You know it's time to come home when.... Part 2

.... you are seriously considering bludgeoning to death with a blunt instrument the dogs that, night after night, thwart your hopes of an uninterrupted night's sleep by scrapping, howling and yelping outside your window, leaving you wide awake at 3am, pondering life's imponderable questions, only to doze off half an hour before your alarm goes off, dragging you bleary-eyed and wobbly-limbed from an impossibly deep sleep...

The morning after the night before - butter wouldn't melt!

 

Two of the culprits. They get to spend the entire day lazing around in the shade and recovering from the night's exertions, while I have to get up and go to work.

 

I WILL NOT MISS THE MAE SOT DOGS ONE TEENY, WEENY FRACTION OF AN IOTA OF A SMITHEREEN OF AN ITSY WITSY LITTLE BIT!!!

 





You know it's time to come home when...

... your entire life is being held together by safety pins, elastic bands and bits of string!

First thing to go, several months back, was the zip on my rucksack. I bought the rucksack in my first week in Mae Sot, when I realised I would need a means of carrying my laptop to work. It has been in constant use ever since, with only Sundays off. In the week, it carries my computer and other work related paraphernalia to and from the office, and my ukulele and assorted teaching and learning resources to and from the centres. On Saturdays, it takes my washing to the laundry and brings my groceries home. It has also done several weekend trips to Bangkok.
When the zip went, I had no intention of getting another rucksack. This one was actually quite expensive, which either means it is a genuine article Lowe Alpine (highly unlikely!), or that, being fresh into town, I was diddled! So, in the true wartime and VSO spirit of "make do and mend", I have been holding together the broken part with several sturdy safety pins:

Then, some weeks ago, the spring went on my glasses case meaning that it no longer stays shut. So I went through my collection of elastic hair bobbles and selected one that just happened to match the trim on my phone case, so now my accessories look stupendously coordinated, and no-one would know any better! (One of the tiny screws fell out of the glasses frame a few months back and the lens fell out. Miraculously, I found the screw on the floor and was able to take all the bits into an opticians and get it all put back together again.)

Most recently, the basket on my motorbike has broken away from two of the three brackets that hold it to the front of the bike. It might be mendable, though I suspect a whole new basket and fitting are required and I've had no time, or inclination, to investigate. So for the moment I have cobbled it together with a piece of string. It won't support anything heavy, but at least if the third bracket breaks the basket won't come flying off and go bouncing dangerously along the road (I hope!)

 

Having got to the point where I cannot take my trousers in any more, they are also now being held up with a safety pin (no photos there - too embarrassing!)

How many more things can fall apart in the next five weeks...?!

Cultural Conundrum

Last weekend I had to travel to Bangkok again for more medical visits. As is my habit, I had booked my bus ticket well in advance in order to be able to reserve my preferred seat - right at the very front on the upper deck with a full view of the road ahead to minimise travel sickness on the mountainous stretch from Mae Sot to Tak; and on the aisle side where there is more room for my bag and I can be first out when we get to the single toilet stop in the 8 hour trip.
I generally get the bus at a secondary bus station near where I live, after it has departed from the main bus depot at the other end of town. When the bus pulled in, I noticed from the bright orange robes that the person sitting at the front in the seat next to the one I had reserved was a monk. The thought crossed my mind that this might cause an interesting situation, as monks are not meant to be in close proximity to a woman.
I presented my ticket to the bus stewardess and she showed me upstairs to my seat. When she realised where I was meant to be sitting, she was clearly thrown into a terrible dilemma which manifested itself in a fit of hand-over-the-mouth giggling. There was no way she could let me sit next to the monk, as that would have constituted a serious violation of religious protocol. Had I been Thai, I imagine she would have had no qualms in allocating me to a different seat, but she probably felt that to refuse me my booked seat would look like rudeness to a foreigner.
Some people at the back of the bus were indicating that there were free seats there. I understood the dilemma, and I had no intention of insisting on sitting next to the monk. However, having gone to the trouble to book my seat well in advance, I was not prepared to be relegated to the back of the bus and spend the next 8 hours in queasy misery. So I waited patiently at the front of the bus for someone to come up with a sensible solution.
The stewardess went and fetched her superior. He checked my ticket, and the monk's ticket, and the tickets of several other people sitting in the immediate vicinity, just to make sure there was no mistake. Then he did exactly what I would have done and asked the single man sitting in the seat behind the one I had booked to move forward and sit next to the monk. I did assert myself at this point and insisted on having the window seat, where, once we got on our way, I was treated to the loud and persistent snoring of the monk in the seat in front of me.

To cut a long weekend of medical tests short, I have been diagnosed with a nerve problem in my leg, the most likely cause of which in my case is significant weight loss. Tests showed no obvious, serious underlying cause for the weight loss, which is probably due to the difficulties I have been having with my diet and digestive system ever since I got here. Recommended treatment - come home and start eating properly again! So, after several months of procrastinating over setting a return date, I have finally decided to leave Mae Sot at the end of November and fly back to the UK around 2nd Dec after dealing with the final leaving procedures in Bangkok. So I'll be home just in time to gate-crash everyone's pre-Christmas festivities!

I have very mixed feelings about leaving. In some ways I am definitely ready to come home. The last couple of months in particular I have been feeling increasingly exhausted, and the things that I find difficult here have seemed more problematic then ever. However, I know I have a massive readjustment process ahead of me. It will be difficult to leave behind people that I have worked with so closely here, and after being so completely independent in my life and work, it will be difficult to find myself initially dependent on other people until I get myself set up with a job and somewhere to live. These are all well-recognised phenomena, and VSO offers a lot of support for its returning volunteers. I will have to be firm with myself and try and curb my usual tendency to want to have everything sorted and ship-shape immediately!

Where there's a will - update!

Yesterday we finally signed the MOU with the local Ministry of Interior on the pilot project for increasing the capacity of the two child-care and development centres to enrol more migrant children over the next few years. We had been getting a bit anxious as they seemed to be stalling on the final signing, despite having started to press ahead with the recruitment of the teachers and language assistants, and we weren't quite sure what was going on.

Eventually it transpired that, in keeping with usual practice in Thai officialdom, they were wanting to make a huge ceremony out of it and were having difficulty finding a suitable date and getting it all arranged. We pointed out gently that, as we were about to interview the candidates we couldn't really hold off any longer on the signing, so they agreed to forego the pomp and ceremony and just get the documents signed!

The Administrative Chief was not available when we first got there, so all the other parties signed and then we went on to conduct the interviews. That was a fascinating process. The poor candidates must have been completely overwhelmed as we were such a large interview panel, with representatives from the education department, ME, VSO and the two centre directors. I did suggest at the beginning that someone should introduce us all and explain who we all were, but no-one bothered with that - they just launched straight in with the questions!

There was no planning of questions in advance and it all seemed a bit random. I was really only observing, with Zaw Zaw whispering in my ear to let me know what was going on, though I did throw in a couple of questions to try and get a better idea of their ECD experience and understanding. The only bit that was planned was a role play scenario that I had suggested to assess the level of Burmese and Thai language and the translation skills of the candidates for the language assistant role. Zaw Zaw took the role of a Burmese-speaking parent trying to communicate with one of the centre directors, and the candidates had to translate both ways between them. It worked really well and was invaluable in the final decision-making process, when I kept having to remind people that the one skill that the language assistants had to have was the ability to translate between the two languages!

After the interviews we trooped into the office of the Administrative Chief for the final, ceremonial signing of the document. This involved a lot of sitting around and smiling and laughing politely as he regaled us with anecdotes and witticisms. Eventually the deed was done!

Now that our main project activities with the centres are completed, we will concentrate mostly on getting this off the ground by supporting the teachers and assistants in their new roles and monitoring how it is going. So little time left!!

Just when you thought rainy season was over...

Climate change is clearly having an effect on weather patterns here in Thailand just as much as anywhere else. Rainy season is supposed to run from around May to September. Both last year and this it was very late starting, and this year it never really seemed to get going properly at all. It had been predicted as a very dry season, with drought and associated problems for agriculture.
By the last week of September we were back to hot and sunny weather and it seemed that we had seen the last of the rain - until about a week ago, when it suddenly returned with a ferocity that had hardly been seen for the entire season.

Last weekend, I was speaking on the phone with Jennel and the rain was drumming down so hard I could hardly hear her. At a certain point there was a thunder clap so loud that she exclaimed "What on earth was that?!"

On Monday, I went to aerobics with Alice for the first time in about six weeks. As we were walking there we could see from the threatening colour of the sky that we were in for another massive storm. We just got there before the heavens opened. The class started as normal, but the rain on the roof was so loud that we could hardly hear the music, and as the instructor for some reason did not have her usual headset microphone she had no hope of making herself heard.

About 15 minutes in there was a tremendous thunder clap and the power went out. With no lights and no music it was impossible to continue, but the rain was so heavy that there was also no possibility of going home. We all huddled in the middle of the shelter, but the wind was so strong that it was driving the rain right in through the open sides and we were getting pretty soggy. All the Thai women squealed in terror every time there was a flash of lightning, which I found rather odd - surely they must be used to storms?!

Eventually it eased off enough for us to attempt the walk home, but by this time the roads were several inches deep in water as the drains are not able to cope with such a quantity of rain in a short space of time. When we got to my street it was in total darkness as the power was still off. I was just mentally preparing myself for an evening of darkness, with no chance of a shower (as the pump would not be working) and no chance to cook my dinner, when the power came back on again just as I entered the house. It has to be said that they are pretty good here at getting the electricity supply going again promptly after a storm.

The rest of the week settled into a pattern of thunderous showers at lunchtime and again in the early evening. On Thursday I was caught out on my motorbike in a horrendous downpour. (Thankfully I did have my poncho!) The rain was so heavy it was painful on my arms and I could hardly see where I was going. Despite my poncho I was more than a little damp by the time I arrived at my destination.
For the last few days we have been back to hot and sunny weather again - is it safe to dare to believe that the season really is over now, or does it have some more nasty surprises up its sleeve?!

UPDATE: a couple of hours later - the wind is howling, the rain is lashing, the thunder is rumbling, the lights are flickering, the roof is leaking, the curtains are blowing wildly and the dogs have all taken shelter... It's not over yet - clearly the fat lady has not sung!