ciee khon kaen newsletter--2011--fa--no. 2

CIEE KHON KAENA BROAD PERSPECTIVE

November 2011! ! Volume 2

Photo Credit: Sara Stiehl.

S E Q U O I A C L U B

In a place that is wholly new, surrounded by a language and culture that is not our own, our world views have been challenged and strengthened by our environment and by each other. This newsletter represents our personal growth as a community and as individuals. As we move into our final projects, we have one last opportunity give meaning to our experiences. We have only the next few weeks left to immerse ourselves in our surroundings and intellectually and emotionally engage. We each struggle to define our time here in our own way, but we have all confronted big questions on a personal and

Photo Credit (top to

bottom): Sara

Stiehl.

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Erica MessnerUniversity of Rochester Mainline Editor

Daniel PastanAmherst CollegeMainline/Section Editor

Mariko PowersOccidental CollegeMainline/Section Editor

Jenny VainbergUniversity of MichiganMainline/Layout Editor

Sara StiehlPacific Lutheran University Photo Editor

Kati FithianWhittier CollegeLayout Editor

Ariel ChezUniversity of Rochester Section Editor

Aiden ForsiCornell University Section Editor

Lisa Goese Macalester College Section Editor

Lauren KerrColby College Section Editor

Mary LimGeorgetown University Section Editor

Alex WaltzCarleton College Section Editor

EDITING TEAM

[Section 1] Food and Culture

[Section 2] Context of Group Process

[Section 3] Growth and Reflection

[Section 4] The Big Picture

[Section 5] Village Life

philosophical level. In this newsletter you will find our conclusions at this stage in the process. Who can say what growth or revelations are yet to come?

Enjoy,Your Editors

Erica, Daniel, Miko, and Jenny


[1] Whiteness in Thailand

[2] Ron Weasley Goes to Thailand

[3] Making Friends in Thailand

[4] Experience in a Collectivist Society

[5] The College Student and the Exchange Rate:

How Thailand Turned me into a Rabid Consumer

[6] Geen Hamburger

FOOD AND CULTURE

Photo Credit (top to bottom): Sara Stiehl.

Lisa GoeseMacalester College 2013

WHITENESS IN THAILANDOur ears perked up at some saxophone notes

carrying over from the stage. My friend wistfully mentioned she played saxophone four years ago. We ducked over and lurked near the stage, whispering in English. The band playing at the bar noticed, obviously, and gestured to us. A performance arose unexpectedly, after my friend informed the band’s lead singer of her skills. They handed her the saxophone enthusiastically. She squeaked out some improvised notes. Next, the lead singer raised her eyebrows at the rest of us, as if to say, “What do you got?” We hopped onstage and were handed microphones. For our audience of Thai bar-goers and some other CIEE students, we sang three American songs: My Heart Will Go On, This Love by Maroon 5, and Route 66.

So goes what I call “farang benefits.” “Farang” means white foreigner in Thai. Thailand sure treats her farang well. As a farang, I experience a social status that transcends the boundaries typically in place which prevents random bar guests from taking a few minutes of the hired band’s performance time to regale the audience with their mediocre renditions of Titanic songs. This instance is not unique: restaurant owners, food vendors and shop owners are unusually nice; many strangers tell me I am beautiful (I assure you I am not any more good looking than the average bear). I cannot say I do not enjoy my farang benefits. Whereas my friendliness is perceived as unusual in the US, many Thai people want to talk to me.

At the same time, I hate the power of white privilege. Whiteness is hideously imbalanced and dominant in the world. I hate it to my core. White privilege, which feels so invisible (yet powerful) in my home country of America, manifests blatantly here in Thailand, as farang benefits, curious or confused stares, and smiles.

I see the power of whiteness elsewhere, in the old farang men toting around their young Thai girlfriends and wives. I see it in the advertisements that, despite being in a country full of mostly Thai people, feature white people. I see it in the American media, which is rampantly popular in Thailand. I see it in the cosmetic products, almost all of which contain “whitening” agents for your skin. I see it in the colored contacts, bleached or permed hair, and in the double eyelid surgeries to get “Western” eyelids.

I find it disturbing that in America I get to live my life without being forced by outside interactions to question my identity as a white person. So, I am thankful for the experience of living as an “outsider” in Thailand. Thailand sure treats its outsiders nicer than some other places. In fact, I know of a nation that treats its own non-white citizens like foreigners. Also known as the United States of America, this country, unfortunately, is not always kind to its foreigners.

Photo Credit (left to right): Sara Stiehl.

Amelia EvansSanta Clara University 2013

RON WEASLEY GOES TO THAILAND

After two and a half months here in Thailand, what was once normal—a part of the everyday scene in the United States—is now, at times, shocking. For example, never would I have expected to hear Jay-Z and Rihanna, “Love the Way You Lie,” in a rural Thai village, or see a child wearing a High School Musical t-shirt or a Harry Potter backpack. (Ron Weasley’s hair was brown, disappointingly.)

Besides the random pieces of western pop culture, there is an additionally unexpected awareness of international relations and news. In August, my host

Kanom (snacks)

1. Banana chips - wan (sweet) or chem (salty)

2. Fried bananas

3. Peanuts- wan or chem

4. Chocolate balls

5. Coconut ice cream

6. Crepes

family asked me about Hurricane Irene on the east coast of the United States. Several times, I have heard, “Obama!” given with a little fist pump.

Perhaps most surprisingly, however, was the rant one of my host fathers gave about the globalization of papayas. He drew out a map, showing papayas growing in Thailand, and then sent out across the Pacific to the United States, where papayas do not grow. Even though he was nearly shouting in Thai (aka close to gibberish for me), his passion about how crazy this phenomenon was came through. I, perhaps, could have ranted with as much passion about the absurdity of seeing Ron Weasley in Thailand. Globalization, you’re just simply out of this world.

I am obsessed with making new friends. I love the friends I already have, and definitely feel the whole “make new friends but keep the old, one is silver but the other gold,” but at the same time I am always looking to meet new people. I think it is because I know how many awesome people this world contains, and I would like to hang out with as many of them as I can!

Since arriving in Khon Kaen city, I have felt an itch to go out and meet people. I have indeed made new friends, but there have been some complications.

First of all, I cannot speak Thai so well. Common language opens up worlds of thought. Thus, my closest friends here are those with strong English skills―hard to come by in Khon Kaen.

Secondly, it has taken a good part of my twenty years as an American to finally begin to understand my place in American society. It’s difficult to navigate any social scene, particularly when you are a total newcomer and an outsider on so many levels. I will not understand the social scene of Thailand in my

MAKING FRIENDS IN THAILANDPhoto Credit (left to right): Sara Stiehl.

Lisa GoeseMacalester College 2013

I had always heard that Asian societies were typically collectivist, Western ones, individualistic. Growing up in the West my whole life, I had never confronted this theory, only took it for granted. Until I came to Thailand as a member of this program, that is.

I certainly grew up being taught the values of individuality. From a young age, I was told how being an individual was a good thing, a trait worth cultivating. As I went through the typical trials of youth; bullying, struggling to fit in, and peer pressure, my parents, among others, would always congratulate me on staying true to my gut, sticking up for myself. In other words, I was rewarded for not conforming to expectations that I did not believe in.

What is more, I have always been used to having a good deal of freedom. Again, I can attribute this, in part, to my upbringing. My parents never held me to a list of hard-set rules, preferring instead to use their trust to keep me in line, a method that worked marvelously. Break a rule, and there are consequences,

EXPERIENCE IN A COLLECTIVIST SOCIETY

time here (or perhaps ever), nor will most people be able to see me as anything other than a temporary farang visitor.

Despite the barriers, I have formed friendships that are increasingly special. My friends have welcomed me warmly, introduced me to all their friends, and given me a permanently open invitation to hang out with them. I play guitar on my friend’s porch three nights a weekend. We get into giggle fits making fun of “Happy Pants” diaper ads in 7-11. We make Tom Yam soup in my friend’s dorm room. We take funny pictures at the lake. We post up in the clothing shop across the street, talking and playing ukulele. We have interesting conversations. We eat food.

And some things transcend barriers. I connect to people singing karaoke, playing guitar, and showing off my few pathetic break dancing stunts to Thai B-boys. Goofy humor does not get lost in translation. I engage in strange face-making, hopping up and down like a bunny, drawing on napkins, and giggling with Thai friends. In the Land of Smiles, many smiles are exchanged. And hey, my Thai skills are on the up and up as well. I carry around a tiny notebook to record Thai words I pick up around my friends.

Though I still have trouble pronouncing the Thai word for friend, I now know the meaning of the word in Thailand. Someone once said, “wherever you are, it's your friends who make your world." I am so thankful for my friends, Thai and American, who are making my world on the other side of the world.

Photo Credit: Julie Yermack.

Lauren KerrColby College 2013

As a stereotypical college student I live in a perpetual state of broke-ness. When there is money in my bank account that I don’t need to spend on rent and utilities, I’ve almost always got a list of 10 other expenses that need to be covered. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the luxury of going out for every meal, buying snacks daily, and indulging every craving that I have. At home I spent a good amount of time carefully choreographing my meals so that I’ll have

THE COLLEGE STUDENT AND THE EXCHANGE RATE: HOW

THAILAND TURNED ME INTO A RABID CONSUMER

sure, but break a person’s trust, and you lose legitimacy in their eyes. I never wanted that.

In Thailand, this loss of freedom, of individuality, has been perhaps my greatest struggle. And while I have struggled, I am not sure I went through the typical phases, causes, of culture shock–the ones often cited by Americans, such as not being able to find Western food, or having to use squat toilets, sans papier. No, I can’t say any of this has bothered me, at least, not to depths worth getting worried over.

However, my sense of self has still been challenged these past two months by the more subtle cultural differences I have faced, both in Thailand and within our student group. I find myself wanting to fit in with a culture where I neither look the part nor speak the language; with Americans, wanting to retain my cultural need for individuality. On our program, in addition to learning about development, globalization, human rights, and grassroots struggles, much of our time with each other is spent learning, literally, how to work better as a group. We do this so we can better serve the communities we visit, but also so we can learn the valuable, albeit difficult task of one way in which group process can work.

At times, I wonder if being a part of this group is a bit of a microcosm for living in a collectivist society. After all, in an operational group, the good of society is generally valued before the needs of the individual. To some extent, it has to be, if anything is ever to get done. But in the end it is the needs of the collective individuals that drive society forward, and so it has been with this group.

Our group has come a long way in the past two months. We have shared joys, struggles, countless adventures and triumphs. This excites me, yet still, I find myself struggling within a framework that is completely foreign– not just academically, but culturally. Perhaps this is something I will adjust to, or perhaps my propensity for freedom, for individuality, is too strongly ingrained in my psyche.

Only the next two months will tell.

Photo Credit (left to right):

Sara Stiehl &

Julie Yermack.

Jenn FischerColorado State University 2013

enough money to eat and pay my rent. It’s nothing unique. It’s just the way college is.

At least that was the way it was until I came to Thailand. I have no access to a kitchen and therefore no way to save myself money by making my own food; I have no choice but to eat out for every single meal. If that were the only option I had back in the US I would drain my bank account within a month. But the first meal I bought in Bangkok put everything in perspective. That is, the perspective of a shameless consumer. One massive plate of Pad Thai and two Coke Zeroes cost me less than $2. I handed the waiter my monopoly money and feasted. It was delicious, it was filling, and it was cheap. That’s where the trouble started.

I can buy whatever I want. Without trying to be annoying, there is almost nothing I can’t afford here. I have enough money that I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want. So I did: I had coffee four times a day, I bought snacks between each meal (sometimes twice) and I ate like a king. Luckily for me some unrelated events came up that made me reexamine my finances. My tuition was raised by 15 percent (for the third year in a row) and my monthly rent payment is due to increase by the first of the year. So I kept a spending log and realized that despite the fact that I was spending less than $6 a day on food and drinks I was consuming more than I ever had in my life. On an average day I had two bags of cut-up fruit, two iced coffees, a meal at each of our cafeterias, a cappuccino, and snacks. Oh those snacks…

I never thought of myself as a reckless consumer. I’ve spent my life keeping my spending under control and limiting the things I acquire (food items and otherwise). But something about having a wallet full of pastel colored bank notes and the knowledge that I can feast for as little as 60 cents makes me forget all of the things I’ve trained myself to do. I was so excited to get cheap, delicious food that I forgot all about bringing reusable dishes, eating organic foods and trying my best to keep a diet that subsists of more than coffee and sweets.

It’s amazing what happens when you have the money to buy things. Suddenly I understand why celebrities and rich people spend such extravagant amounts of money on food. Now that I’ve become aware of the absurd amount of food I’ve been eating and the equivalent amount of money I would be spending were I in the United States I’ve started implementing changes: not drinking iced coffee, not buying snacks, and planning out meals just so that I can get all of the essentials in. Key to success: keeping everything in perspective. I may be in Thailand and my

money might go further, but calories are calories and those definitely don’t change with the exchange rate.

Photo Credit (top to bottom):

Sara Stiehl.

Kate RochatMacalester College 2013

GEEN HAMBURGERLying before me is a feast. Mountains of sticky rice

cast shadows upon pots of fragrant fish sauce spiced with peppers, plates of curried vegetables, fried garlic eggs, and various other unidentifiable dishes. Different smells, textures and recipes flood my senses. At my finger tips is any northeastern Thai dish that I could possibly imagine. So why is it that all I want is a hamburger?

Since coming to Thailand, the realization that eating is more than just a process through which one meets their daily caloric needs has painfully dawned on me. Every time I retch at the sight of fermented fish, scoff at chicken liver sticks and turn up my nose to green papaya salad, it is a reminder. These are not my foods. This is not my home. This is not my culture.

Every time that we eat food, we perform a cultural dance that has been passed down to us for generations. What we eat, how we grow it, how we flavor it and the fashion in which we eat it are all an intrinsic part of what makes us who we are; one is, after all, what one eats. An example of this is the very way that the Thai language addresses going out to eat―gin cow, or translated into English it literally means eat rice. Diet is not something that can be compartmentalized into breakfast lunch and dinner. It is formative of language, livelihood, social structures and health.

At first, the prospect of trying new foods on the streets of a foreign country sounded appealing. A month later it sounded acceptable. Now, two months in, it sounds appalling. As I wander the streets of Khon Kaen, a displaced U.S. citizen, prowling for anything I can find that slightly resembles food from back home, I am forced to accept that although I may not like it, my search for a hamburger is not just a desire for familiar tastes. It is the desire and longing to participate in the cultural dance of eating that marks me as an American.


[1] Occupy KKU: A Look at our Process

Tools and Their Every Day Application

[2] The Process of Goal Making in Every Day

Life

[3] Occupy Wall Street

[4] Dumbo the Elephant: An Educational

Experience

CONTEXT OF GROUP PROCESS

Photo Credit (from top left): Julie Yermack & Sara Stiehl.

As news of the methodology called consensus, which the Occupy Wall Street movement uses, sweeps across the USA, a number of us in Thailand have desired to shed light on our own methodology of group process and consensus to friends and family back home. As I have struggled throughout many Skype sessions attempting to explain what a full day of “student group time” means, I believe it is time to describe our process.

Yet our group process cannot be confined to a classroom. Being two months into the program and surrounded by the process at all times, it has successfully worked its way into our daily routines and mindsets. Here is a small taste of our life in a group setting. We call these our process tools.

SparklesDefinition and UsageA hand gesture used to show approval or disapproval towards someone’s statement, while not interrupting the speaker.

TypesUp sparkle: This is used when you agree with the speaker. Palms of your hands facing you in a high-5 position in front of yourself at chest height. Keep fingers pointed upwards and wiggle each finger at once. The rate and the height that you wiggle determine your excitement.

Down sparkle: This is used when you disagree with a speaker. Palms of your hands facing the ground, as if to hold your arms straight out in front of you, point your fingers downward and wiggle them. The rate and the height that you wiggle determine your disapproval. Our Everyday Use This small gesture has found its way into every interaction I can think of. Whether shopping for clothes or casually talking after a few beers, the sparkle has become second nature to many of us. It has also been used in settings such as formal exchanges and in a gathering with the US Ambassador to Thailand. In any case, there is no shame in sparkling as needed.

OCCUPY KKU: A LOOK AT OUR PROCESS TOOLS AND THEIR EVERY DAY APPLICATION

StackDefinition and UsageIn formal settings, this tool manages our conversation flow by keeping track of those who raise their hand with an interest in adding to the conversation. When in a discussion, certain hand motions will place the individual on stack in a specific category. Stack is traditionally kept on a sheet of paper that is divided into sections by type of response. The names on stack are then called in the order they were received.

• Raise one finger: I need to clarify your statement.

• Raise two fingers: I have a comment that directly relates to your statement.

• Raise hand: New topic of discussion, same theme.

• Raised fist: My comment is no longer relevant, please take me off stack.

Our Use Everyday A simplified version of stack has appeared in small group settings through putting a finger up when wanting to speak. When in casual settings, we do this more than we realize. I have noticed many people scanning the circle for fingers and hands waiting to talk before proceeding themselves. Although it has not made a full transition into our everyday interactions, I would not be surprised if it did.

ConsensusDefinition and UsageUsed to make group decisions, this tool allows us to pass motions and ideas to move forward. It has three components, thumbs up, thumbs sideways, and


Sara StiehlPacific Lutheran University 2013

thumbs down. Thumbs up means “I agree and this is good for the group”, sideways “I have reservations”, and down signifies a block and the movement is not passed unless re-addressed. Eight or more sideways thumbs entails revisiting the topic at hand with further discussion.Our Everyday UsageIt has come to my attention that a few of our group members have experienced consensus dreams, where they question if a certain pillow placement is appropriate for the group. Also, we use this tool for spontaneous decision making such as dinner and evening plans.

Where We’re At (WWA)Usage and DefinitionThis tool can be used at any time. It can be called within the middle of a facilitated space to halt conversation and simply ask the group ‘where they are at,’ emotionally and mentally. It creates a space where people can express their frustrations openly through constructive feedback. In WWAs individuals may confront what is going on in their life. We create specific spaces for WWAs after each unit.

Our Everyday UseWWAs have been embraced by our student group openly and are used as needed outside of structured spaces. This tool can be called by the individual or have one called for them. Protocol for a WWA, regardless of the number of participants, is to drop everything and focus on each other for support. They can and do happen at all times and places. They are extremely helpful for maintaining group connection and understanding. WWAs can occur anywhere including walking to dinner, riding on song tows, harvesting rice in a village, during or after a beer at the local bar and at all hours of the night. In any regard, WWAs are one of the most used process tools outside of structured settings.

+,-, DeltaUsage and DefinitionThis tool is used after facilitated sessions to evaluate how the planned time went. This tool is written down in a facilitation’s team notebook, +’s are things that went well, -’s things that could be worked on, and delta’s are things need to be changed in the future. It is at this time that the team re-visits their initial goals and evaluates if they have accomplished them.

Our Everyday UseAfter a day or evening of activities, we will casually assess how our plans went: what went wrong, what

needs to change and what went well. This tool can be used in any given setting and requires no official recording like the more formal +,-,delta sessions. For example, an at dinner +,-, delta: +: quick service and great food, -: my food has a hair in it, delta: try a different restaurant next time.

There you have it, an inside look into our process of discussing in a group. These tools allow us to get to the larger issues and move the conversation and learning process along. As the lines between facilitated student group time and outside non-facilitated spaces blur, these tools continue to merge into our everyday actions and will quite possibly travel back to the States with us upon return. So I ask family and friends to study up on these tools so that when I walk off of the plane sparkling I am welcomed with a sea of sparkles as well.


Alex WaltzCarleton College 2013

THE PROCESS OF GOAL MAKING IN EVERY DAY LIFE

Prior to venturing to Khon Kaen, I had made goals but routinely fell short of achieving them, likely due to my misunderstanding of how to phrase goals. In CIEE’s study abroad program, our use of formal goal-setting has been nothing short of pervasive. Since coming to Thailand, I have developed an intimate knowledge of the goal-making stratagem. We have used it in the classroom for almost everything, from planning translated exchanges with villagers to organizing activities for other students. Throughout this process, I have been asked to delineate what I wish to glean from a particular activity and identify the steps necessary to reach this benchmark (called “how-to’s”). Consequently, I no longer have such difficulties conceptualizing goals. Goals have even infiltrated my life outside the classroom, although I see this as a positive rather than a negative.

The hot Isaan climate has not deterred my daydreaming about the upcoming winter and ski season, easily my favorite time of the year. One ordinary day during some of the limited down time we get, I was astonished to find myself outlining goals for tricks I want to learn this season. I was making how-to’s to boot! Even though this was an eerie awakening to how CIEE’s program structures had invaded my personal life, I have since come to terms with the process as a worthwhile way to organize my thoughts and aspirations. Let me make myself clear, I’m not declaring my undying love for goals, but I am saying that I will continue to use goals as a tool, when appropriate. Truthfully, I was unsure of exactly what I was getting myself into by coming to Thailand on a CIEE program, but I am extremely thankful that I have learned about goals and how to apply them to the many facets of my life.

Consensus. Facilitation. Briefing. Workshop. Exchange. Goals. How-to'. Reflection. Ground rules. Sparkles. Thumbs up. Block. Where weʼatʼ. Plus, Minus, Deltas. If you talk to someone from our Fall 2011 Development and Globalization program, you will most likely hear or see one of the above terms in action. What we call “group process” is the collaboration of a group of unique individuals that embody these principles of solidarity. For the participants on this program, this process has made our group united through this experience. When our group began to see the benefits and beauty of group process, it came as a surprise to hear that even thousands of miles away that group process had begun to flourish in our own backyards.

Occupy Wall Street is a start of a movement that I had heard about while checking in back home. From what I could tell, most of our group originally had no clear idea of what was happening. It was only when we started reading articles and seeing small movie clips that we started paying attention.

One small clip was about the process of the Occupy Wall Street protesters. It was similar to our process, in that, “the deep hashing out of things, where everyone feels represented and heard, is the only way we can change a system.” They go on to show multiple clips of how their process can be used to represent all individuals. Our group rejoiced at the sight of sparkles and the feeling of solidarity with fellow activists at home.

This program outlined an alternative model for education that truly allows us as students, to take ownership over our education process. We gain ownership through a collective learning style that lets us decide how we will deepen our understandings of

OCCUPY WALL STREET



Here in Khon Kaen, our alternative education model is different from your standard direct enrollment study abroad. To accurately describe our educational experience I must resort to the animated version of one of Thailand’s most sought after animals―the elephant. Dumbo, the Disney movie, serves as the perfect metaphor for how we exchange with villagers or NGOs as well as the uniqueness of our particular program. Dumbo is an elephant born with incredibly large ears, he is made fun of and his ears hinder him from excelling in the circus. That is until he has help to recognize his potential-the possibility of flight.

CIEE Thailand involves teaching each other through group process and exchanging with the people of Thailand for a more accurate description of the issues. It is more than learning from books, it is learning from experience. This is different for myself and many others, and the process of recognizing fellow group members are the resources to learn is something that initially is “giant ears.” I don’t know how to walk with them, let alone perform circus acts. For our group, we are expected to exchange before

DUMBO THE ELEPHANT: AN EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCE

unit topics, such as agriculture, land, water, and mining. With great discussion and debate, we engage in the program themes of development, globalization, human rights, community, grassroots, and oppression. Our exchanges with Thai communities, sessions planned for the group, and reading- based activities are all orchestrated by fellow group members, regarding these themes. In my experience, group process takes some time to adjust to. However, it something that is so engrained in my habits, that it is now it is almost impossible for me to imagine life without group process. I love the process.

Furthermore, I love how the process is being used in America, especially to fight an oppressive system. It is surreal to think about our group process impacting the lives of so many American citizens through a new movement. Most of our group exploded with sparkles and excitement when we saw Occupy participants using the same system that we used. What was surprising was that people were figuring out how to use the system on a larger scale. It made sense to us that a lot of the criticism of the movement was that they had no demands. Group process takes time; getting consensus from everyone and making sure that everyone’s voice is heard will take thought. It is impressive that so many individuals can try to conduct group process on a large scale and use it to fight the economic injustice that affects our country and the world. In the words of the Occupy Wall Street members, “The process is meant so you can be empowered to go to your own communities where ever you are and hold a general assembly to talk about the issues that concern you. We’re all in this together. Occupy Everything!”

Kati FithianWhittier College 2013


Julie YermackUniversity of Richmond 2013

even understanding that we are learning from each other. Initially we were tripping over each other, unsure of how to move within the group and our exchanges were far from successful. Just as the mouse says to Dumbo, when he realizes his ears are potential for flight, “The very things that held you down are going to carry you up and up.”

Dumbo is given a magic feather so he can fly. It is the tool that ensures his flight. The feather is just a feather though; it is not magic. The magic for Dumbo, comes from believing and trusting in yourself. For CIEE Thailand, we are just starting to realize that we don’t need magic. Instead, we must trust each other that we can succeed. In the exchanges, it is not easy to let go of one’s own individual interests and questions and to think of the big picture, or the whole flow of the exchange. 24 individuals have their own individual strengths, but the group is much stronger as all 24 of us combined.

Dumbo is not your average elephant. He struggled with his ears and differences at first, but then realized that he, unlike the other elephants, could fly. CIEE Thailand is not a typical study abroad program. The exchanges are hard because flowing a conversation with twenty-four people is challenging. Trusting that a group will accomplish your individual goals and achieve success is a big leap of faith. However, I think for the first time I am realizing that despite challenges, by the end of this program we could be flying. start, I think we are finally realizing that by the end of this program, we could be flying.

Photo Credit: Julie Yermack.

[1] The Value in Being Vulnerable

[2] Optimism in Baw Kaew

[3] A Hypochondriac in Thailand

[4] Open Your Mind

[5] Ownership

[6] Ripples in a Pond

GROWTH & REFLECTION


Kaitlin RobertsDavidson College 2013

THE VALUE OF BEING VULNERABLE

Like many other parts of this program, personal reflection occurs in a facilitated space. At the end of each unit, students participate in a small group sadhi. The sadhi, a Thai word for “consciousness, mind, or thought,” is an opportunity for students to reflect on the unit, the group, or their personal lives in a safe environment. During a sadhi, we sit quietly until someone is moved to speak. This individual has the opportunity to share his or her thoughts without any response or discussion from the rest of the group.

The sadhi is one of the ways the program encourages students to be vulnerable. Returning from unit trips can be challenging, and it is important to have a facilitated space to reflect on personal hurdles and gain a better understanding of the group in order to move forward. On a daily basis, we are constantly learning, living, and socializing with each other, and the emotions that come out of group dynamics become even more intensified on unit trips. During trips, we move outside our comfort zones and deal with the emotional and cultural shock of learning about our communities and the issues they face.

Having this time set aside gives the group a time to be open and honest. Some of the biggest jokers in our group will share moving stories, some who seem to always have a smile on their face will burst with frustration, and some who tell anyone their life story sit back quietly and listen. There is something about setting aside the time to share that makes everyone able to be vulnerable and eager to listen to each other. The space becomes more than a time to share your feelings, but also an opportunity to challenge yourself and others. It is about coming to terms with who you are now and supporting your group members. Most of

all, it takes guts. I don’t view my peers as weak for crying or being open. Instead, I see them as genuine and confident. They are willing to be uncomfortable and honest, and their risk makes me more willing to be vulnerable myself.

Although the sadhis have helped our group value vulnerability, it is more difficult to imagine bringing this vulnerability outside of the program. Here, I know I will receive compassion and support, but when I leave Thailand, I wonder if I will have the confidence to be honest. There won’t be any facilitated spaces or sadhis, and it will be up to me to create these opportunities. As I move into the second half of the program, I want to challenge my peers and myself to consider how we will transition our values into a new context.


Eileen KlaiklungDavidson College 2013

OPTIMISM IN BAW KAEWEver since I could remember, I have always had a

critical outlook on the world and have always acted on the safe side. Before I make judgments and decisions in any situation, I analyze risk factors, detailed logistics, chances of likelihood and trends in past experiences. While I usually defend this mindset as something rational and realistic, I cannot deny that I can be a little pessimistic. It was not until my experience with Baw Kaew, a protest village in the Chaiyaphum, Thailand, that I have discovered a new found appreciation for optimism.

Baw Kaew is a protest village established in 2009 to fight against the Kon San Forest Project enforced by Thailand’s Forest Industry Organization. Previous to its creation, villagers of Baw Kaew were forcefully removed from the land that had been passed through generations to make way for a governmental project to expand forestry land by planting Eucalyptus trees on

the land of village people. Since the beginning of the protest, villagers have been victims of verbal and violent assaults from government officials who have used tactics to threaten villagers off the land. In addition, several leaders in the community have been charged by the Thai government with criminal offenses for their participation in protests and are at risk of going to prison.

Visiting Baw Kaew, I initially could not understand why villagers would put so much at risk just to get land titles. Looking at their situation, my rationality had me thinking there was little chance of victory for a small village against a powerful government. “The cards are not in their favor, so why put it all on the line for something that could end in prison or violence?,” I wondered. However, during an exchange in Baw Kaew, villagers gave me a new perspective. They revealed that the people of Baw Kaew have nothing left and they refuse to back down to government threats. “If we stop fighting then we might never get back what is ours,” one community member said. It was at this moment that I realized that not fighting for what you believe in would eliminate any chances of getting what you want. Therefore, even if the odds aren’t in your favor, being optimistic and fighting for your beliefs allow for positive prospects for the future.

For the villagers of Baw Kaew, they needed their land to live, so it was important for them to be optimistic about the future. Without optimism, there would be no hope for the future at all. Taking what I gained from the Baw Kaew villagers, I feel like I can apply this new perspective to my own life. Being realistic doesn’t have to mean being pessimistic. I can be realistic and have optimism for all of my aspirations. Baw Kaew taught me that acting on optimism means that there can still be success for any dream through any challenge.


Ariel ChezUniversity of Rochester 2013

During the Unit 2 homestay trip to forest communities, I found myself worn out from the thorough and content-heavy exchanges we tackled throughout the day. Every time I came back to my host mother’s house in Toong Lui Lai village, however, I discovered there was always something more to talk about. Whether we were half-distracted by Thai soaps playing in the background or mindlessly chewing on leftover kao niao (sticky rice) after an amazing dinner, my peers and I would end up talking about things like politics, cultural differences, group process and religion. Nights when I expected to simply settle down into a happy slumber on a full stomach instead became discussion-filled evenings that opened up whole new perspectives to me. Because the three other CIEE students staying in the house and I had such varying experiences and opinions, we sometimes struggled to understand each other’s views. I consider myself a conservative and religious individual, so sharing my personal opinion on subjects like Christianity and Buddhism amongst my mostly liberal, agnostic peers wasn’t always easy. I became much more aware of the words I said and the words I heard. One comment a peer made struck me in particular: “I don’t know if I’m being close-minded or if I just have strong values…” she mused.

We often hear the words “open-minded” or “close-minded” to describe a person when it comes to sensitive topics of fundamental differences. With that, there exists pressure to appear open-minded so one does not seem stubborn or intolerant. But I often struggled with whether that also pressured us to give up or silence our own values for the sake of demonstrating that we could be flexible or accepting of everyone else’s views. Because many of the students on this program have ardent values, like eating vegetarian food and supporting organic agriculture, there have been many times when different perspectives challenged us to question the foundational strength and validity of our beliefs.

So far, my interactions with the people in this program have led me to this conclusion: there is a

OPEN YOUR MIND

On the second day of our program, I broke one of the fundamental rules that my mentor in the infectious disease department at a Chicago hospital made me promise to keep: do not eat street food. I remember taking the first bite and for the next two days waiting for the end of the world, or at least the end of my world. Yet, a week later I still did not have the telltale signs of food poisoning and was feeling absolutely fine. Despite this shocking abdominal achievement, I was determined to still follow my training as a pre-med student and avoid street food.

However, on my first home stay the situation only deteriorated when while playing with my host family’s kitten I ended up receiving tiny nips and scratches all up my arm. Since the rural village cat obviously was not vaccinated, I called my mentor from my summer internship and ended up taking the most extreme of precautionary measures. One month and five rabies vaccinations later, I was certain I had avoided the disease.

Since then, my fear of bacteria, viruses, and parasites has somewhat subsided. When in villages and offered water from unknown sources, I drink it without any hesitation. Although I see the dirt on my host parents’ hands as they grab some food from our communal meal with their fingers, I join them. Even when at Khon Kaen University, my actions reflect my sense of curiosity and adventure overtaking that of my fear.

In two months I’ll go home, and I’m sure I’ll resort back to certain hypochondriac behaviors, but I know that I won’t regret letting my guard down in Thailand and taking in all the experiences. There are so many

A HYPOCHONDRIAC IN THAILAND

amazing opportunities that caution can take away. I know that I will make an effort to continue to try new things, despite knowing about all the infections and diseases I can catch.


Mary LimGeorgetown University 2013

fundamental difference between having a strong set of values and being “close-minded.” One should never have to compromise strong values in order to appear open-minded, because strong values incorporate acknowledgment, awareness and understanding of other points of view. Developing a set of strong values through gaining insight into multiple perspectives is only achieved by trial by fire. The process of challenging and being challenged by others refines and reinforces our values; it doesn’t close our mind to all else. I’ve come to appreciate the program more by discovering the foundation behind the values of my peers and I possess a newfound respect for them and how they interact with the development of my own. Here’s to kao niao and late-night conversation.

The “American” identity is built around the idea of the “rugged individual”, the “self-made man”, and the “lone wolf ”. This man is one who does not rely on anyone else for survival; he can journey out into the unexplored “Western Frontier” and build a life for himself with the strength of his own two hands. Other values embedded in American culture are those of “speaking up” and “taking control” of a situation. Again, these values prioritize the individual, rather than the group.

These ideas have become manifest in our educational system. Grades are dependent upon how much an individual study and strive to learn the material. You are never reliant on another student to learn the material. Group projects grades are based upon the product that is produced, not upon how well members work together as a group. Often if one person doesn’t feel the group is working up to standards, they will take control and do the project single-handedly.

Interestingly, CIEE’s alternative education program strives for students to have ownership over their learning process. What does ownership mean in this context? It means students have control over their educational experience. At first glance, it might appear that the program has an even stronger orientation towards individualism than any educational institution in the US. There are rarely any lectures given by teachers. Students teach each other the material they collectively believe is important to learn. They choose what knowledge they want to gain during exchanges. Instructors sit in the back of the classroom and observe student’s progress.

However, this new academic structure requires a new mindset, one that involves learning from the group and utilizing our peers as our teachers. We become dependent on the group to depend our

OWNERSHIP


Megan HarringtonNortheastern University 2014

Seasons in Thailand are a bit different. It’s the rainy season, the cold season, or the dry season. Right now we’re in between rainy and cold, but it feels an awful lot like autumn. And like the seasons, I’m feeling a change coming on.

It’s been small things, like how you notice a certain smell in the air, or have that little realization that you’re acting differently than you would elsewhere. I didn’t think I would feel it when I got here, but the wide reach of consumerism has hit here pretty hard. I fit right in, aside from having to keep my feet pointed away from people, and wai’ing when I meet someone for the first time. But it wasn’t Thailand that eventually made me realize that I was out of my element; it wasn’t a village home stay that made me realize I was changing somehow without understanding why.

It was the group of students I’m with. I’m sure of it. I’ve never had to critically think about my actions and words and how they affect the way our group gets things done—at least never so explicitly. I’ve always been taught that lesson of ‘thinking before I speak’. I remember my mom telling me that every day for almost two years throughout my early teens. However, this program is a whole new beast; it’s chewing me up.

I’m typically the confident one. I’m not afraid to say what’s on my mind because I generally think it’s relevant to what we’re talking about. I’ve never

RIPPLES IN A POND

understanding of the program’s content. Individualism is nearly eliminated. In our group of 24 students, I have 23 teachers. I am the teacher for 23 students. If our peers are not receptive to sharing with us, to working with us, then we cannot learn. If they only want to share a certain segment of the information they are interested in with us, this is all we learn. Likewise, in exchanges, we only learn what our peers ask. We as individuals are not asking questions for ourselves. We are asking questions for the group. We are not learning for ourselves. We are learning for the group.

From this context comes the contradictory concept of losing ownership. Our individual wants and desires must be lost in order to do what is best for the whole group. But how can this be done if the whole group is comprised of 24 individuals? What is then considered best for the group? Is “best” what is best for the majority? I believe the answers to these questions are conditional to the situation, and they are questions we as a group have to face every day. While we now recognize that losing ownership is our ultimate goal, a lot of progress still needs to be made before we achieve this.


Aiden ForsiCornell University 2013

thought that I was so far out of touch with what the people around me were thinking; I thought that I was a pretty good judge of when people were on the same page. However I’ve realized more and more through other people’s comments about me that I don’t make any sense. I am on my own page. I was once told jokingly that I live in a tangential universe.

I haven’t quite felt right about it. I don’t know what it is about me that makes what I say less relevant to the group. It’s been a struggle for sure. I’m trying to come to terms with it and figure out how to connect with my friends here in a group setting, but I guess I’m also thinking critically about how I act outside the group, as just a friend.

I don’t think this is a negative thing, although it may affect me negatively from time to time. Any opportunity to think critically about myself is an opportunity to improve. I’m looking forward to completing the program and knowing exactly how I am and how I work within tight-knit groups like this. It’s time to step up, really, and figure out what my role is before it gets too late. If the seasons can show us days like we’ve seen recently, there’s no reason I can’t fit in just as well.


[1] Bringing it Back

[2] Connecting to Home

THE BIG PICTURE


Aiden ForsiCornell University 2013

It would be a good idea for everyone to pack a formal outfit in their pack just in case we get stuck in a mudslide, experience a flash flood, or any other natural Thai disaster that could stymie our efforts to get back to Khon Kaen on time to meet with Madame Ambassador. Thanks!” After saying this I laughed a bit as I envisioned my Thai wardrobe and imagined trying to pass anything in it off as formal. After spending my sophomore year navigating the difficulties of transitioning between crew practice spandex and internship-on-the-Hill formal, I became accustomed to switching between distinct lifestyles and environments. Coming to Thailand was another experience in switching between lifestyles. I went from an alternative education high school, to a traditional university, and now back to alternative education. Switching from village ware to formal attire to meet the Ambassador reminded me of these changes. Transitioning between these two learning environments connected more than just my wardrobe, it helped me to connect my experiences in Thailand with my university experience in the United States.

CONNECTING TO HOME

So we’re here. We’re learning about human rights issues, we’re learning about community organizing, and we’re ostensibly learning about getting to solidarity with the communities we visit. A big question we’re all asking ourselves is, “What is this all for? What do we do with this back home?”

The communities we visit are places of conflict. They are often places of hardship, affected by processes that are beyond their immediate control; government policy here has a tendency to leave certain groups out of the process. This means a struggle is necessary to get the right things done. It doesn’t always turn out the right way for these groups, which is sometimes disheartening, but it’s much more empowering to see that they still fight. Seeing the Baw Kaew protest village on government land growing organic food for themselves to eat and sticking it to the government and companies that had forced them out was really inspiring.

But how does that translate into a story we can take home to share with our friends and family? How do we get past the point where we just say that we “went

to villages” and “it was totally awesome”? Even my sentence above doesn’t convey what our experience actually was like. What can we do? Some next steps may be taking more photos to relate our experience, or writing while the experience is still fresh. But nothing is quite going to capture what I see here.

Furthermore, a lot of people on this program say that we’re doing a lot more here than just visiting villages. I’ve faced issues trying to describe exactly what ‘group process’ or ‘where we’re at’ means in a way that makes sense to others. That aspect is definitely not going to come across. Personal relationships are hard to put into words. So do we take these things home and live them? Can we live in the states like we do here? Can I share with you what this group has done by doing what the group has done with you?

What I’m saying is that there’s something going on here that I think can’t be told through a newsletter. It’s something that needs to be experienced in order to be understood. I don’t think you’ll get it unless you’ve been through it. I want to tell you what I’m doing. We all do, I’m sure. And hopefully we’re getting close, but you, dear reader, will always be missing something.

BRINGING IT BACK


to work connecting with one of the key players who influences the course of the globalization and development of Thailand.

The parting reminder that I announced to the group proved to be quite prescient when, on our return trek through the jungle on the Thai-Cambodian border, we were stopped in our tracks because a truck was blocking the one lane path we were thrashing our way through. After half an hour of pushing, the truck was dislodged from the flood and we were able to make our way out of the forest. A speedy drive brought us back to Khon Kaen in just enough time to shower and make a necessary change out of the clothes that we had recently washed in a river and into our most dignified attire.

While our group has been living in villages, bathing in rivers, and developing a refined palate for rice differentiation, by my count, my university at home has hosted over twenty members of the Foreign Service to speak at various events across campus. With the announcement of an upcoming diplomatic event comes the inescapable buzz of overeager policy buffs formulating and critiquing questions to pose at the event, the constant stream of newly shared articles via Facebook, and the well thought out one hundred and forty character blasts on Twitter. Despite my distance from campus, every time the buzz begins I can envision the flurry of preparation across campus as students and professors alike prepare to connect their academic work with individuals who are shaping the field that we live in and study.

While my academic experience in the United States has focused largely on macro players in international relations, this study abroad program unabashedly tries to expose students to localized experiences of the issues surrounding globalism and development. This is a way to give a louder voice to an integral but often marginalized segment of the discussion of these issues; however, I have found that this narrow focus on the local has come at the detriment of learning about other players who interact with these issues. Many in our group found it strange to be munching on petit fours hours after having woken up on wooden mats in the forest, but to me it felt a bit like going home. I had the opportunity to ask staffers some of the questions that would not make sense in the context of a village exchange. How are international organizations working to assist in flood relief for the South? How are the United States’ political and military objectives in the reason affected by the legacy of the Vietnam War? These, and a notebook more, are a few of the questions that have helped to link my educational experiences at home with what I am experiencing in Thailand.

The opportunity to speak with the United States Ambassador to Thailand, Kristie Kenney, was a unique opportunity to leave the forest, put on a suit, and get

Lauren Boas-HayesGeorgetown University 2013


[1] Grounding Each Other Through Whiplash

[2] Using External Models for Internal Issues

[3] Bon Appetit: Communal Eating

[4] Language Barrier

[5] From Culture Shock to Community

VILLAGE LIFE


Morgan TarrantDavidson College 2013

In a given week, it seems that we could find ourselves anywhere from the dingy city streets of Khon Kaen to the clay paths in Baw Kaew, a forest village. Or even in a given day, we could wake up in the remote village of Kao Baht without electricity; yet by dusk, stand under the florescent lights of a highly modern hotel in downtown Khon Kaen. The swing from urban to rural life, and back, has given me a sense of whiplash.

Mostly, we have learned to adjust to traveling between starkly different settings, but fast turnarounds leave their mark. Our teacher Ajaan Dave might call these exercises in “cultural stretching.” While spending a few consecutive days in four square blocks on the south campus of Khon Kaen University, CIEE students identify “village-sickness” as a type of “home-sickness,” longing to be back in a sarong with early bedtimes, cooking dinner, or looking up to a night sky full of stars. Early rising on days spent in the villages leaves me with headaches from caffeine-depravation as evidence of my dependence on the conveniences of the city. I am hit by rancid urban smells that waft up from open gutters on the walk back to our apartments after a few reviving days in a village. Returning to our own rooms on the ascending floors of Kalasin dorm, the alienating elements of the city become evident to me.

In both our urban, monochromic schedules, and unhurried days in the village, our quest– to stay mindful and understand the consequences of our actions– remains timeless. Buddhism, in all its spiritual connections to the natural world, lends insight to our efforts of rebalancing and grounding each other.

Images of the Buddha are pervasive in Thailand. One such image is Bhumisparsa Mudra, a sitting posture where the left hand rests in the lap and the right hand reaches to touch the earth. The Latin term for Earth is humanus, which means “grounding.” In meditation, Buddha can often be seen reaching for the earth as a means of becoming more grounded, of calling to the earth as a testament. Being in touch with the earth is much the same as being in touch with your own nature. The meditative position, in turn, acknowledges the earth’s condition, and, what’s more, accepts that it has come to be this way. Reflection or meditation can lend to realization about interdependency with the earth, resembling the social, cultural and political interdependence of rural and urban areas.

By facilitating reflection, meditating together or encouraging each other to be conscious of interdependency, we will strive to help ground each

GROUNDING EACH OTHER THROUGH WHIPLASH

other in the coming weeks, as we transition from rural to urban settings, and back again.


Liza WoodCollege of Charleston 2013

USING EXTERNAL MODELS FOR INTERNAL ISSUES

Amongst the various mission statements, program descriptions, and goals set forth by this program, one I have struggled wrapping my head around is that the student group will see itself as a ‘moral entity.’ Coming into this program, the concept was too abstract for me to identify with, and for the past two months I’ve been struggling to understand it within our group’s process. Throughout our village home stays and exchanges, I have come to realize that the answer to this question of internal group process may be found externally, within the communities.

In the forest villages of Baw Kaew and Kao Baht, land is passionately valued as a communal space, and villagers use this passion to unify the group and adamantly protest for a land title.

“Some people say that the land is a commodity and no longer agree with community land sharing,” explains the headman of Kao Baht.

However, after finally returning to their land after 40 years, he and other villagers are looking to reconnect with the land, to strengthen their community as a collective, ready to “eliminate individualism,” as the villagers put it.

Likewise, the village of Baw Kaew is currently demanding a communal land title, which, villagers explain, would create a shared sense of ownership. While recognizing that they often disagree, the villagers explained that the shared value of the land was enough to unify them. “The land is my life,” stated the Baw Kaew headman. This is what allows them to put aside their differences, to unite.

Reflecting on these village stays, I couldn’t help but feel a strong connection between these communities and our student group’s process. We are 24 students

from various parts of the country, given four months to unify and see ourselves as a ‘moral entity’ – or at least that’s what our CIEE Program Guide tells us. But still, what does that mean?

Going to communities such as Kao Baht and Baw Kaew make me realize that these community stays are not just teaching us about the implications of land rights, but rather, that these communities can help us understand what it means to be a group. During exchanges, I asked communities what sorts of problems they may encounter if they gain a community land title – unequal distribution of work and benefits from the land, perhaps? No, these things are not a concern for the villagers. Not because they are naïve, but rather because they share a common goal, one they have invested themselves in. These villagers understand that maintaining ownership will not be easy, that there will be disagreements, but regaining their relationship to the land is more important than some selfish squabble over whose papaya tree is whose.

The loss of self for the sake of a unifying value is one issue our group must consider in our very own process. Being a moral entity is not about coming in with your own agenda, or being the first one to raise your hand in class; but rather, about the group and its pursuit of a common goal. And so, our student group has to begin looking outward for its process answers. Our internal struggles can, and will, be overcome in these next two months, so long as we recognize the greater external goals through which we can become more unified.


Nicole SmithUniversity of Rochester 2012

BON APPETIT: COMMUNAL STYLE

During our time in Thailand, we have been defining and exploring what it means to be a community. The idea of community may simply come down to supporting and interacting positively with other individuals who share a vested interest.

What better vested interest is there than food? The communal eating practices in the villages we

visited are representative of a camaraderie and support system that extend beyond the dinner table. For dinner, each villager (or family) brings a plate or two from their own home, and, combined with the additions from other villagers, a feast is created.

At first, I was overwhelmed by the communal eating style. At home, I’m used to eating my meals while en route to my next destination. After seeing the variety of food laid out, and observing the pace at which everyone ate, I realized that this dinner was not only about the meal, but the strong sense of community that put it together. Conversations during the meal provide opportunities for the family to bond, plan, connect, and learn from one another. It is a chance to share information and news of the day as well as give extra attention to the children. It’s a unifying experience for all, even those that don’t understand Thai. The strong sense of purpose given during communal eating empowers the individual and is something I hope to bring back to the States.

I knew coming to Thailand that I would have some issues adjusting. I sat through the study abroad preparation sessions while just like everyone else they told me ‘don't forget your passport’ and ‘don't hold strangers’ bags’. But no one could tell me what culture shock would really feel like. I choose to come here to challenge myself intellectually, philosophically and physically. Being here has made me realize many things about myself and how my world view and expectations for my experience may not line up with reality.

This became more apparent to me as I experienced my first extended home stay with a Thai family. It amazed me how others live in conditions so very different from those I am used to. Things that bothered me instinctively were everyday occurrences here. My concept of normal was challenged daily as I showered not with warm running water but rather by pouring a small pail of cold stagnant rainwater over

FROM CULTURE SHOCK TO COMMUNITY

Photo Credit: Amelia Evans.

Sara WeberGoucher College 2013

myself. I slept not in a bed but upon a mat on the hard wooden floor. It was occupied not just by me but any number of close relatives, including biting red ants and other things that creep, crawl, or go bump in the night. As I looked out through a space where a fourth wall should have resided, I saw a monstrous orange train blow smoke into the house. I resisted the urge to cover my ears each time the train whistle blew, though it did not seem to bother my host meh as she casually made breakfast. I talked to my family and realize that it is not that they choose to live here so much as they needed somewhere to settle.

While it took me some time to acclimate to this new lifestyle, my transition was eased by the incredibly

warm, welcoming actions of my host family. They immediately welcomed me as one of their own and proudly introduced me as ‘daughter’ or ‘sister’ as I was paraded around the neighborhood. We passed friends cheerily calling out to one another, laughing as they cool themselves with taro chip boxes that have been flattened and reincarnated as fans. My little brother Keem selflessly gives me his mat on the floor to sleep on while he rolls out a thinner one next to mine for himself. His mother and grandmother went out of their way to make me special foods and I felt suddenly that my humble hostess gift of fresh bananas was terribly inadequate. My first night in the village, we sat together on the floor sharing a delicious meal eaten with our hands, and my new mother told me she loved me. Odd, but touching nonetheless. My younger siblings begged me not to leave for class each morning. On my last morning in the village I walked Keem to school, avoiding cracks in the pavement big enough to swallow a motorcycle. When the time came, we hugged for a long time and he gave me a Buddhist prayer bracelet for good luck and I gave him one of mine to remember me by. It was a sad departure which affected me much more than I thought it would after only a few days together. It amazed me how his efforts to teach me all the Thai names for fruit and me sharing my western music on my small secondhand iPod had brought us together so quickly.

This village faced many challenges, including poverty and unemployment, challenges far greater than anything I had experienced, yet somehow no one seemed worried. Their unyielding sense of togetherness was obvious. Even to an outsider like me, they seemed as though they can take on anything the world throws their way. They weren't merely neighbors; they were friends, a true support system. They cared about one another like family and have worked in solidarity for their common good for more than forty years. In this village I began to understand that what matters is not where, but rather how you live and who shares that journey with you. Maybe it sounds cliché but it seems to me that this is what it means to be a community. This uncommon level of support and understanding is more important than any other experience I will have here. We as students are becoming a community here, getting closer every day. I can only hope that by the end of these four months we will be half as close and supportive as the villagers in Te Paerok One, Khon Kaen, Thailand.


Photo Credit: Jenny Vainberg.

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