handy dandy phrase book

FINALLY. Internet. How I've missed you so.
Weekends at BGIS= NO INTERNET. Why? No library access; therefore, no internet. But, I've found this sweet little internet cafe about 1/4 from the school.

Alright...so, things have been interesting here lately..it's been from one extreme to another. Saturday morning I woke up with the teachers from the English Vision Camp (hosted by BGIS) and we went over to the cafeteria at the school for breakfast. Bob Evans..how I miss you. I enjoyed a lovely breakfast feast of eggs and rice with a side of hot dog (?) I think? At that point, I didn't care. I tend to get very hungry around this place, so when the food is served, it's chow time.."hot dogs" and eggs? WHY NOT!..though, i'm sure is somthing more like "hot cats" if ya catch my drift. Later that afternoon we met at the school and were separated into groups (one american teacher and two thai people) for the Saturday afternoon outreach. We scattered among the city delivering information about the upcoming mother's day sunday (this coming sunday) at our church. Mothers are invited to come and bring their children and stay for a lunch afterwards. We left the school grounds in school vans which brought us down the craziest, skinniest streets (TWO LANE) I've ever been on in my life. The van came to an abrupt stop and the two women I was with (one very pushy Korean and the sweetest Thai woman) led me through a broken fence, around a swampy river to a local village. There were children gathered around a tree, hitting the trunk of the tree with a stick and yelling some sort of rythmic tune (a game I guess...looked like more fun than I was having) hah. The children led us to their houses- and that's when I became speechless. These homes were literally trash mosaics...anything from candy wrappers, scrap car bumpers to drift wood was nailed and taped together for shelter. There were on average about five people living in each home. We'd knock on the door and usually the mom of the house would open the door with a huge smile on her face (i keep changing tenses, so i'm changing again to make this easier): a woman opened the door with a huge smile on her face. She bowed her head offered a "sawatdee kaa" to us and listened to what we had to say. The woman offered us something to eat and drink. I couldn't believe in this situation, a five person family, and she's offering us something. Out of politeness I accepted. She gave me hot tea and corn on the kob (not too bad, actually). I was just going to smile, hold onto it and not eat it..but she waited for me to bite into it (sort of like the woman from the wedding singer with the meatballs) so, I, as adam sandler, bit into the corn and what a sweet surprise. anyway, these living conditions were far worse than any help-the-children commercial i've ever seen. the smell was horrific and still, there were televisions in each home and a brand new, clean vehicle outside most of the homes. No one could speak english (of course) but when I heard the two women I was with say "America" I knew they were talking about me, and I'd smile and nod. I had a bag of "cracker and cream" snacks that I dispensed to the children and was amazed at the fact that as I'd hold out the snack for them to take, these filthy children would take a step back, bow their heads and thank me before they'd accept the gift- that's it. if i have kids, i'm raising them here.
Anyway..we did that for about 4 hours then ate dinner at a nearby japanese restaurant. We took a 5 min. taxi ride to this ENORMOUS mall to eat..there's a million malls around here (filled with the same stuff...whitening creams, little shoes and yellow shirts). This mall was nicer than anything I've ever seen..we all walked around in shock because of what we had seen earlier yesterday afternoon. So far this is the city of surprises... An area we visited today had a Ferrari dealer and Versace stores..and 15 minutes away are people living under old banners and paper roofs...it's ridiculously confusing how poverty works.
Today was church. All I can say about that experience is that is was very long and very confusing. The school/church is run by Korean missionaries, so the church service is in korean then translated into thai, then into english. SO, it takes about 3 times as long to get the word across. When we read scripture, it's outloud because that's how they believe God hears us speak/pray..so, three languages at once- what a party!
Finally today I bought a thai phrase book and began to read it in the taxi on the way back the dorm. There's informative info in there about dialects and tones of speech...key phrases, words, numbers..etc. Very useful things..until, the page I came across that had key phrases written out that one might use on a trip..
for example, I can now say "I'm looking for fisherman pants" and "you're only using me for sex" in thai...hmm, I now vow to use both of those phrases at least once everyday that I am here (to practice my thai, of course).
hah! Also, that taxi ride ended abruptly when our taxi got a flat tire and we had to change cars in the middle of traffic.
Anyway, there's apparently a movie theatre around here with Die Hard playing at it (it might be in Thai)..but, that makes it more fun.


..maybe they'll have fisherman pants there.
I'll get you pair too, don't worry.

"attention Big C shoppers..."

"..American blonde giant, aisle five!"

..or, at least that's what it felt like. Oh, Big C. Big C? Big huh? Big C is the Thai version of a Walmart- only, everything is freshly packed (meats, veggies, fruits, etc.) and it's about 5 stories high. Floor 3: Electronic department- code for: lots of Thai men interested in American women. Funny how no one can speak English and yet some guy managed to mutter: "ah, yes. america. very beautiful". Yea, I bet I am. I'm about twice your weight and height and go by Lauren the giant.
Anyway. I got ripped off. I accidentally left my camera memory card reader at my sister's house so now I've got a bunch of great pictures, and no way to get them onto my computer (which also isn't working with the internet here at the school) sigh.

well, it's free dinner at the school tonight.
hey, i'm sweating.
big surprise.

much love to you all.

love,
sweaty big foot.

what the baht?

6:30 am and I'm awake... I rose with the sun (probably because I was sweaty in bed).
Found myself a comfortable spot on the roof of our dormitory (there's a balcony type overlook) and sat down with my ipod and bible in my hands.Though the buildings surrounding the dormitory appear only inhabited by flocks of pigeons and cockroaches, there's something beautiful about the sun rising above such an impoverished city.I've seen the sun rise in the islands of the Bahamas..the white sands of Dania beach..above the mountains in Virginia...but this sunrise leaves me speechless. Something so warm, so pure and so beautiful rising above such despair..
Bethany Dillon sings,
"The same sun that
Rises over castles
And welcomes the day

Spills over buildings
Into the streets
Where orphans play"

..that's what I was reminded of this morning on the roof top. I like it up there.

8:30 soon came, and five of us climbed into the taxi heading for the BTS (the bangkok skytran) and went to Siam. Siam is the most Americanized area I've seen. Most of the Thai people there can either understand or speak English..tourist trap I'd say. Though I've only been here for two days, it was almost distrubing to see other white Americans in public as I'm only used to seeing the few teachers here at the school that are American. Hearing English spoken in public was also somewhat odd.

I first exchanged all my American money ($171) for Thai baht..equally 5800. With an exchange rate like that I must admit I feel like I really got a deal. Though less than two hundred dollars to my name seems as though I'm somewhat poor, I'm so RICH here. Oh, baht.. how you serve me well.
(33 baht= 1 US dollar)

So, the purchases I made today:

lunch:
garlic fried rice (aka stinky breath) 23 baht
chinese herbal tea (hot)- 23 baht

a yellow shirt that says "long live the king" with some sort of embroidered elephant (to wear on mondays in honor of the king): 199 baht (NOT a good deal)

a little bit of makeup to cover the dark circles under my eyes called "stay white" (I left ALL of makeup in charlotte): 700 baht
(EXPENSIVE! Only because the makeup I had to buy was imported because all the makeup here is whitening makeup..and this is the least whitening stuff they've got!)

so, i'm saving my baht as I have an entire month before i get paid. so, i either better stop buying stuff, or starve. hmm.. hard choice!

I'm going to look for a ministry outside of school to get involved with. I'm like to find something to do with a woman's ministry or ministering to those affected by the sex trade industry here- something of eternal worth and purpose, that's all i ask!

Karaoke tonight. oh my word..i can't wait.
school training starts next wednesday, and after that- no more fun and games.

7-11 is huge around here. they have dried squid chips and bluberry yogurt soda.
ick!

sawatdee kaa.

barefoot in the library

yep. that's right. no shoes in the buildings here in Thailand- which is actually ironic seeing that feet (the bottoms of feet) are considered to be extremely dirty and rude if shown.
Funny. Maybe if they started wearing their shoes more they wouldn't have such dirty feet? I'll have to propose this idea to the king..I'll let ya know what he says.

So, I slept in the school dormitory last night. I'll be staying there until the end of July and then hopefully moving into my own apartment. MY OWN APARTMENT! IN BANGKOK! We looked at apartments today that are around 5000 baht/mo. (around $152) which includes water, electric, NICE furniture, internet, cable and a refrigerator if you want it).. It's actually nicer than anything I could have afforded on my own in the US, so this isn't much of a sacrifce..it's more of a huge step up the "hey i have a cool apartment" ladder. I must say that I am rather proud of my apartment experiences so far... the loft in downtown Lburg, to my own suite in Bangkok. I'm very blessed.

So, kids Korean church tonight, then off to the markets.

sawasdee.

So, kids Korean church tonight. Then off to the mall

fifteen pounds and six feet UNDER

Here I sit, comfy dress and all in the Charlotte International Airport...bags all checked (35 lbs each..I'm so proud they were under 50lbs. Probably the only thing in my life thats ever been UNDERweight. HAHA!)I've had last minute goodbye conversations with close friends, nice long hugs with my mom and sister... Going away for this long seems similar to planning your own dying day (in a non-morbid manner). I've taken care of my belongings, stored them away (if not thrown them/given them away), found a home for my Jeep and said my final goodbyes. So much to prepare for going away for a year really can be an exhausting series of events; only, when death arrives I won't have to worry about silly passport applications (and fees. boo.), storage spaces or if any of my bags are overweight. I've tried to capture each moment for it's beauty and simplicity. Instead of listening to the radio in the car, I've enjoyed the quietness while taking in the scenery- usually associated with traffic in North Carolina- but, still it's America, and we have traffic here. Traffic with scrapbooked bumpers of who's campaigning that year, what the latest music crazes are and an occassional "BABY ON BOARD!" We really are such an expressive society. Looks, books, odds and ends- we express ourselves through everything we do- somewhat like the man sitting to my immediate right- bald head, clean shaven, wire-rimmed glasses reading a fortune 500 book(business looking from the waist up) and then the curveball: cowboy boots and a leather carry-on rolling suitcase. I"m a believer that this man's somehow either related to Sheryl Crow or works in the Corporate Toyota offices and is going on a little plane trip to visit the truck-building boys over in Texas and just wants to fit in.
He might get beat up.
Let's just hope for the best.

Anyway, yes..capturing life's simplicity. Colsen's sticky, "raisin surprise" fingers, his innocent, high-pitched rendition of Bob's song, the smell of my mother's perfume "pew-fume", watching Taryn sing with her eye's closed at Watershed, the look in Scott's eyes when he looks at Taryn (the good one that is), how beautifully pregnant Taryn is and watching my unborn nephew grow a little everyday, looking over in church ans seeing my mom and clark holding hands...I'm so happy my mom has someone to hold hands wth, and finally, someone that loves her holding her hand, Rita's sweet words, my Dad's encouragement.. Love surrounds me. My family is love..and I've had the honor of having a little of all of this all my life.
Life is good. today, life is good.

Also- I just found out I'm not going to be living at the school in Thailand. I was just informed that the school will be giving me an allowance to find an apartment. oh boy, my mom's not gonna like that. (attention mom: it's okay. i'll be fine. i love you, too).

so, that's it. i'm going to detroit now. hello, kid rock.







.....or no, maybe he drives for NASCAR.

goodbye america.

hello, thailand.





I will bring 2 bags to the airport and leave behind a sniffling, loving mother, sister, nephew and everything that has been familiar to me now all my life.

This will be change. Change is oh, so good.
May the adventure begin.


11 hours.
giddy up.

six little strings.

I started playing guitar when I was in 10th grade. With a
hand-me-down guitar from my sister's college years, I was instructed to
practice, practice, practice. Dear H. Harvey was my instructor's name.
We'd meet in a closet sized classroom for an hour every other week.
Facing each other, knocking our knees together when tapping our toes to
the beat, we'd play all throughout the session. Mr. Harvey had a
collection of hawaiian floral print shirts which he'd only button up halfway. A gold chain with a detailed medallion
hung from his neck, hands adorned with jewels and hardened fingertips that told stories of stages he'd entertained. A bluesrhythm he
could play best- an inspiration to my musical dreams he had become. I
remember walking into those sessions (having never practiced.
practiced. practiced.) and always walking out wanting to one day be as
good as he was on that guitar. I'd bring recordings of Sting, Jewel and
other artists' showing him the songs I longed to play on my own.
Listening closely, he'd scribble letters. Many, many letters. Letters
and numbers at times. He'd play the recording again. Adjust a few
letters. Then a few numbers, then, he'd turn the wrinkled paper towards
me and say "here ya go."
The code of numbers and letters apparently
were supposed to be some sort of secret musical code that my fifteen
year old mind couldn't decipher on it's own. Ah, yes. Chords. They were
chords. Of course they were! I could never read sheet music, but H.
Harvey's scribbled chords mapped out every song that had ever inspired
me to play guitar- only one day, I went for my music lesson, and there
was no bumping of knees. No tapping of toes. Nohawaiian cruise wear. Only rain, my guitar and a long wait in my mom's Thunderbird. Thirty minutes passed. Thirty five. Forty.
H. Harvey had passed away that evening. No more guitar lessons.

Rest not, dear acoustic beauty. I still love to play.



..(i've also started to pack. no, really. i have.)