Sweet Pork & Cold Showers.

With week two of Uttaradit life in the books, I couldn’t be more content. My classes have fallen into a steady routine, and surprisingly, I’m beginning to recognize some faces amongst the masses. I’ve been fortunate enough to be surrounded by kind and enthusiastic co-workers, both foreign and native to Thailand. Steve, one of my co-teachers and 5 year resident of Thailand, is a robust and brash Brit from northern England. Ray, the petite South African biology teacher, whose accent is a mixture of British, African and “fabulous, ” entertains the office all day with his antics, complaints about the heat and his quest for chick flicks that make him cry. Nancy, one of the Thai department  directors, brings me breakfast nearly every day. I’m spoiled to the fruit, potatoes and sweet pork she so graciously brings to me.

Going off on a quick tangent, sweet pork and sticky rice has become one of my favorite Thai tastes. And this is truly a feat, being that I usually avoid any pig products. Sweet, tangy strips of pulled pork formed beside a ball of chewy, hot rice is my new weakness. After tasting it for the first time, I asked Nancy for directions to the particular food stand. Granted, searching for specific stands in Thailand is akin to looking for a needle in a haystack while blindfolded, but sweet pork is and will always be worth the trek.

After school one day this week, Kelsey and I decided to decipher the map Nancy had drawn out and attempt to find the pork stand. Since our destination was too far to travel on foot, we decided to take my bike through the traffic- again, a risk worth taking.

Digressing a little - Last weekend, I jokingly suggested we both hop aboard my bike and travel the back roads near our apartment. The narrow, grated “seat” over the back wheel, probably more commonly used as a place to carry books, now serves as a place to carry a passenger. One evening, waiting until the sun set so as not to be embarrassed, we attempted the balancing act. First I then Kelsey tried peddling while the other sat on the back “seat,” holding on for dear life and frantically trying to find a place for feet to rest without getting tangled in the spinning rungs. I can’t remember a time I laughed so hard- that silent laugh where you’re trying desperately to catch your breath. After several wobbly starts, we became rather adept with this new skill of balancing. Although it looks hilarious, we seem to fit in with this “see how many people we can cram onto one mode of transportation” Asian culture.

Back to Operation Pork. We decided to cover more ground and bike instead of walk. On the way though, we were distracted by an outdoor gym on a street corner where chiseled Thais were tangled in a mess of Thai boxing. Beckoning us to come watch, the boys began to show off, throwing one another across the ring. We attempted to communicate and ask if they would teach us, but their English began and ended with a hello and a friendly wave. We continued watching. In the meantime though, storm clouds brewed, and rain began to fall. Rain spontaneously erupts here, and the droplets are unusually large, and they fall in heavy sheets. Just one drop can hit you in the face, and it splashes with a sting. Still determined, we donned our rain gear and hopped on the bike. Three intersections, several curves and two turns later, we arrive safe and luckily unscathed. Kelsey traversed the Thai traffic with stellar ease, and I, having found a place for my feet was able to make trip a more aerodynamic one.  Long story summarized, we did not find the pork, but we found a new spot in town and food just as yummy.

This week at Daruni school, we had a special ceremony called "Wan Kru" dedicated to teacher appreciation. With their daily admiration and respect already at such a humbling level, I was shocked to be part of such a day as this one. For days, the students created flower arrangements, weaving leaves and buds in intricate patterns. Candles and sprigs of flower or carved fruit adorned each pot, and the children carried them around proudly. Since there are so many enrolled at Daruni, we had three separate ceremonies, each with over 1,000 kids participating. Sitting on the stage with other teachers, I watched as row after row after row of Thai students, knelt and bowed and sang to us. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced. Then, with flowers in hand, they shuffled on their knees toward the row of teachers, flattened themselves into a bow and gave their prized arrangements away. Even though the event was designed mainly for Thai teachers, I was still bombarded by my M-3 students and showered with flowers. Jasmine ropes were woven with small pink roses, folded leaves shaped like envelopes held orange flowers, candles and incense sticks, and golden pots were bursting with color. My face literally hurts from the smiles I returned and the many pictures I took with my kids, some of whom I didn't even know. I was, however, proud that I recalled a cohort of M-3s named Kik, Yok and Nice.

Earlier this week, as I sat eating boiled eggs from a little bag, barbecued meat on a stick (chicken, but I'm not sure which part), some nondescript casserole wrapped in leaf, a cake with black beans and rice drenched in coconut milk, I had a thought. And at risk of sounding too cheeky, I will say, I don’t know many people willing or brave enough to eat such things. And it's not just eating quirky things, riding a bike in the rain through crazy Thai traffic or exploring new places that enthrall me, but it's undergoing the challenge of this new life altogether. And I’m thankful to be spending it with a fellow traveler as much if not more zealous to embrace this new adventure as I am.

It seems as though what was customary back home, mere routine, has become necessity. For example, I won’t have a hot shower for a year, but I enjoy the cold shower because it cools me off after a insanely hot day and because I really need it. To spare yucky details, I will just say that even if I took 2 showers daily, I would still feel sort of dirty. The heat, humidity, dust, bugs, walking, climbing stairs, riding bikes, trudging through rain and other daily tasks require impeccable hygienic attention. Melting immediately, my makeup, deodorant, body spray, hair products and any other attempt at freshening up are scoffed at by the Thai climate. When I eat, the meals are portion controlled (in a bag or on a stick), and I eat because I am, most often times, truly hungry. When I ride my bike, it isn't just for exercise, pleasure or from sheer boredom, it is because peddling is my only way to get to school. When I speak or smile to the Thai people or my children, it's not polite habit, it is an appreciated learning experience.

Basically, at the end of each day, I sleep well knowing that each task, each step, each bite of food, each word, each smile was necessary. Learning that daily life shouldn't be a rut or a routine has been the most valuable aspect of my journey thus far, and I feel more fulfilled than I ever have in my life.