve known from previous years, there are fewer Karen and Karenni refugees and more Mon, Shan, and Burman student. Our dean explained the change. During this past year, the U.S. government finally decided to accept Karen refugees into the United States. As a result, nearly the entire group of Karen students have chosen to stay in the camps and to take their chances with the refugee-status lottery. He complains that those chosen to relocate are always the brightest and best, natural leaders and nearly all teachers in the refugee camp elementary schools. This leaves behind the least educated, least capable to find they own way. As a result, more of this year’s students come from inside Burma, travel on legitimate visas, and seem, from our perspective, to be better off and better educated than the small number students here from refugee camps. - Carol
On a Personal Note
Today, we’ll be moving from the faculty house to a brand-new apartment
close to everything. It is just around the corner from where we used to live. Our old neighbors (Mim’s parents) just built the apartment building and saved
a place for us. Most of the apartments are rented out by the month, but ours is one they reserve and rent out by the day during events and festivals in
Chiang Mai. It is sparkling new and free for us,. It has A/C, high-speed internet that works most of the time, cable TV with BBC and other international
channels, a phone, a kitchenette with sink, small frig., & microwave, secure entry requiring thumbprint recognition, and a beautiful view on Doi Suthep,
far distant foothills of the Himalayas. The downside of our move is, we will no longer have a Burmese cook or people around all the time. The up side is, we will no longer have to eat only Burmese food and have people around all the
time. Also, it is up one flight of steps, a bit difficult for me to negotiate but I manage.
Two years ago Mike and Kathi rescued Mim, the daughter, who was on a
work-travel exchange, stuck in a high security prison town north of New York city, and working at McDonalds. She and her friend Kita from Bangkok were
invited to move to Redding. They stayed for the remaining two months with Michael and his family in Connecticut and loved it. I guess as a result, her family insisted on taking us in here in Chiang Mai.
At first, the dean of the program here
suggested we might be more comfortable in another place, since students were going to live here and everyone spoke Burmese, not Thai. Also the food prepared by the cook is Burmese. They weren’t sure we would like it.
So, we started looking around for a place to stay. Now, it seems plans changed. The program rented another place for the students but nobody told us they weren’t staying here
after all. When he learned we were moving, the dean seemed a bit put off. He likes to have us around to work, constantly editing course descriptions, etc since his English is pretty bad
or fixing computer problems. Also, he has me teaching one of the faculty members to be the assistant registrar. In other words, we are a little TOO available at this address
It's still wonderfully cool here in the morning and early afternoon, not at all what we expected: 61 F. in the morning and 84 F. later in the day. No doubt higher temps will be coming since the hot season begins in mid March.
- Norbert
Photos:
1. Na Lao house near where we stayed
2. Na Lao boy resting
3. Wit climbed a tree barefooted and picked a few coconuts for us. We drink the milk inside and scoop out the meat.
4. Na Lao school children surround Norbert and his rollator , in the middle the parade, giving gift to child on the right
5. Bojo, our Burmese cook who doesn’t speak any English, we don’t speak Burmese , quite a challenge. I say to him pointing at myself “my name is Norbert”. He repeats “my name is Norbert” pointing at himself. We give up after a while.