Two Weeks Ago...

I didn't know what was in store...

If you'd have told me two weeks ago that I'd be more tired from biking, learning, and sweating than from a two-show day, I wouldn't have believed you.

If you'd have told me that I'd miss things like putting my feet up, I'd have laughed it off.

If you'd have told me that singing a song in a language I scarcely know would be the highlight of my day, I'd have wondered how that could be possible.

Now I see...

The value of a hug from a kind friend and family member on a much deeper level.

That driving (even in traffic) was such a luxury.

All the conversations in broken Spanish as a distant hope for my Thai in the near future.

Today...

I was greeted in the morning with coffee (my host is spoiling me). How sweet it is (mainly because it's 3-in-1 coffee, but also because I am just so lucky).

I had my first check-in of many throughout PST (Pre-Service Training) and got some very helpful and encouraging feedback from my Aa-jan (teacher).

I used wifi at lunch near the meeting hall and got to see my mom's face (it's a small world after all!).

Tonight...

I worked on a traditional Thai song with my host family, as well as other homework and continuing my practice of the Thai alphabet.

The mosquitoes let me alone more than usual thanks to the abundance of fans and DEET (you'd understand why I used such a harsh chemical if you saw my legs, I promise).

Finally, my host called her friend Pui in order for her to tell me a story in English that I wouldn't have understood with my limited Thai, yet. On the day we met, a week from tomorrow, all the host families received envelopes with our names and pictures inside but were ordered not to open them until they were told. She followed the rules and watched in anticipation as we entered the room to meet our new families. None of us knew who we'd be placed with, either, so it was a big surprise on both sides. She watched as trainee after trainee entered the room and said that, even though she hadn't opened the envelope yet, when she saw me, she knew I was the one. She leaned over and told her family, "There she is." When I heard this story tonight, a mixture of goosebumps, misty eyes, and a joyful smile came to the surface all at once. These are the moments that a lifetime of dreaming is made for.

Can you spot the farangs (foreigners)?

Two weeks ago feels like months already, but if my days are as rich as today, I will savor each with loving appreciation.

How sweet it is.

When all else fails...

Life right now is no walk in the park.

It's a long bike ride in murky heat, followed by changing in bathrooms to look presentable, hours of confusion as new vocabulary is thrown at you, more bike riding, finding food that doesn't have meat with somewhat limited communication skills for when things go amiss, sitting in rooms full of people as sweaty as you to hear information you might already know, most of which you don't, that you hope you'll retain until you can process after washing your laundry by hand and hanging it up before the mosquitoes try to drink you dry, commune with family who know less English than you do Thai, and finish homework before you fall asleep standing up.

Life right now is also more amazing than I can put to words. As I sit beside my oscillating fan with my 30% DEET as my new best friend beside me and my host family outside checking on my every few minutes to make sure I'm cool enough, full enough, hydrated enough, etc, I know that all the sweating and brain overloading is a sure sign that a transformation is at hand. 

Words flow more smoothly every day. My host grandma treats me more affectionately as she slices mango and makes sure I get the softest bit. My host grandpa shares laughs as he teaches me to eat a Thai staple that is so bitter my face turns in on itself, while my host niece takes a picture I can only assume has wound up on instagram or facebook by now for her Thai friends to laugh at. My life is completely unrecognizable from what it was in the states. The only thing that remains constant is my determination to be here, now, and my love of the adventure with each turn.

Do I love mosquitoes and spiders and humidity and sweating and newts and mangy dogs? Absolutely not.

Do I love learning and growing and strengthening and laughing and sharing and breathing a new culture in? Yes, absolutely.

I've heard that life is what happens while you're busy making other plans. I'm not sure I believe that, now. In these past few days, I have fully experienced life as it must have been when I was a baby. No need for planning. The plans are set. Life is happening in each new food that crosses my lips. Each new word that enters my ear. Each new phrase I form with my mouth. Each new person I have the honor of meeting. Each new friend I find a reason to laugh with. Each new step, or pedal, that propels me forward into a new world of understanding. Each new sight, from rice field, to river, to market place.

I am forever grateful for the opportunity to experience this and far more excited than I can say for the ability to be able to share such experiences with all of you who are kind enough to read it. I don't talk in circles around the difficulties. They're real and it would be a disservice for me not to impart to you some of the struggles, but it is more worth it than you know. The biggest lesson thus far, learned from my Thai family mostly in the past few days, is when all else fails...

LAUGH!

Thai Time

What can I say?

Being in Thailand is nothing short of incredible. After a long delay in San Francisco, we made it to Thailand, by way of Tokyo. Plane rides in the recent past have been filled with reading, movie watching, and sleeping.  All of these played a secondary role on this flight as I was surrounded by 50 people, most of whom I still didn't know the names of, with the same 27 month chunk of their lives set on a common goal. Friends were made. Nervous laughter was shared. Anticipation filled the back of our airplane cabin as we finally landed in Thailand.

Leis, introductions, and instructions followed and with heavy bags, droopy eyelids, and high hopes we loaded our luggage on a truck and boarded the bus to our hotel. Night turned to day far faster than I'd hoped. Life in Thailand officially began. Meeting the staff and teachers (some of the most likable people I've ever meet) and getting a glimpse, however vague, of what the next few years will hold has been a tremendous pleasure.

Cross Cultural training has covered everything from doing your personal business in Thai restrooms, laundry, mealtimes, using mosquito nets, to how to dress, how to greet, and how to behave with your host families and beyond. Language work has readied us for introductions, locations, numbers, money, and phones. My arms are sore from 6 different shots so far. My legs are feeling the sweet aches of getting to know a new place by foot and pedal.

Monday was intro after intro of all the important info and training. Tuesday was more of the same, plus purchasing cell phones and a very special evening complete with a Bai Si Suu Kwan and welcome dinner. Yesterday, we met the vice governor and continued our studies. Today, we got our bikes and rode through beautiful green fields of rice paddies of the . As the breeze blew past, making the blades of green below shiver with excitement, I felt a similar string in my heart vibrate. I'm full of song and deep gratitude.

I would be remiss not to mention the people I'm working with. Sometimes I can't help but recognize them as old friends already. There are those I feel I've known forever. Others who bear striking resemblances, either in action or look, to people in my life back home. As I grow to know my new family, there is a definite knowing that our connection will deepen, but I am so grateful for some of the times I have shared so far. Laughing at our own folly, sharing new foods, breathing in silent moments with a smile, congregating in the hallway for chats and better internet reception. Precious moments all, however mundane they may appear to the outside eye. The beginnings of a beautiful family of volunteers.

And it's not over yet...

Departing Thoughs

It is time. 

The lists have been checked again and again. No more worrying about what to pack. What to sign. What to leave behind. Whatever is to come, I can sit in the hushed womb of this bus in peaceful trust.

Staging. Eating. Communing. Sleeping. Check.

Waking. Washing. Loading. Check.

Passport. Check. Visa. Check.

The ride as trainee has just begun, and already there is a sort of awkward charm about us all. Still figuring out nearly everything as we come to it, but knowing that, for the next three months at least, all 51 of us are in this together.

As SFO nears and the longest flight of my life commences, I have so much to share, but seemingly lack the basic words to articulate.

I leave with this. In a world such as this, every journey is a precious one. Dare to dream, and then dare to live that dream boldly.

Until we meet again, peace. 

Taking Stock

Breathing in the now.

I know that it's not possible to be certain what I'll miss until I've flown the coop, but as I was sitting in my family's most frequented Mexican restaurant in town, listening to Besame Mucho over the clanging and scraping of hungrily working knives and forks, I had a twinge of missing that was unexplained. When working with special needs classes over the past few years, a common phrase we'd say to the kids, "No besos," whenever they were being overly affectionate towards myself, aides, or fellow students suddenly came to mind. This song may not play in Thailand to remind me of moments such as those, but I will most certainly miss my kiddos, and all their unique quirks.

 As days dwindle down to a precious few, friends seem to come out of the woodwork to share goodbyes and good times. My heart fills with such joy at this. I stay here. For now. Keeping my mind on the present, their presence, which is such a gift.

How many friends would make a girl purses and blankets? I have a friend that incredible.
How many friends would put down everything to be by my side? I have a friend that incredible.
How many friends would drive across state lines to say goodbye? I have a friend that incredible.

So many examples of such a richly woven tapestry of love that I am honored to take with me wherever I end up.

Thank you, friends.

Fit to be Thai-ed?

Happy new year to my blogging community!

Today, I look forward and backward, tying up loose ends, preparing for an uncertain future, and all while relishing each moment as fully as possible. Last night, as I celebrated with so many of my spiritual journeyers in the foothills LaVerne, California, the preciousness of my final days in the states began to set in. This morning, as I Skyped with my 88 year old grandfather, I saw the pride in his smile as he called me a "short-timer." My sweet 3 year old niece held my face two mornings ago and said, after a long and hard hug from her Aunt Jessie, "I'll Skype you on my 'puter." The days of putting things off for another day when I have more time to deal with the paperwork, throw those last few things out, drop belongings off at the Goodwill, have long since passed and the time for TTFNs is upon me.

It's easy to let the walls go up these days. To feel detached or distant when someone tells a story that seems petty all of a sudden. I notice that pet peeves that usually got my goat have shifted into endearing habits of my dear family members and friends. When I say goodbye, I truly mean it, and get a bit misty-eyed in the process. Life is shifting and I am embracing the shift with all the courage I can muster. The lyrics of my favorite Sunday-night Begin Within songs at ClaremontCSL underscore most moments throughout my days. When did I get so sentimental, and how am I already nostalgic for things that are still right in front of me?

I've read that some of my fellow volunteers are already packed. I am not.

I've read that some of my fellow volunteers have already bid their farewells. I have not.

I've read that some of my fellow volunteers already know the entire Thai alphabet. I do not.

I am not fit to be tied, that is true. I am filled with love, appreciation, and anticipation. But, am I fit to be Thai-ed? Perhaps not. For whatever reason, my organized Virgo nature is not deterred by my current state. I know that all is well, and that this moment is as precious as any moment that has passed, and any moment that is to come. I know there will be clothes in Thailand, if I bring the wrong thing. I know that there will be time to learn and transition and ask questions and feel discouraged and feel inspired and feel amazed and feel humbled at every point on this journey. I am here. It is now. That is perfect.

And so it is.